Which is why she didn’t see the parade of T-shirted, young, perky venue officials parading down the aisle—the same species that had been running the trivia contest and the other between-inning diversions—until they had come to a stop next to him.
“Mr. Jennings?” one of them whispered in his ear. “Ready for the big proposal?” She squatted down next to him, and he could see that she had “Jason Jennings” written on a piece of paper, along with what appeared to be their seat numbers. He opened his mouth to correct her, but before he could get a word out, her face changed. “Don’t get cold feet now,” she snarled, annoyance replacing perkiness. “There are half a dozen cameras trained on you, and everybody’s expecting a grand romantic gesture.”
“What’s happening?” Amy asked, concern etching its way onto her features. “Is everything okay?”
All of a sudden some kind of bullshit Celine Dion ballad came on, and they were on the Jumbotron. He had a sudden vision of Mason, suggesting they tuck ring shopping into their list of holiday errands after his epic fail of a non-proposal.
Amy deserved better. Even if it was just pretend. Crossing his fingers that she would take this in the spirit it was intended—as a joke, as something to make her laugh—he leaned over and whispered in her ear. “Just run with this. Follow my lead.”
The best part? He still had the goddamned ring in his pocket.
What was going on? Well, Amy knew what was going on. They were the random lucky/unlucky players of whatever game or contest was currently going down. A lifetime of coming to Jays games, and she’d never been tapped. It was kind of like jury duty, she supposed—eventually your number came up.
“Just run with this,” Dax whispered in her ear. “Follow my lead.”
Yeah, no way. She wasn’t about to let Dax hijack whatever was happening here, especially if it involved trivia. Especially if it involved a prize. She was about to tell him as much when he slipped out of his seat and knelt on the cement step of the aisle.
“That’s disgusting. Get up. Who knows what’s spilled…” She trailed off, belatedly realizing that the crowd was roaring in delight. There seemed to be some kind of light on her face, and Celine Dion was insisting that her heart would go on. She shot a questioning glance at Dax. He was looking at the Jumbotron, grinning, so she followed his gaze. Somehow, even though the picture was a live feed of what was happening directly in front of her, understanding didn’t dawn until she saw herself up there, twenty-five feet high.
Being proposed to.
Little animated hearts circled around their heads and text came zooming across the screen that said, “Jason + Julie.”
She looked back at Dax, whose attention was now on her. He was biting his lip as if trying to hold back laughter. She felt an answering giggle making its way up her throat.
Oh my God, Jason and Julie were going to be so pissed—if they were even still speaking to each other.
Dax clenched his jaw and cocked his head. The crowd went insane. She sneaked a peek at the Jumbotron, which was showing a close-up of him. Though it was quite clear to her that he was trying not to burst out laughing, she could see how it might look like he was nervous—he was pressing his lips together so hard they had practically disappeared. Or maybe he was playing the crowd, drawing it out for maximum theatrical effect. Either way, the twinkle in his eye was unmistakable—and infectious. Laughter threatened. Oh, boy, did it ever. She had no doubt that if she opened her mouth, a wild, crazed peal of laughter would ring out. So she bit the inside of her cheeks and buried her head in her hands. She could feel her shoulders shaking, and the screaming of the crowd ticked up a notch. No doubt they thought she was crying, overcome with emotion.
“You have twenty seconds, Mr. Jennings,” said the woman who seemed to be in charge. Still hiding her face, Amy took a couple deep breaths, trying to get control of herself.
“Amy.” That sobered her up pretty fast. His voice came from everywhere, booming across the stadium. She looked up. He was holding a microphone.
“I thought her name was Julie,” came an urgent whisper from Boss Girl.