Epilogue

FIA

One Year Later

“ I t was fake, and you all fell for it,” Colin rasped, leaning on the table with a mic in his hands. Mason gripped the tablecloth to prevent a horrendous accident from occurring while I secured my glass of champagne and narrowed my eyes at my brother, who looked sharp but slightly inebriated in a classic black and white tuxedo. “But little did I know that behind closed doors, these two were falling madly in love, and I credit myself for it.”

A few playful boos rang out from the crowd arranged at round tables in the ballroom at the Plaza Hotel, where glimmering white decorations turned the gilded room into a sweeping winter wonderland.

“What? Come on!” Colin said smoothly as he made a face, rolling his eyes to the crowd. “You’re welcome, all right? I should get credit where credit is due.”

“Get that mic away from him,” my dad barked somewhere in the crowd, to the laughter of our friends and family and all of the employees, investors, and business relationships on Mason’s side.

Mason leaned in, whispering in my ear, “You look beautiful, darling.”

“Thank you. I got married today.”

“So that’s why you’re wearing a white dress.” He pressed a kiss just below my ear that made me squirm in my seat, smiling like a big, blushing idiot. “Who’s the lucky guy?”

“He’s a billionaire.” I wiggled my eyebrows at him over the string music rippling through the air.

“Wow, congratulations. How’d you land a guy with pockets that deep?”

“I’m rather impressive in bed,” I said softly.

Mason had just leaned away to take a drink from his glass of scotch and nearly choked on it. The fiery look in his eyes told me enough. We were both ready to get out of here, to go home to our brownstone and curl up on the couch with a bowl of popcorn and watch the live action Grinch for the third time this week. But it was Christmas Eve. We had things we had to do, people we had to see, and also, we were literally at our own wedding.

The reception was going off without a hitch, though. Everyone was merry, drinking champagne and swirling on the dance floor. I looked over at my parents, who were seated with Mason’s parents. My mom and Mason’s mom had become friends over the past year while helping me plan the wedding. And yes, of course, I had planned my own wedding, with Heather and Abigail’s help.

I turned my head to look for the fiery old ladies and found them talking companionably together at one of the tables. Friends again, I noticed.

“One more dance from the beautiful newlyweds to round out the best Christmas event of the season, I think?” Colin crooned, still holding the microphone as he walked around the dance floor. He was looking for Liv, of course. They’d been dating under a veil of secrecy for several weeks now—at least we thought so. Neither was willing to say a thing about it yet.

“One dance, and we’ll go,” Mason whispered as he took my hand and led me away from our table and onto the dance floor.

“Play that song, maestro,” Colin barked into the mic, motioning to the string quartet.

A romantic, dramatic rendition of Santa Baby floated through the air as Mason swept me into a dance, his hand in mine, his other hand resting on my hip.

My dress swirled between us—a full skirt and a pinched waist that showed off my curves. It was made of white satin and silk, with pearl beading throughout. I’d worn my Nonna Gemma’s pearls and my Nonna Gianna’s vintage veil, but safely tucked it away after we were married at St. Patrick’s Cathedral, much to the delight of both of our families.

Exactly a year ago, Mason proposed in Central Park, and obviously, I’d said yes. We’d stumbled back to his parents’ apartment, giddy with excitement and madly in love, where I officially met his mother for the first time. Thankfully she fell madly in love with me from the very beginning. Somehow, we’d managed to persuade them to join us for Christmas dinner at my parents’ house, and the rest was history.

We spent the last year moving out of our apartments and into the brownstone he’d bought before we met. We turned it into a home together. I chose deep, emerald green paint for the living room. He chose a bright yellow wallpaper for the kitchen. It was warm inside that house. It felt like we’d lived there forever, filling the hallways with pictures and art we’d found scouring the flea markets on the weekends. We spent our summer split between his parents’ estate in the Hamptons and our house in the city, and this past fall my mom and I spent a week with his mom at their family estate in upstate New York, where I brought my camera and captured the changing of the seasons and the new wrinkles around my mom’s eyes from smiling so much.

I’d never been happier.

The song came to an end. Mason pulled me in for a kiss, dipping me over his arm, much to the delight of everyone in attendance. After a few quick congratulations, we finally saw an out and took it.

We ran right into the street in a full white gown and tuxedo, laughing and blushing with so much love I felt like I could burst.

“Rex is at the reception!” I laughed. “We’ll have to take a taxi home.”

“We’re not going home. Not just yet. I have something I want to show you.”

“What is it?”

Ignoring the cold bite in the air, he led me down the snowy sidewalk, through the glittering lights of the city, where total strangers cheered and rained congratulations down on us as we rushed past. He pulled me into the lobby of a high rise overlooking Central Park, where we rode up to the twenty-fourth floor and stepped out into a private lobby.

“What is this?” I asked. Then I noticed the engraved glass-paned doors. My mouth popped open as I turned to him. “You didn’t.”

“I did.” He pushed open one of the doors and led me inside a wide, open, unfinished space. “This is your new studio and planning space.”

I gasped as I looked around. “Mason.”

“I was thinking you could set up your studio here, in this corner. You have half of the floor, so there’s plenty of space. We could put up a few walls so you could do different themes, and then this—” He jogged to the far side, motioning with his hands. “Your office, with a view of the park.”

Tears of shock and joy stung my eyes.

“And over here, some other small offices, or an open floor plan with some desks. A conference room. What do you think?”

“You did this for me?” I asked, barely able to speak through the emotions welling up inside me.

“You have no space in your office at home. Your photography business needs this. You needed a real studio and you were so busy with all the events you were managing right before our wedding.” He took my hands, rambling. “You can hire a few assistants to help with event planning now and focus on photography if you want to. Your options are open. I just—I wanted to give you something that was yours, your own space.”

“The twenty-fourth floor?”

“For Christmas, of course.”

I’d never felt so loved and seen in my life.

I’d started my little business a few months ago. Sure, I’d continued taking pictures. I shot several weddings this summer, refusing Mason’s financial help until I had a firm business plan. When the seasons changed, I was ready. I had a few clients already who wanted my help with their holiday parties and galas. But I did everything out of one of the bedrooms in our brownstone, which ended up cluttered and bursting by the seams by the time our wedding rolled around.

We’d walked by this very building earlier this year and I’d mentioned how incredible it would be to have an office overlooking the park. I hadn’t thought Mason was listening at the time. I didn’t even think I’d said the dream out loud, but here it was.

Mason walked away and returned with a bottle of champagne and two flutes. We sat on the floor and watched the New York City skyline twinkle all around us, sipping champagne, talking about our dreams for the future.

A future together, forever, and ever, and ever…

“I love you,” I told him, knitting his fingers in mine.

He brushed a kiss over my knuckles, over the wedding band now taking up real estate below my engagement ring. “I love you .”

“What do we do now?” I asked.

“Do you want to go home?”

I nodded, and together we walked back out onto the street, hailing a taxi. Mason had to stuff my dress inside, which would no doubt make the ladies at Vivaldi’s squirm if they found out. But soon, we were walking into our house, which was decorated with fresh flowers and cards of not only congratulations but Christmas wishes.

He helped me out of the dress, taking a moment to run his fingers over my skin as I slipped out of it, and before I knew it, we were curled up in bed together, breathing heavy, my fingers interlaced with his as I pressed a kiss to his lips.

“Merry Christmas,” I whispered as he fell asleep with his arms around me.

I woke to fresh snow the next morning, while Mason made coffee. I hurried to gather the gifts we’d be bringing to his family and mine, and caught sight of him in the kitchen looking relaxed and unruffled.

Home. This was home. Not this house or this city. But him.

“What are you doing?” He chuckled over the rim of his favorite coffee mug—his Christmas present from me last year.

I raised the camera to my face and took a few pictures of him, smiling behind the lens.

He walked toward me, setting his coffee down as he gently took the camera from me and turned it to face me instead.

“I haven’t put any makeup on yet.”

“Me neither. But you don’t need it. You never have.” He chewed his lower lip as he took a few pictures. He was a natural talent, of course. Mason was good at everything.

“We have to leave soon if we’re going to make it to your parents’ place for brunch.”

“It’s going to be a long day, huh?” He set the camera down on the counter, looking me up and down. “I can’t believe we just got married. Has it sunk in for you yet?”

I shook my head. “It doesn’t feel like anything changed. Is that weird?”

“No, I think that’s a good thing. I always—Well, this always felt right. From the beginning, this felt right with you.”

“You’re going to make me cry again,” I teased, but deep down I was dizzy with happiness.

“Are you ready to go celebrate your favorite holiday, Mrs. O’Leary?”

“Always, Mr. O’Leary.”

He smiled with a faint blush on his cheeks as he went back to his coffee, and I went back upstairs to get dressed. I caught my reflection in the mirror, smiling at myself, feeling like everything was right in the world.

And it was.

“Our moms have a little wager going,” Mason said as he slid into the driver seat of his car.

“About what?”

“When the pregnancy announcement is going to happen. My mom said Valentine’s Day, but your mom is giving us at least until after the honeymoon.”

I sputtered with laughter as he wove through traffic. But then I thought about it for a moment.

“Why not give them what they want?”

Mason looked over at me with an arch of his brow. “You want to?”

“Have your giant babies?” I laughed, but his eyes twinkled with want. “Yeah. I do.”

***