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CHARLOTTE, WILL YOU MARRY ME?
Charlotte Tam stared at the words on the scoreboard and felt a prickle of anxiety.
But there were thousands of people in the Rogers Centre, and that message was likely for another Charlotte.
Yes, Brad Tomson talked loudly, stole the blankets, and told her to smile more, but she loved him. Her boyfriend would never do anything as stupid as a scoreboard proposal at a baseball game.
Right?
Such a proposal was, quite literally, the stuff of her nightmares.
She’d first seen a scoreboard proposal on TV when she was six. She’d been a Toronto Blue Jays fan for as long as she could remember, thanks to her father, and she’d been watching the game with him, her little sister, and her friend Mike. Her father had explained what was happening, and she’d been horrified. To have so many people watching while you kissed someone? She didn’t even like when people sang “Happy Birthday” to her. More than anything, though, that proposal had made her think of show-and-tell, which she hated doing at school.
Charlotte might have forgotten about the proposal, but that night, for some reason, she’d had a nightmare about it, and she’d had many similar nightmares since then. Other people might dream of showing up at school in their underwear, but Charlotte’s subconscious came up with variations on a public proposal at a ballgame. In one version of this dream, a cartoon prince rode up on a white horse, in front of tens of thousands of people, and she was clad in only a seashell bra, and everyone was laughing at her when her name flashed on the screen. In another version, the proposal was followed by a vicious monster attack.
Why did she keep dreaming about this? She had no idea—her brain worked in strange ways at times—but it meant she’d thought quite a bit about these types of proposals. They were the last thing she wanted.
Hopefully this mysterious person named Charlotte felt differently—
Oh, God.
Brad was getting down on one knee. He’d spilled beer on the floor in the third inning, so it must be sticky.
And, yep, he was holding a ring box in her direction.
She went hot and cold at the same time, and her heart started beating far too fast. She wiped a hand over her sweaty brow, feeling more horrified than she’d ever been in her life. Seriously, this was the worst.
She was the Charlotte on the scoreboard after all.
It wasn’t as weird as any of her dreams, but it was equally bad, despite the lack of seashell bra and scary monsters. In fact, being eaten by a monster might be a blessing right now. It would put an end to this humiliation.
“Say yes!” someone shouted from behind her.
“He hasn’t even popped the question yet, you idiot,” someone else said.
“But it’s already on the screen.”
Brad looked up at her with a stupid cocky smile.
“Will you marry me?” he asked.
Time seemed to slow, which was awful, since everyone was staring at her and awaiting her response. They wanted Charlotte to say yes and throw her arms around Brad and kiss him—a kiss that would be shown on the large screen in the stadium and probably on TV.
Charlotte and Brad had never talked about marriage, but they’d been together for three years, and she’d thought he was the guy she’d marry. It seemed sensible, even if he had lots of habits that got on her nerves.
But now, she didn’t want to say yes.
Because she realized Brad didn’t know her, not even a little.
God, how could she have dated him for three years and missed something so obvious?
There had been signs. She could see them now. He’d tried to take her dancing at a club more than once, but she hated the press of bodies, the loud music, and—worst of all—the actual dancing. He’d also planned a cottage getaway with not one, not two, but three other couples she didn’t know. Not her idea of a good time. Despite her irritation, she’d brushed those things off, told herself they were no big deal.
She’d been pleased when he’d mentioned he had tickets to this game. She liked the Jays. Wasn’t it thoughtful of him?
Ha. She didn’t think that anymore.
This took the cake. Because anyone who knew Charlotte Tam would realize that she would not want a public proposal at a ballgame, even if they didn’t know about her ridiculous dreams.
And Brad did know. One time when they were tipsy, she’d told him about her recurring nightmares and said she hated the idea of such proposals. Apparently, he hadn’t thought she was serious. He must have assumed that since she liked baseball, this was the perfect place to propose.
In an instant, all the affection she’d ever had for him evaporated.
“Charlotte,” Brad hissed. “Say yes.”
She hated him for putting her in this position. If you were going to do a spectacle like proposing at a ballgame, wouldn’t it make sense to talk about it with your partner first?
Brad would claim that would have ruined the surprise.
Well, some surprises were fucking terrible.
Everyone was looking at her, either in person or on the screen. Expecting her to say something she’d just realized she could not do.
Charlotte wasn’t the sort of person who’d say yes because it was easier.
“Don’t break his heart!” someone shouted.
She felt a stab of guilt, but she quickly pushed that aside.
Brad had done something idiotic, and she refused to feel guilty.
She tried to speak, but no words came out. Instead, she just shook her head.
And then she bolted.
She stepped on two people’s feet—she would have said sorry, but her voice still wasn’t working—then hurried up the stairs and out the nearest exit.
People were shouting at her, but she didn’t care.
Brad was probably mortified. Not her problem. She’d thought she loved him, and now all she felt was anger.
How dare he make her nightmare come true.
Charlotte exited the stadium. She kept running, not paying attention to where she was going, just needing to escape, to put as much distance between her and Brad as possible.
There’d been two innings left, and she’d miss them. Goddamn him for ruining the game. The Jays had been losing, but still.
She found herself running west on Queen Street. Why? Where was she going?
Then she remembered. Her friends from university had decided to try a new cider bar on Ossington tonight.
By the time she got to Ossington Cider Bar, which had to be at least three kilometers from the stadium, she was out of breath. She stepped inside and bent over. She must look like a mess in her John Olerud jersey and Blue Jays cap, her hair slicked with sweat.
“Charlotte?” Nicole crouched in front of her, concern on her face. “What happened?”
“Brad proposed.”
“I thought you were at a Jays game?”
“He proposed at the Jays game. It was on the big screen and everything.”
“Oh, no,” Nicole whispered.
Sierra and Rose joined them.
“That asshole,” Sierra said when she heard the story.
“Come on,” Nicole said, taking one of Charlotte’s arms. Rose took the other. “We’re going to get you some booze and maybe some dessert. I bet they have something with coffee.”
Her friends understood her a million times better than Brad did, that was clear. And he’d been an improvement over her first two boyfriends, who hadn’t lasted long.
What was the point of dating when it was just going to end in a nightmare?
As the first sip of cider crossed her lips, Charlotte Tam, who’d secretly dreamed of a small, romantic wedding ever since she was a little girl, swore off dating.