He's Strong. He's Hot. He's Foreign. (And He's in the Mafia?)

The next day was hell at work. It was Friday night and everyone in the neighborhood seemed to be craving French food. At least I didn't have Diane’s job. She was the head chief and extremely paranoid, especially about anything to do with food. I’d often find her looking over my shoulder as I prepared dishes. But when you look past the OCD, she was pretty fun to hang out with outside the kitchen.

Peter kept annoying me about getting off of work for my birthday, but I wasn’t about to ask Christophe for time off on one of our busiest nights.

“Jane!” I heard Christophe’s voice ring out through the kitchen, standing out amidst all the chatter and shouting in the kitchen and the dining hall.

I turned around, whispering to one of my assistants in a low voice, ”What does he want now?” before clearing my throat and saying with hidden exasperation, “Yes Christophe?”

“There’s a man standing by the door claiming he is your boyfriend and today is your birthday…is this true?” he said, loud enough for the whole kitchen to hear.

“Hey you didn't tell me it was your birthday!” Anthony, a cook, said.

“That’s because she doesn’t want us to know, because she hates being the center of attention,” Diane muttered, sprinkling basil in a pot of soup.

Christophe cocked his head to the side, “Go celebrate your birthday with your boyfriend or you’re fired.”

“Jeez why such high stakes?” I snapped, immediately taking off my apron.

“Because you wouldn’t go if they weren't,” he said simply before leaving.

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“I told you your boss would let you off,” Peter smirked as we walked down the street hand in hand, our fingers intertwined.

“I kind of knew he would too,” I confessed, going into another rant, “but I kinda wanted to be at work for my birthday, and what’s so special about birthdays anyway? Another year older, so what? I think I’m gonna start counting the years by the wrinkles on my face.”

Peter laughed and kissed my cheek, “So how old are you in wrinkle-years? 3 months?”

I let out a dry laugh, “No, like 5, you should see my worry wrinkles,” I lifted my eyebrows up and down slowly trying to show him the creases on my forehead.

“Silly girl,” he chuckled, “You have nothing to worry about for another 10 years at least, darashya.”

“So where do you want to go?” I asked, swinging our hands back and forth.

“It’s not my decision” he said, smiling at me, “The birthday girl gets to pick”

“Can we just go home then? I’m really tired,” I said, yawning and resting my head on his shoulder.

“Okay, but don’t tell me you’re just going to disappear in the bed sheets,” he said, sliding an arm around my waist.

“Mmm…” I mumbled, digging my head in his shoulder.

“I’ll answer for you…you won’t,” he whispered.

“Why not?” I asked, elbowing him.

“You won’t want to,” he explained, kissing the top of my head.

“I’ll take your word for it,” I laughed.

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“Close your eyes,” Peter said as we got into the elevator at our building.

“Peter you know I don’t like surprises,” I groaned as his hand went over my eyes.

“Don’t you trust me, my sweet?” he murmured, his hot breath against my ear.

“Of course I trust you,” I said, laughing nervously. I felt around behind me, just to make sure he was still there.

“Darashya, I think you might want to wait until we get to our apartment for that,” he chuckled as my hands touched his behind by accident.

“Sorry,” I blushed as the elevator dinged. I felt Peter’s hand slide into mine, leading me forward.

“Keep your eyes closed,” he reminded me as I blinked to see a glimpse of the hallway leading to our apartment.

“Why do my eyes have to be closed?!” I whined as we stopped in front of what was presumably our front door. I heard the jingling of keys and the turn of a lock. I felt his hand return over my eyes and he whispered, “You’ll see.”

Peter walked me inside, closing the door with a quiet ‘click’. He removed his hands from over my eyes and said, “Open your eyes, birthday girl.”

Peter really had gone all out. Every inch of the living room was decorated with streamers and balloons. I had never seen our white-themed living room bursting with such color. On the dining room table was a 3 tiered square cake. One layer red, one layer white, and one layer yellow. Each layer was decorated with something different. The yellow tier had small cupcakes and other pastries made of icing on the side. The red tier had white hearts and a picture of Peter and me from on one of our first dates. The white one was topped with a wax candle in the shape of 21. It had hairspray bottles on it from when I told him I told him I played Penny in Hairspray in my senior year and he wouldn’t stop teasing me about it. On the side of the middle yellow layer were written the words in white icing: Happy Birthday Jane, I Love You.

“Peter…who made this?” I asked, slowly walking towards it as if it were the Holy Grail.

“Your favorite bakery,” he smirked, wrapping an arm around my waist, his nose in my hair.

“Magnolia bakery?” I asked, my voice high in excitement.

He nodded, kissing the top of my head.

“The one in Rockefeller Center, right?”

“Of course, Janey,” he chuckled, “That’s the only one we go to.”

“Because Giorgio works there and he’s like amazing. I can tell he made this, he made this, didn't he?” I assured, circling around the cake, taking in the amazing detail only Giorgio could create.

“Peter thank you so much,” I said, hugging him, my arms wrapped tightly around his middle.

“You haven’t even seen your real present yet,” he said, holding my face in his hands.

“My real present?” I questioned, poking his chest.

“Yes, your real present,” he repeated, his hand over my eyes once more.

“Peter!” I whined, exaggerating the ‘e’ and the ‘er’ in Peter as he began leading once again blind me across the room.

“What did you do to the kitchen?” I snapped once I figured out he was taking me to the kitchen. My whole body stiffened, causing him to pick me up. I let out a squeal, clinging to him. I opened my eyes to see the most beautiful sight in the world. Thank God Peter was holding me because I felt myself get weak in the knees. The entire kitchen was redone. Not to say it wasn’t cool as it was before, but it just wasn’t built to hold all my fails and redo’s. This new kitchen was almost as big as the kitchen at Christophe’s. There was a separate refrigerator and freezer and two stainless steel ovens. Yes, you heard me, TWO ovens. I could hear the hallelujah chorus all around me. Jesus was right in front of me, giving me a big ‘ol hug (it means that much to me). All the cabinetry and floors were redone. The floor was crème-colored tile and the cabinets were light maple. All of the counters were all shiny and made of granite. Tears of joy flooded my face and I hid my face in his shoulder.

“Fuck, Peter, how the fuck am I gonna beat you out on your birthday?!” I wailed, “You’re so fucking amazing.”

“Darashya you don’t need to beat me out, I just love seeing you happy,” he whispered in my ear.

“Whatever, Peter, you just wait,” I growled playfully.

He laughed and set me down asking, “You want some champagne?”

I gave him a hesitant look, “You better not spike it with your evil vodka.”

“I promise I won’t,” he chuckled, kissing me.

So we had the champagne and Peter, being all cheesy and romantic, toasted to the ‘most beautiful girl in the whole world’, and I toasted to the ‘craziest man in the whole world’.

“You want your cake?” he asked, his hand sliding into mine, kissing it.

“I’m almost afraid to cut it,” I said, chuckling slightly.

“It’s chocolate marble cake with strawberry filling,” he murmured, teasingly. Peter knew my ultimate weakness.

“Okay just give me some!” I said a little too aggressively. He laughed and ruffled my hair.

“Calm down, my sweet,” he said, smiling down at me, “Now you just sit here while I go in the kitchen and cut your cake.”

“Yessir,” I muttered, slumping down on one of the dining room chairs, pulling out my cell phone as he picked up the cake.

“You sure you don’t need help with that?” I asked, watching the cake nervously.

“No Jane,” he sighed, disappearing in the kitchen.

I checked my messages to find that I had a text from Rachel. She was asking if Peter had fucked me yet or was he too busy buying me an island in the Caribbean. Before I could text back for her to shut her face, Peter came in with two pieces of cake, a strange look on his face. A smile was plastered as his face, but his eyes were cold and calculating. I’m not sure what was bothering him but I knew there it was something big.

“How does Giorgio stand to be so amazingly amazing?” I muttered after taking a bite out of the cake. As always, it was mouthwatering and while I was enjoying the cake, I was also burning with jealousy because I knew I’d never be this good.

I looked up to see Peter sitting next to me, but not eating. Instead he was staring at me intently, his whole expression now serious.

“Seriously, Peter, you should eat, this thing is awesome,” I said with a mouthful of cake, impairing my speech slightly.

I dug my fork in for another bite, but felt my fork collide with something unexpected. Something hard, as hard as metal.

“What’s this?” I whispered mostly to myself and I dug it out.

Hanging off of my fork was a ring, a gorgeous diamond ring. One huge diamond was in the middle of the platinum band with two smaller diamonds on either side.

“Either Giorgio’s recipe called for 2 cups of beautiful jewelry or…” I couldn’t find myself to finish as my eyes met Peter’s. He stared at me; determination engraved all over his features as he knelt down in front of me and took my hand in his.

“Janey, ever since we first met I knew you were special, but I wanted to figure out what was so special about you. You are so much more than meets the eye, and that is an extraordinary thing because you are already so beautiful. You are also kind, compassionate, lovely, charming, smart, and extremely gifted. Jane Marie Xavier, my darashya, would you marry me?”

By this point, I was bawling my eyes out.

“Peter Goddamnit!” I screamed, hiding my face in my hands as I continued to sob.

“What is it, darashya?” he inquired, his voice shaky.

“I give up, I’m never going to be able to top this…ever, congratulations you win the better birthday party thrower award, would you like a freaking medal?!” I shouted hysterically.

Peter laughed nervously and said, “Please don’t cry, honey,” He stroked my hair, his eyes locked on mine, begging for an answer.

“Peter…I’m barely even 21…” I hiccupped, my face hot and stained with tears.

“Jane…please my sweet, I cannot think of anyone else I would rather share eternity with than you, you’ve brought joy and life into my world. When my mother died, I thought I’d never be happy again, but then you came along and you made me laugh, you made me feel okay to be myself,” he said, his voice as soft as velvet.

Marriage. Something my mind hadn't even fathomed except in my wildest dreams. I was just given the dream proposal, from the perfect man, now it was up to me to write the picture perfect ending. Peter was, as I’d told Rachel before, too good to be true. I reached out and put my palm on his cheek, checking just to make sure. His cool skin felt like ice against my burning hand.

“Who else would put up with me?” I whispered, more to myself.

“Can I take that as a yes?” he asked.

I nodded, not being able to find words as I felt the tears coming again.

His arms were around almost instantly, sweeping me off my feet.

“Thank you, darashya, thank you,” he whispered, holding my face in his hands after he set me down.

"So this is forever?" I confirmed, wrapping my arms around his stomach and resting my head against his chest.

"However long you want it to be, Janey," he said, resting his chin on the top of my head, "I'm all yours."

"And I'm all yours," I assured him, closing my eyes.

I felt him move away from me and he picked up the ring, cleaning it with his shirt, "Are there any magic words I'm supposed to say before i put it on?" he asked.

I shook my head, giggling, "Nope, unless you want to add some."

"I think I'll just put it on and we'll see what happens," he smiled, taking my hand and sliding it on.

"It's beautiful," I mumbled, holding my hand up to study it better. The diamonds glinted slightly against the dim light.

"This is gonna last forever, i can tell," I smirked, my eyes still glued on the ring.

"Let's hope so," he sighed, his arms around me once more.