But why does he seem so tall? Does he have wedges in his shoes? I look down, and I see my own bare feet.
“Oh, my God! My shoes!” I look around frantically and spot them a few steps away. But it’s too late.
“And here they are! The soon-to-be Mr. and Mrs. Riker Lord!”
The curtain disappears as I paste the smile back on my face. The camera flashes are blinding, and I can’t see anything but spots.
“My shoes! My shoes!” I hiss, smiling but thinking Mrs. Riker Lord? Who said I would take his first and last name? I’m not even going to marry him!
“What?”
“I took my shoes off and—”
Riker laughs and leans down. His arm slips under my knees, and he nearly knocks me over. I grab his shoulders as he lifts me against his chest and takes long strides to our table. I can’t help but laugh.
“Put me down!” I protest. The crowd roars as they break into applause. Someone rushes to my chair and pulls it out as Riker gently puts me down in front of it. I smooth my snug skirt before sitting, and a waiter rushes toward me, my spike-heeled sandals swinging from his fingers.
“Allow me,” Riker says. He kneels and caresses a calf, lifting it at the same time with his other hand. He slips the sandal on and buckles it, then lifts my other leg and does the same. And after kissing my hand and bowing slightly, he takes his seat, beaming. And I beam right back at him.
“Thank you, Riker.” My voice booms through the microphone. Shit. The crowd is still clapping, but the tuxedo-clad man, apparently the moderator, takes his place at the podium and speaks.
“Thank you, everyone. Thank you for attending. I assume everyone has had a chance to pick up a press kit at the entrance, but if you haven’t, no worries. You can grab your kits on the way out, and there will be goody bags for everyone.”
He smiles and gestures to the front of the room. And I realize this is one of the biggest press conferences I’ve ever seen. All the major TV networks are here and far too many reporters to count.
“We know you’re busy, so we won’t keep you long. We’ll have brief introductions, which are hardly necessary, of course”—he pauses expertly to let cameras catch the laughter—"and then you’ll have the floor for Q&A. How does that sound?”
The applause isn’t quite as loud this time around, and a few reporters fan themselves with paper.
“Now, as you know, this is Riker Lord and his beautiful fiancée, Jane Gordon. Riker is well-known for his business success and philanthropic work here in New York. Jane is a successful attorney with one of the largest legal firms in the tri-state area, Ellis and Partners.”
He turns to us. “You ready, kids?”
I lean into the microphone, suddenly unafraid. “As ready as we’ll ever be.”
Riker leans over and kisses my forehead. “I’m definitely ready.” And as if on cue, I smile up at him adoringly.
The moderator says a few more words about our whirlwind romance and secret engagement. Then he picks a reporter, who stands.
“I understand that Riker has been quite the lady’s man for most of his life. How are you handling that?”
“The past is the past. Now is now.” My voice is confident and sure as reporters take turns peppering us with questions.
“When is the wedding?” This one is for Riker.
“As soon as we set a date, we’ll let you know. I guarantee it will be soon, though. We’re both ready to settle down and start a family.”
I almost choke and struggle to maintain my composure.
“Speaking of family, isn’t it true that you have a young daughter, Jane?” The room gets quiet.
“Yes, I do.”
“How do you feel about bringing Riker into her life after such a brief period of time?” She looks at her notes. “She’s only eight, is that right?”
“Yes, that’s right.” I hesitate. This isn’t where I want to go. Nia isn’t part of this. I smile more graciously than before, and I blink, my mind blank. Finally, I come up with something.
“My daughter and Riker get along fabulously. In fact, it was my daughter’s idea.”
“Your daughter’s idea that you two should get married?” The reporter’s face took on an air of incredulity.
“Yes, that’s right.”
“Isn’t she a little young to offer her mother relationship advice?”
I’m speechless again. “Of course. What I mean is—”
“She means she was concerned about her daughter. But Nia liked me from the beginning, and I’ve fallen in love with her as much as with Jane. They’re a package deal, and Nia senses that. I’m determined to be the best father any man could be, and Jane feels satisfied that her daughter approves.”
His eyes don’t leave the reporter as he squeezes my hand. I nod, grateful, and I bring his hand to my lips and kiss it. This time, I don’t have to fake the smile. I don’t have to fake the affection. This time, I’m feeling it.
18 Riker
I stare out my hotel window overlooking the city and can’t stop shaking my head. The press conference was a success beyond what anyone had hoped for or what I imagined it could be. Terry’s idea was right on, and I plan to pay her a big bonus on condition that Jane gets half.
It was Jane who pulled it off, after all. It was Jane who was the main attraction, and there wouldn’t have been any PR opportunity if it weren’t for her. Especially not one that produced mostly positive stories. Of course, they aren’t all in yet, but it’s a great start.
My phone rings again.
I turn off the ringer so voicemail can take it and then read the transcribed message.
“An old friend says he can’t wait to meet you, and congratulations,” I say.
Jane laughs. “Tell him thanks
