My mother, Ethan corrected, is never wrong, especially about what’s good for me. Jessica took the ring box from his hand, studying the emerald. Why not a diamond? Because you’re not conventional.
You’re rare, valuable, and the exact colour of your eyes when you’re about to challenge me on something ridiculous I’ve said in a meeting. His smile softened. Also, diamonds remind you of Wall Street, and I wanted something that only reminded you of us.
You’ve thought this through, she said, impressed despite herself. I’m thorough, he agreed, then added with uncharacteristic uncertainty. Jessica, you haven’t answered me.
She looked up at him, at this man who had transformed from the cold, ruthless CEO to someone who fought for truth and justice alongside her. Who had risked his company and reputation to do what was right. Who looked at her now not as a conquest or an asset, but as an equal.
Someone to build a life with. Before I answer, she said carefully, I need to know something. If I say yes, am I accepting a job as well as a proposal? Because I’m not sure.
The job offer is separate, Ethan interrupted. Accept it, decline it, counter-offer. That’s business.
This, he gestured to the ring, is personal, the only merger I care about right now. In that case, Jessica said, slipping the ring onto her finger, I accept. The proposal, that is.
The job offer still requires negotiation. Joy transformed Ethan’s face as he lifted her off her feet in an exuberant embrace. I wouldn’t expect anything less.
He set her down gently. Name your terms, future Mrs Mitchell. Oh no, she laughed, wrapping her arms around his neck.
I’m keeping Porter professionally. You’ll have to earn having your name on my office door. Challenge accepted, he murmured against her lips.
Later that evening, they celebrated with Eleanor at Maple Street Diner, now under new ownership, Jessica’s. She had purchased it with part of the substantial settlement she’d received when Harrington Capital’s fraudulent practices were exposed. To second chances, Eleanor toasted, raising her champagne glass.
The diner had been closed for the private celebration, its worn booths and polished counters gleaming with new life, much like its owner. And to blizzards, Ethan added with a grin. May they always lead us exactly where we need to be.
Even if it’s not where we plan to go, Jessica finished, her heart full as she looked between her future husband and the woman who would soon be her mother-in-law. Eleanor beamed at them. I knew it from the moment I saw you two together.
The way you challenged each other, respected each other, no pretense, no games. Mother, Ethan warned good-naturedly. What? I’m allowed to be smug.
Eleanor patted Jessica’s hand. He needed someone who saw the man behind the CEO. And you, my dear, needed someone who would stand beside you in the fight, not run from it.
As if on cue, the bell above the diner door jingled. They turned to see Mr. Winters, their first customer from the night of the blizzard, entering with the small wrapped package. Hope I’m not interrupting, he said, approaching their booth.
Just heard the news about the engagement and wanted to drop this off. You’re always welcome, Arthur, Jessica assured him, accepting the gift. Inside was a beautiful hand-carved wooden snowflake.
Made it myself, Mr. Winters explained, to remember how it all started. It’s perfect, Jessica said, genuinely touched. After he left, Ethan examined the delicate carving.
We should have a winter wedding, he suggested, come full circle. In the diner, Jessica teased. Why not? Eleanor chimed in.
It would be uniquely yours. I was joking, Jessica protested. I’m not, Ethan said thoughtfully.
Not entirely. Not about the winter part, at least. There’s something poetic about finding our future in the season that brought us together.
Jessica considered the idea, warming to it despite herself. December, she decided. But not in the diner…
