Page 112 of Meant to Be

CHAPTER 25

Joe

My original plan had been to take Cate to Paris and reenact our first date, popping the question at the table overlooking the courtyard at Le Bristol. But given our hectic work schedules, I knew it might be weeks before we could both pull off a trip to France, and there was no way I could wait that long. Besides, I worried that a trip to Paris might tip her off about what was coming, and the romantic in me wanted to surprise her.

My next idea was to take a sunset cruise aboard my boat—which I hadn’t yet dry-docked for the season—and propose to Cate in the cove where we’d made love. It would be a little chilly this time of year, especially out on the water, but we could bundle up. I ran the idea by Peter and Genevieve. Not only did the plan meet with their approval, but they offered to help me execute it. Basically, we’d all head out east for the weekend, and while Cate and I took the boat out, they’d be back home, setting up a romantic dinner for two with lots of candles and roses. Genevieve balked a bit on the roses, calling them clichéd and cheesy. Peter argued that Iwascheesy—and that Cate should know what she was in for.

“Fine,” Genevieve relented. “But let’s do pink, not red.”

“No way,” I said. “Cate hates pink.”

“No. She doesn’twearpink. But she likes it on other people.”

“How do you know?”

“We’ve discussed it.”

“When? How did that come up?”

“You don’t believe me?”

“Yeah, I believe you. I just wanna know the context.”

She laughed and asked why.

“Because I want to know everything about her,” I said.

Genevieve looked at Peter and said, “Gosh. He’sobsessed. Are you this obsessed with me?”

There was only one answer to this, and Peter gave it to her, laughing. “Of course I am.”

Genevieve turned back to me and said, “The context was the pink bridesmaid dress she had to wear for her friend’s wedding—a dress she detested.”

“See?” I said. “I told you—”

Genevieve cut me off. “Nope. She definitely said she likes pink on some people—just not on her. She specifically mentioned Marilyn Monroe’s dress inGentlemen Prefer Blondes.”

“Yeah. She loves those old movies,” I said, nodding.

“God. You reallyareobsessed,” she said, looking at me this time and shaking her head.

I grinned and said yes, guilty as charged.

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Unfortunately, our elaborateplan was foiled by two things: Peter got called in to work, and the weather forecast was filled with rain. Genevieve suggested we wait until the next weekend, but I told them I would wing it alone. I didn’t want to wait. Cate and I would drive up Saturday morning, spend a relaxing day together, and unwind from all the pressure we’d both beenunder at work. Then, just after nightfall, I’d build a fire, open a bottle of champagne, and pop the question. Afterward, and assuming she said yes, we would celebrate at a nice restaurant, or if Cate wasn’t in the mood to go out, we could stay in and cook together. It would all work out—and Cate actually wasn’t the kind of girl who needed rose petals scattered at her feet.

On Saturday morning, Cate, Thursday, and I were on the road by nine. All I could think about was the ring, especially as we talked about the future. I told her about my meeting that week with the Democratic state party chairwoman and how she was trying to convince me to run for Congress, and Cate told me that she was thinking of leaving her job as well. It was all a bit overwhelming and nerve-racking, but I told myself that it would work out. We would figure things out together; I just needed her to say yes.

The closer we got to the Hamptons, the more excited and jittery I became. I didn’t know how I would get through the whole day but knew I needed some exercise, and suggested we take Thursday for a walk on the beach before it started to rain.

“Sure,” Cate said.

As we unpacked and changed, I eyed my sneaker where the ring was hidden. I told myself I needed to wait until later, but the second Cate went into the bathroom, I reached into the shoe, opened the black velvet box, and stuffed the ring in the pocket of my sweats. Just in case the moment was right, I wanted to be ready.

As it turned out, that moment came about a mile down the beach, with Thursday at our side, close to the spot where we met. Fighting the worst nerves of my life, I worked up the courage to drop to one knee, reach into my pocket, and pull out the ring. My mind was spinning as I tried to remember all the parts of the speech I’d been practicing in my head for days. I have no idea if Isounded eloquent or like a blathering idiot. All I recall with any clarity is the way she looked down at me and nodded, her eyes filling with tears.

I felt almost drunk as we walked back to the house in the pouring rain, pumped full of the best kind of adrenaline. Meanwhile, the wind picked up and the waves turned dark gray and choppy. When we were almost back to our yard, there was an electric flash in the sky followed immediately by a deafening clap of thunder. Cate screamed while Thursday began barking his head off, and the three of us took off in a mad sprint back to the house. By the time we arrived at the back porch, we were drenched, and a weird combination of cold and sweaty. Stripping our soaked clothing off, we laughed, then ran naked upstairs to the bathroom, heading straight into the shower.

From there, the images are seared into my brain. Kissing Cate under the hot water. Pressing her against the black-and-white tile wall. Slowly entering her, then thrusting harder until she called out my name. And most of all, the way she looked at me afterward, her blue eyes sparkling, just like the ring on her finger.

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