Page 65 of How to Get Lucky
I flash back to the moment in the market when we heard this number. To when I wondered if I’d have a chance to tell her my philosophy about song timelines.
Now is that chance.
“Did I ever tell you my theory about certain songs?”
“You didn’t, but I’m dying to know.”
“Sometimes you need to hear a tune one more time and then—boom. It feels brand-new again. Tonight is that night for this song.”
“Are you feeling lucky?” she asks, a little flirty, a lot happy.
“No,” I say. “I’m feeling the luckiest.”
Her grin melts me as she leans in and drops a kiss onto my lips. “What do you know? I feel the exact same way.”
I squeeze her a little tighter and nuzzle into her. “I also feel like he wrote this song for us,” I whisper to London.
“Maybe he did.”
I gently kiss her right behind the ear.
Just the way I did on our first date.
Only this time, it won’t be our last.
It’ll be the first of many.
Countless, I hope.
38
From the Woman Power Trio, aka the text messages of London and her two besties, Olive and Emery
London: *sends pic of Mr. Darcy sitting on top of a stack of moving boxes*
Olive: Moving in with Awesome Boyfriend Day. That’s the best kind of moving day.
Emery: Yay! So happy for you. I knew he was the one—not just the dog, but the guy. I read enough scripts to know when the storyline is perfect.
Olive: Maybe their romance will become a book, and then we can listen to the Pegasus regale us with the tale of their courtship.
London: And Emery can sell it to Hollywood.
Emery: Dreams do come true! Especially since London found a man who gets all her beautiful sides.
Olive: It’s true. He gets her science-geek side and her dance-nerd side.
Emery: And her obsession-with-ice-cream side.
London: He gets my dog fixation too.
Olive: We all do, London. We all do.
Epilogue
Six months later
I look good.
Suit, tie, button-down.
Ready to rock it at Temple Israel later today.
After one last glance in the bedroom mirror, I head into the living room dressed for a Saturday afternoon gig. London is curled up with a magazine on the couch, bookended by two fur babies nestled against her thighs.
Those lucky dogs.
I’d be jealous if I didn’t have the same access to her.
But I do, so I don’t mind sharing with the two pooches I love.
Her eyes sparkle as I enter the room. “Ooh, look at you and your sexy tie.”
“Thank you,” I say, showing off my look with a spin. “B’nai mitzvah today. Figure two twin boys becoming men is a tie-worthy celebration.”
“Well, you look scrumptious.”
“Thanks, Lucky. What do you have on tap today?”
“I’m taking these two over to the dog run in a bit. Then, the Burlesque Brunch show I choreographed has two sold-out seatings, so I’m going to run downtown and check them out. Make sure everything looks good.”
I grab my phone and keys then head to the couch to give Bowie a high five and Mr. Darcy some scratches.
“Do you need a ride downtown?” I ask. “After I set up, I can come home and give you a lift if you’d like.”
“Nope. I’m good,” London says with a smile. “I’ll take the train. My boyfriend introduced me to the joys of public transit.”
“He sounds like a cool guy.”
“He’s all right,” she says, smiling. “Besides, this will give me a chance to look over my notes for André Davies’s music video shoot.”
“From the little I’ve seen, you’re going to blow them away. Like you always do. Like you did with the show at Edge,” I say, since her choreography has turned out to be a huge boon to business. Archer and the partners have been thrilled. I bend down to give her a kiss. “See you tonight, then.”
“Mmm,” she moans lightly, sending sparks all over my skin. “Indian food and MythBusters?” she asks as I head to the door.
That sounds like a perfect evening. “Sexiest Saturday ever.”
“It will be if you don’t lose that tie. I have plans for that tie. The tie-me-up kind of plans.”
Yup, great sex—I’m having it.
Leave it to London to make perfect even better.
Another Epilogue
One year later
It’s a picture-perfect Saturday with my woman and our pooches at the dog park. The park is full of the usual weekend crowd, four-legged friends playing in packs while their owners sip coffee or toss tennis balls. This has become a regular highlight of our week.
Only, this morning should be a little out of the ordinary. In a good way, I hope.
In the corner of the park, London gives Mr. Darcy some well-deserved belly rubs, and I scratch Bowie behind the ear to divert his attention from a squirrel in a nearby tree. Petting him has always settled my nerves, and I could use that calm right now.
I steal a glance at London, who’s cooing at her favorite little guy. Her love of dogs is yet another thing I adore about the woman of my dreams.
