Page 83 of His Girl Hollywood

She sighed with happiness and settled into the bench seat beside him. They traveled a mile or two in companionable silence before she murmured, “A five-minute standing ovation.” There was a note of disbelief in her voice.

“You made a brilliant film, darling.”

“No,” she corrected him. “We did.” He reached for her hand and brought her knuckles to his mouth. He couldn’t get her out of this car soon enough. “They loved you, Don. You just wait. Tomorrow’s papers will be full of reports that you’re the hottest star in town.”

He grinned. “I hope they also have plenty to say about the town’s most talented director.”

She giggled, girlish in her excitement, and hugged her knees to her chest. The satin folds of her dress swam across her legs like cream over cake. He couldn’t wait to peel the thin straps of the dress from her shoulders and watch the gown pool at her feet, making her his very own Venus, rising from the ocean of the sea-green fabric. She leaned her head against her knees and looked at him intently.

“What is it?” he asked.

“I think you should move in with me.” He didn’t know what he was expecting her to say, but it wasn’t that. The engagement ring in his pocket that he’d been carrying around for weeks took on a sudden new weight. “Unless it’s too soon. I thought—”

He reached out and wrapped his hand around the nape of her neck, trying to reassure her. “Of course I want to move in with you. I’m practically there every night anyway.”

She smiled, clearly pleased she hadn’t crossed some unspoken line.

“Though I think we should probably make it temporary.” Her face fell. “Until we can find a bigger place.” At that moment he didn’t know what was brighter—the streetlamps that turned the gravel to burnished gold or her smile at the suggestion they make a new home together.

She swatted at him, pummeling his arm. “You. Are. Terrible.”

He laughed, grabbing for her hand that was needling his bicep and tangling his fingers with hers as he grazed her knuckles with another kiss. “Well, we don’t have to, of course. But I thought you might like somewhere with a guesthouse. So that your mother can spend the night when she visits.” He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye and saw she was beaming. The radiant gleam of her happiness could give the moon a run for its money.

“I’d like that,” she murmured. He settled their intertwined hands on the bench seat between them, not wanting to let go of her. She absentmindedly stroked at his hand with her thumb, and before he knew it, they were at her home. No, their home.

He pulled into the driveway and turned off the engine. She leaned to open the door. “Wait.” He stopped her. “I want to sit here. For a moment. And imprint this memory in my heart.”

She sat back on the seat, smiling at him while he replayedthe events of the night in his head. She’d propelled him across the red carpet, even kissing him when that photographer called for them to. The memory of it, only a few hours old, filled him with warmth. She was right. Tonight wastheirsuccess, together, and she’d proudly claimed it as such. She’d pledged that day in Harry’s office four months ago that she was done hiding, and she’d been as good as her word. Better even. There’d been a few wisecracks on set from the crew, but she’d ignored them. The whispers and smirks had stopped within a week, after Harry had sent a memo telling the crew they could respect their director or seek employment at another studio. It was time for the next test—now that the press and soon the public would know. Don wanted to prove to her that no matter what, he would be there by her side.

He didn’t even open his door, but jumped from the driver’s seat over it onto the driveway. Who cared if he ripped his tux? It had served its purpose for the evening. “Show-off,” she said, laughing.

He crossed in front of the car and bent to one knee outside her door. He fished for the box in his breast pocket and pulled it out, popping open the lid and admiring the small baguette-cut diamond flanked by two emeralds perched atop the dainty gold band. The emeralds matched her eyes. It was why he’d chosen this ring. “What are you—” She laughed as she pushed open her door, but her words evaporated as she caught sight of him.

He watched her take him in, his position on the ground, the ring in its little black velvet box as it rested in his palm. “Yes.”

He laughed. “I didn’t even ask you yet.”

“You don’t have to. A thousand times yes. It’s been yes since I was sixteen years old, and it’s yes now. I love you, Don. I always have. Even when I didn’t like you, I loved you.” She took his face between her hands and kissed him, kneeling between his legs withno regard for her evening gown. When his lips met hers, she deepened the kiss, a little moan escaping from her. She grabbed the lapels of his tuxedo and pulled him toward her, but he broke away.

“Wait, the ring,” he huffed, kissing her hair and smoothing it from her brow.

She held out her left hand, trembling, and he slid the ring onto it. She reached out and with a few flicks of her fingers, she undid the bow tie at his neck, before using the ends of it to pull his mouth to hers. He laughed against her lips. “We’re only about ten feet from the front door,” he murmured against her mouth.

“I know. But I couldn’t wait.” He nuzzled her cheek and pulled her gently to her feet, scooping her into his arms to carry her to the bungalow.

She shrieked with laughter and buried her face in his neck. “Whatever you do, don’t drop me!”

He let his hands give a little, pretending to let her go, and she yelped. She clung to him even more tightly. He nipped at her ear with his teeth and stiffened as he felt her quiver at the touch. “That ring is a promise that I will never let you go. I was a fool to ever leave you behind.” She smiled against his cheek, and his heart felt near to bursting with happiness.

He set her gently on the front porch, letting her retrieve the house key from her clutch and open the door. She stepped inside and pulled him in after her, tugging once again at the loose ends of his tie. She laid a bruising kiss on him before breaking away and pressing her forehead to his chest.

“Before we go any further, I have something for you.”

He groaned. “I assure you, you are enough.”

She chuckled while still pressed against him, and he could feel the rumble of her laugh in his chest. He kissed the top of her head. “It’s on the table,” she whispered. He turned his head to thebreakfast nook that was visible from the front door. There was a cardboard box sitting there, stained and crunched. It looked old.

He crossed the room, pressing his fingers to the lucky penny in its frame, now hanging on the wall next to the front door. The detectives had returned it after Frankie’s trial. He picked up the cardboard box, meeting her eyes and silently asking, “This?” She nodded. He gingerly lifted the lid to find a collection of newspaper clippings. He picked up the top one, spying his name in the headline. He continued to page through. Every single clipping was about him. Even the smaller pieces were about him. A few inches in a society column that someone had taken time to cut out. “I don’t understand.”