Page 65 of Pomona Afton Can Totally Catch a Killer
I knew all the important parts, anyway.
“Pomona Abigail Afton,” Gabe said. “At first, I never thought we’d even like each other. Then we became friends, and I was sure you’d never think of me the way I thought of you. But then you did. And it’s been the greatest joy and privilege of my life, to be able to share it with you.” He paused. Tears were sparkling in my eyes, hopefully in a way that saidold-school movie star. “I want to share the rest of it with you too. Pom, will you marry me?”
I clapped a perfectly manicured hand to my mouth. “Yes. Yes. A hundred times, yes.”
He stood and slid the ring onto my finger. I turned it this way and that, dazzled by the way the sun shone through it. And then, of course, he kissed me. The photographer snapped away, capturing every angle.
When we broke apart, I was out of breath, elated, filled with joy like a balloon close to popping. It took me a moment to realize that we were surrounded by the sound of… people clapping?
“Look,” Gabe said, gesturing down below. I peered over the railing (careful not to get too close to the edge). It was amazing how I could fit even more joy inside me, because below us cheered so many of the people who mattered. Andrea and Caleb and his family, including my soon-to-be nephews. Nicholas and Jessica, who—shoot, was wearing Grandma’s actual heirloom diamond ring. Hopefully that wouldn’t come up in conversation.
And there were our friends. Many of them, from all facets of our life. Gabe’s high school and college and grad school buddies. Vienna and Persimmon and others from that strata of society. Millicent and Coriander and more of my party friends. My heart swelled, seeing them all here together. It felt like it had been made whole.
I squeezed Gabe’s hand. “Our wedding is going to be epic.”
“Absolutely,” Gabe said. “Wait, how epic?”
My head tilted, already full of ideas. I was definitely gettingthose designer peacocks this time, come hell or high water. And a private resort on the water. Not on a private island, because I wanted at least a couple of paparazzi to be able to sneak in. But I also kind of wanted to be on top of a really tall building. Was it possible to do both at once? Was it too much to—
A scream. I jerked back to the present just in time to see the photographer lurch back from the edge, as if he’d been about to fall. “Oh my God,” I said. “Are you okay?”
He flashed a dirty look over his shoulder at the videographer, who was stubbornly not looking back at him. “Your angle isn’t more important than my life, asshole.”
I furrowed my brow. I was an expert at photo angles by this point in my life. And that spot where the videographer had almost bumped him off? It wasn’t even close to the ideal angle to capture this—
No.Purposely, I turned away. Even if I was the greatest investigator of murder this city had ever known, this was not the time to focus on it. So I nestled into Gabe’s side, beaming down at the cheering crowd of loved ones below, and prepared to celebrate us.
