Page 32 of The Spare

She quirks a brow, her expression otherwise deadpan.

“I know, I know. I don’t deserve your help. But I’ll do anything, Lexi. There has to be something you need. Perhaps getting married will help your position at Hanover Urology,” I stammer.

Where the hell are you going with this, moron?

She doesn’t need a thing from you. She’s brilliant and financially independent, and when she’s ready, she could have any man she wanted. One who is a hell of a lot better suited to her than you. The thought makes my chest burn in a way I hadn’t expected.

“I’ve overheard your grandpa talking to Old Man Morris. You need those chauvinists at the practice to see you as a serious CEO who isn’t afraid of commitments. You’re not the nepotism hire they all think you are.” Her cheeks redden, and I worry I’m offending her. “Marriage to the owner of the Sutter Creek estate might give you the commitment you need to shut them up.” I decide not to remind her the marriage is to me. “And if it’s money you want, I’ll sign over whatever compensation you deem fair. Name your price.”

“This isn’t about the money, Sam,” she exhales, and for a second, I see the girl from all those years ago. “It’s the principle. You’re asking me to lie.”

“I’m asking you to help me save the only thing I have left of my grandfather,” I counter.

The silence stretches between us, filled only by the distant clatter of the kitchen. This is it. The moment I either save my grandfather’s dream or watch it burn. I reach over and grab the bouquet. It’s monstrous. Two dozen long-stemmed red roses, the deep, blood-red color of a vintage Cabernet. I see her eyes widen as I stand up, the legs of my chair scraping against the floor.

I don’t care who’s watching. Dismissing the whispers from the other tables, I drop to one knee in the middle of Luigi’s, with the roses held out like a shield. And with my other hand, I pull a blue velvet box from my pocket and flick it open. The princess-cut diamond catches the low light of the restaurant, throwing shards of white fire across her gorgeously shocked face.

“Alexis Patterson,” I begin, and for the first time in my life, I can’t cover my nervousness with jokes. I need to go all in, letting her see the real me, shaking limbs and all. Because I’m terrified. Scared she’ll say no. And possibly even more that she might say yes.

“Be my wife.”

She crosses her arms over her chest. “You have got to be kidding!”

“Please, Lex? If not for me, do it for the vineyard. For Pop. Hell, use whatever reason you need. Just don’t let me do this with someone else.”

She looks at the ring, then at the roses, and finally, her blue eyes connect with mine. I can see her processing the madness of it. I can only hope she can momentarily forget the years I’ve tormented her, the bullying with cruel words, Pop Rocks, and the removal of her hair ties… basically the sheer audacity of the man kneeling before her.

Holding my breath, I wait on bended knee, begging her to see past my mistakes. To instead see the boy she once knew, waiting for this stunning doctor to decide if my heart is worth saving.

Chapter Sixteen

Lexi

Nineteen Years Earlier

With only two weeks left until homecoming, any foolish, desperate hope I’d been secretly harboring that Sam would suddenly snap out of it, revert to the boy I used to know, and ask me to the dance was rapidly fading. Then, as I sit at my kitchen table, trying to finish this math project that is due Tuesday, I hear a knock at the front door.

My heart leaps in my chest, my pulse racing. Could there still be a chance?

Getting up from my chair, I take a quick look in the hallway mirror before turning to open my front door. However, it isn’t Sam standing there. It’s Chad Lewis, the star quarterback and perpetual center of high school attention, standing on my porch holding a bouquet of yellow roses. He’s wearing a bright, mega-watt smile and dressed in a sports coat and khakis.

I quickly step onto the porch with him, if nothing more than to look around the perimeter of the yard to make sure I’m not being pranked. “Hey, Chad. What are you doing here?”

Don’t get me wrong. I know I’m an attractive girl. I’m kind and participate in a lot of high school activities, both in various clubs as well as charitable organizations. I feel as if I’m liked. At least that’s what I told myself when they announced that I’d been voted on by my peers to be on the school’s homecoming court this year. But then again, I know people feel sorry for me after losing my parents last year. Yet after the way my best friend turned on me, I can’t help but be a bit suspicious at Chad’s arrival here.

“Hi, Alexis. I know it’s late notice. But it’s taken me awhile to get up the nerve. I wanted to ask if you’d do me the honor of being my date to homecoming.” He juts the bouquet in my direction as if in a hurry to get this over with.

I hesitate. Chad was loud, arrogant, and definitely used to getting whatever he wanted. Had his first choice backed out for some reason? Had he decided he’d rather have someone on his arm that might boost his chances at being voted homecoming king? I wouldn’t put it past him. As sketchy as all of this felt, I had to at least consider his invitation.

I’d just been elected to homecoming court, and refused to sit in my bedroom feeling sorry for myself while everyone else celebrated our senior year. All because the guy I wanted to go to homecoming with had turned into a dick.

So I reluctantly decide to push down the dull ache in my chest. “Yes. Thank you. That would be nice.” My words come out stiff.

Suddenly, Chad steps forward, enveloping me in an awkward hug. “Thank you.” His breath moved the fine hair beside my ear, but I felt nothing. No tingling. No spark of excitement about the upcoming event. Just… nothing.

“I’ll pick you up around 7:00. Okay?” I had to strain to hear him as he was speaking while walking away, practically skipping down the steps.

“Okay. Bye.”