Authors: Shelby Rebecca
It’s warm and lit softly with candles inside booths lining the walls and a few tables placed in the middle. There are pictures on the wall of families and Italy. There’s one of Sophia Loren next to the wall where we sit down after he helps me with my coat. He hangs them on a coat rack near the entrance to the room like the natives do.
My heart jumps when they bring us the glass jar filled with chopped greens and garlic. “Okay, let me make you one,” I say, ripping a piece of bread and spreading the concoction on with a small spoon. “Try it,” I say, handing it to him. I watch as it hits him and he’s shocked for a second from all the garlic, but then he closes his eyes and savors it.
“You’re right,” he says.
“About what?”
“It’s so bad, it’s good,” and then he takes another bite. “No one’s going to be able to stand us after this, though.” I take a bite, too, and giggle a little.
“It’s okay. Last time Kaya and I had to ride the bus home. No one would sit anywhere near our bench.” And he laughs so genuinely I tear up a little. I don’t know if it’s the garlic, or Kolton that makes me want to laugh so hard that I cry.
He orders for us. I get the Portobello mushrooms and veggies, and he orders the garlic chicken, and some wine I didn’t understand. “The port. Your best,” he clarifies, “I don’t care about the cost.” Our waiter agrees with him before going to put in our orders.
“No seafood?” I ask. “We’re in San Francisco.”
“Nope. I want comfort food, you know?” he asks, and I do know exactly what he means.
When our waiter comes back, he pops the cork of the wine and pours a little for Kolton to taste. He circles it in his glass like a pro, and seems pleased when he tastes it, so the waiter pours some for me, and then more for Kolton before leaving us the bottle.
“Go ahead,” he says. “It’s your first real drink,” he says. So I tilt the glass back and let the liquid fall down my throat like velvet. I taste so many things at once. “Do you like it?” he asks. “It will go great with what you’re eating tonight.”
“It’s really good, but I need to get used to it. It’s a little strong,” I clarify. Something about what I’ve said makes his eyes twinkle a little from the candlelight or from the love we feel. Probably a little of both.
The wine warms me. He warms me, too. I watch people as they trot up and down the sidewalk outside of the windows along the wall, and we order garlic ice cream, and then the tiramisu. “Sorry, but they didn’t have the mayonnaise chocolate cake,” he teases.
“But you know it was actually good.” He nods, and pulls a blue Tiffany’s box out from somewhere under the table.
“Kolton?” I question.
“Calm down, Mia. It’s not exactly what you think,” he explains as he opens the box showing me a large red gemstone on a silver band. “You’re young—too young to marry me,” he says, as my heart palpitates, and I watch as his eyes light up. “But this ring is a promise,” he says. “I’m not asking you to promise you’ll marry me,” he says, earnestly. “I’m promising you everything this ring represents. Rubies protect and open the heart and support love.”
“It’s beautiful,” I say, as he slips the ring over the finger on my right hand. “I—I love it. It’s perfect,” I say, moving it from my right hand to my left, where it should be as that finger is a direct line to one’s heart. He watches me, and I know that he understands what my gesture means. As soon as we’re ready and I’m old enough to make such a commitment, I am promising to accept his proposal. I have no doubt that we will be married in the near future.
As he picks up my hand, placing a kiss on the top of my hand, I can’t help but reflect that I’ve come full circle. The girl, who walked into this place as a scared orphan a year and a half ago, will walk out of here as a woman in her own right tonight. For him, he’s learned how to earn trust. How to put someone else’s needs above his own—and what real love actually feels like. We’ve gained so much—and we’re a family.
In the places where there used to be scars and fissures that could easily break, now the weaknesses are stronger than ever before. I do this for him, and he does this for me.
I am like a phoenix rising from the ashes, and he’s helped me fly. I wouldn’t be who I am without him. I know that. I tell him that with my eyes.
I put my hand over his, and when I thank him, I’m thanking him for believing in me; I’m thanking him for fighting for us.
I thank him for this unending love.
The End
Shelby grew up between two mountains and a lake in Wasilla, Alaska. She used to run around in the tall grass, catch frogs, rescue dragonflies, ride horses, and ice-skate during recess. She still likes adventures and has even gone skydiving. Today she lives in Northern California with her husband, John and their daughter, Elise, and their two dogs.
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If you enjoyed this book, don’t forget to add your review to Amazon or Goodreads. When you do, be sure to email me at
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and I’ll send a personal email to thank you.
Thank you for helping to support Indie authors by letting others know what you think. To help spread the word, you can loan this book and tell your friends! Take care and keep in touch.
To my family, especially John and Elise, thank you for your patience with me while I’m writing, and when my characters are in my head and I don’t hear what you’re saying until you say it twice. We’ve been through so much during the time I was writing this manuscript. Our lives changed forever; we became stronger. It sucks when life tests your resolve, and we had multiple tests. I think we passed with flying colors. I love you, and recognize the sacrifices you’ve had to make while I live my passion—writing. Now, let’s buy a cabin in the woods and never come out unless we have to.
I have to thank my blogger peeps. Debra Presley and especially, Paula Agnes at
The Book Enthusiast Promotions
, Jennifer at
Read and Share Book Reviews
, and T London from
Crystal’s Many Reviewers
, who connected with me after I’d published my debut
, Sadie’s Mountain
. All three of you have been my cheerleaders, waving me toward a finished book. It means so much to get an email or pm from you guys asking how I am, reassuring me that I
can
write. That everything’s going to be okay. Telling me you can’t wait to read it. It helps; all of it. So thank you.
Realistic writing is not a solitary process. It takes reaching out to others for support when you need an expert. I had the extreme luck to meet Rudy Pariss from Season three of
The Voice
at one of his shows. The timing couldn’t have been better, as I’d just started writing
The Stage,
about a singing competition show. He was able to explain the process for trying out, how the show is shot, and the order that things are taped—or even small details like how an earpiece feels when it’s molded to your ear. He’s a talented man with a new album coming out. I hope his good will toward me will be paid back ten-fold.
I also have the extreme luck to have a brother who’s a helicopter pilot. I knew Kolton wouldn’t fly commercially after what happened to him, so I reached out to my little brother, Joe Davis, and he walked me through a flying lesson over the phone. It’s such a cool process, especially the positive exchange of controls. I thought it was so symbolic of Kolton learning to let go, and Mia learning to trust again. So thank you, Poes. You’re the best.
To my beta readers: Paula Agnes, Trenda London, Cara Olson, Deborah Tucci, Leigh Ann Christy, and Renee Hicks, your input has been vital in the process toward making this story the best in can be. I know I’ve pestered you all with questions, and I appreciate all of your help.
To my editor Juli Valenti of
Juli’s Elite Editing
, I think we make a great team. I see you like a sculptor, taking my design and removing the unnecessary words and helping me say what I’d meant to say. It takes talent to do. I’m so glad to work with you again.
To my cover designer, Kari Ayasha at
Cover to Cover Designs
, I love how you take my thoughts and make it an even better reality. You’re so talented, and I’m proud to have your work adorning my book.
To my proof reader, Marlene Engle at
Book Mama Blog
. Thank you for working so hard to help me reach my deadline. I love that you help me by finding those little oops! moments. Thank you so much.
I wanted to thank Lisa Watmough from
Rock Wat Designs
. She’s a rocker at survivor and a rock star at heart, and so talented. I know my readers are going to love your key chains. Amazing job you did!
Thank you to all the talented and successful authors who’ve answered all my questions, from cover art, formatting, and marketing. There’s one important thing I’ve learned during this last year, and that is, even though we run our own—well, everything from writing to publication and marketing—we Indie authors aren’t really doing this alone. Thank you to all the authors over at Club Indie for taking me under their wing and answering all of my questions—even helping me through those low moments when I think I’m making the wrong choices, or when I’m obsessing about things I can’t control. You all teach me to just keep doing what I love—writing.
And to my readers, thank you for taking a chance on my writing and trusting me to take you on this journey. The Tour is the final book in The Phoenix Rising series. At some point, I would like to come back to Kolton and Mia and write their wedding as a novella. But first, I’m starting a new book, and have a few others planned before I revisit Mia when she’s old enough to get married. Thank you so much. A book is nothing without a reader, so I wouldn’t do this without knowing you’d be on the other end reading it and caring about my characters like I do. I promise you, their story is not over. We’ll all get our happily ever after.
Thank you so much.