Free $10,000,000 Marriage Proposal by James Patterson

maybe I’ll find myself a guest at your wedding in the not-too-distant future.
    Yours,
    Miguel
    So that was that. Suze folded the letter and put it back into the envelope. She had been right after all. Miguel was Mr. Moneybags. He was the one she had liked best, and she had gambled on that, treating him like her date instead of an interviewer. Now she was left with the same questions she might have any time a guy didn’t call her for a second date. What had gone wrong? What had been missing? The letter offered no clues. Suddenly she realized something: this was the first time a guy hadn’t called her for a second date.
    She hated to lose, damnit. Suze took a sip of her coffee and let the feeling settle. She had wanted to get to know Miguel more than she cared to admit. It was over, no matter what she wanted. In a moment she found a small smile creeping across her face. He was so sure that she would find happiness, he almost had her convinced. Besides, it had been fun.
    Suze picked up her phone, thinking she’d text Janey and Caroline to see what they’d heard, but then thought better of it. Let them find out in their own time. She was out of this game.

Chapter 25
    Isabelle hadn’t been this excited since Caroline was a semifinalist in the Miss Teen Santa Monica Off-Season Fruit Pageant, a questionable concept and perhaps, therefore, the scene of Caroline’s all-time biggest pageant success.
    When Caroline came downstairs, breakfast was already on the table, a goat cheese and asparagus scramble (her favorite) and glazed doughnuts from the Mister Donut down the street—a much-fantasized-about but extremely rare indulgence. Isabelle’s daughters never had processed sugar if she had anything to do with it. Isabelle whistled cheerily as she set a pitcher of fresh-squeezed orange juice on the table. Yes, Isabelle was very happy.
    There was a knock at the door, and Caroline went to answer it. A messenger handed her an envelope. “From Mr. Nicholas,” he said, and went back to his car.
    Nicholas, Caroline processed. That was the name of her interviewer. But he was too humble to be a millionaire, wasn’t he? And probably too young. Neither Suze nor Janey had mentioned meeting a Nicholas. Was she the only one he’d taken the time to interview? Was that man, that Nicholas, her knight in shining armor? Or were the interviewers handling the communications?
    “Is that the electrician?” Isabelle screeched from the kitchen. “Tell him it’s the outdoor light near the garage. It’s been blinking ever since he quote-unquote fixed it, and I’m not paying him again.”
    “Mom,” Caroline tried to stop her. “It’s not—”
    “You hear me, Caroline?” Isabelle’s volume made Caroline wince.
    “Got it, Mom,” Caroline called back. She quickly hid the envelope in her robe and went into the bathroom, then sat down on the toilet lid to open the letter.
    Dear Caroline,
    What is the right thing to say here? I loved meeting you. Thank you for the time you spent on my “odd little experiment,” as you put it. I especially respect your concern about being with someone who is more settled in life than you are, although I think there are many different ways in which a person can be settled. To help people the way you do in your work shows a deep generosity; it shows how much you have thought about the meaning of life and how we can best spend our time.
    To be honest, I felt like the two of us had a chance. But in the clear light of day, I’m hesitant. I’m still not sure what I want. I realize how outrageous that must sound, given what I’ve put you through. I tend to make my mistakes on a grand scale. And it’s probably a mistake to let you go. But I don’t want to waste more of your time if I’m simply not ready. So I must take my leave now, hoping we can keep the door open and that at some point in the future you might not refuse my call.
    Yours,
    Nicholas
    Reading the letter, Caroline could hear the soft, calm voice