THE PROPOSAL
Valerie's Pov
“Why so many briefcases, Mr Hills?” Father asks, the charm still cranked up to the max.
Maybe I'm wrong? Technically we didn't spend a lot of time talking. I could be projecting on this man. It's possible; because I can't see his face, so I can't confirm or deny if it's him, I just assigned his voice to this random man.
I mean come on, I chastise myself, what are the odds that my stranger is here, about to propose to my sister?
A metallic clicking catches my attention, bringing my mind back to the events unfolding in the next room. It's followed by the sound of heavy things being set down.
“Please,” Mr Hills says, his voice steady and confident. “These are just a small token of my sincerity.”
Mother gasps dramatically.“Oh my! This is. . . !”
“Yes, wow” Father clears his throat, then clears it again. “Let me just, um, ring the help to come and put away all this cash. Thank you so much, Mr Hills.”
“And these keys,” Mr Hills continues, “are for a fleet of luxury cars. One for each member of your family.”
I press my ear harder against the door, father’s overly eager voice booming. “You’re too kind, Mr Hills.”
My brows furrow as a new thought creeps into my mind. Why would someone this powerful and wealthy be so desperate to propose to Daphne, just out of the blue?
I know Daphne's very desirable, because she tells me all about the men that want to be with her. If she had a boyfriend Daphne would have definitely said so, to rub it in my face, especially if he's the esteemed Andrew Hills. She'd never be able to shut up about it.
Mr Hills’s smooth, confident tone followed. “It’s a little thing, Mr. Patterson. Now if you please, I’d like to meet Miss Patterson.”
My heart pounds as my father chuckles. “Of course, here she is our one and only daughter, Daphne. Yes, she’s the bride you’re looking for.”
A little overkill, I think, even as my heart splinters even more. I shouldn't be surprised by his blatant dismissal of my existence, I shouldn't. And I'm not. I'm just hurt, which is stupid because I should know better. The hope of us being a happy family should have died but now.
“Miss Patterson,” Andrew Hills says, his voice dropping slightly, turning almost reverent as he addresses Daphne. I could picture him stepping closer, towering over her with that commanding presence he undoubtedly carried. “I wanted to. . . apologize for what happened last night.”
My blood runs cold. Last night?
What happened last night? I don't think Daphne went anywhere last night.
I scramble up, rushing to the window to hear better.
“I was drugged and completely out of my mind,” he continues, his voice an apologetic whisper I strain to hear. He must be leaning close to her, talking to only her. “I should have done things better. But I do not regret being with you, I only regret not being completely sober, not treating you like the princess you are. If I caused any hurt, I want you to please forgive me.”
I stumble back from the window, clutching my chest. My breath becomes shallow pants as his words echoed in my head
I struggle to stay upright, my head reeling as I try to make sense of it all.
He thinks Daphne is the woman he was with last night.
That's why he's here. He's here for me. And that's why I'm locked in here, because they want Daphne to have him instead.
“And because of that,” Andrew Hills adds, his tone steadying with purpose, “I want to offer you a gift.”
The rustling of a bag has me sticking my head outside the window but I still can't see into the room.
“Valerie!” the bodyguard whispers harshly and I turn to look at him. I’d almost forgotten he was here. He's looking at me threateningly, and slides something out of his pocket. It's a knife, I register with fear. “Don't make a sound.”
“Mom look,” Daphne gasps, laughter in her voice, the sound grating on my nerves.
“It's so beautiful, it looks like a real cloud!” Mother replies
“It is a real cloud, enchanted, to stay like this forever,” Mr Hills replies, sounding pleased that she likes it. “Go on, there's a latch. Open it.”
The gasp that ripples through the room piques my curiosity so bad, I wanted to take off my eyes and throw them in the room so I could see.
Then, his voice turns into a soft conspiratorial whisper as if he's talking to her about something only two of them will understand. “It represents how I see you, an angel. And here I am, the man you saved in more ways than one, gazing up at you in adoration.”
I pause, tears gathering in my eyes. So I haven't been the only one thinking about last night, knowing, just knowing, that it means something. “Go on, touch the angel.”
Another gasp goes through the room and I shove myself out of the window some more, desperation clawing at me. I would give anything to see what's going on, to see what he got for me.
“Anytime you touch her, she'll come to life. She'll soar, while my figurine watches on in awe. Because I really believe you are an angel sent to me, Miss Patterson and I want you to never forget that.”
My mouth falls open and I stare out into the grounds. That is the sweetest thing anyone has ever said about me, and yet, just my luck, it wasn't said to me.
“Miss Patterson.” he continues, “I would love to have you as my wife, to cherish, to be by my side, and very soon, I know, to love. If you'll have me, that is.”
My ears burn, my vision swimming with the weight of his words and I pull back into the room so I don't fall out as I reel from the shock.
This can't be happening, it has to be a nightmare. I'll wake up any minute now, I have to. It can't actually be that I'm listening to my own marriage proposal through the wall, while it all happens to my sister.
Then, feeling like I'm watching a car crash i
n slow motion from the driver seat, I hear Mr Hills ask, “Will you marry me?”