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suffering. Why didn’t you stop it? she wanted to ask.
    “This project could take the entire summer. I’m not sure I want to be away that long.”
    Nana lifted an eyebrow, high over the rim of her glasses. “Why?”
    Olivia couldn’t keep it in any longer. Her excitement spilled out, along with her next words. “Because I think I have a reason to stay.”
    “That reason being a Brad Pitt look-alike with a Harvard law degree?”
    Deep breath, Olivia, she cautioned herself. You’ve been here before, and you’ve been disappointed. Take it easy. She couldn’t, of course. She nearly came out of her seat as she said, “I think Rand Whitney is going to ask me to marry him.”
    Nana took off her glasses and set them on the table. “Oh, my dear, darling Olivia.” She used her napkin to dab her eyes.
    Olivia was glad she had decided to tell Nana. There were some in her family who would react with more skepticism. Some—her mother being one of these—would be quick to remind her that at the ripe old age of twenty-seven, Olivia already had two failed engagements under her belt.
    As if she could ever forget.
    She pushed aside the thought and added, “He’s selling his apartment downtown. It’s my latest project, in fact. I need to check on the finishing touches this afternoon because it’s going on the market tomorrow. When he gets home from the airport, I’ll be there, waiting for him. He’s been in L.A. all week at the West Coast office of his firm. He said when he gets back, he’s going to ask me.”
    “To marry him.”
    “I assume so.” Olivia felt the slightest flicker of unease. He hadn’t actually said that.
    “So selling his place is a good thing.”
    Olivia felt herself smiling all over. “He’s looking at properties on Long Island.”
    “Oh, my. The man is ready to settle down.”
    Olivia’s grin widened. “So you’ll understand…I need to think about your offer.”
    “Certainly, dear.” She signaled for the check with a familiar, regal gesture that never failed to bring a white-gloved waiter scurrying. “I hope it all turns out perfectly for you.”
     
    As she hurried up the stairs to Rand’s apartment near Gramercy Park, Olivia felt like the luckiest girl in the world. Here she was, enjoying the rare privilege of setting the scene for her own engagement, right down to the last detail. When Randall Whitney asked her to marry him, he would do so in a place created by her own imagination and hard work. So often in these situations, it was the job of the gentleman to create the proper ambience, and so often, he failed.
    Not this time, Olivia thought, enjoying a delicious tingle of excitement. This time, everything would be just right.
    Unlike the other times. With Pierce, the engagement had been doomed from the start by something Olivia refused to acknowledge until she discovered him taking a shower with another girl. With Richard, the moment of humiliation had come when she’d caught him using her ATM card to steal from her. Two strikes had left her doubting her own judgment…until Rand. This time, she wouldn’t get it wrong.
    She opened the front door, turned and pictured the way the apartment would look through Rand’s eyes. Perfect, that’s how, she thought. The place was the epitome of contemporary luxury, clean but not fussed over (even though she had fussed over every little thing for days), tasteful but not decorated (even though she had planned it obsessively).
    In the taxi ride from midtown, Olivia had gone over and over the scenario in her mind until she was nearly giddy with anticipation. In less than an hour, Rand would come through the door and step into this ideal setting. He probably wouldn’t go down on one knee; that wasn’t his style. Instead, he’d wear that raffish, have-I-got-a-deal-for-you grin as he reached into his jacket for the gleaming black box with the emerald-shaped logo of Harry Winston. Rand was a Whitney, after all. There were perks.
    Forcing herself