One Hundred Proposals Read Online Free PDF Page A

a place called Bubblegum Alley in California, and a Chewing Gum Wall in Seattle, where millions of pieces of gum have been stuck on the walls. It’s so bright and colourful that what started as something gross has now been declared an official tourist attraction. People travel from miles around to see it and to add their own gum to it. Some have even created little works of art amongst the thousands of globules.’
    He stood back a bit and pointed to the wall. There in a heart made from pink chewing gum were the words ‘Annie, marry me,’ also made from chewing gum.
    ‘Love can be found in the most unlikely of places, you just have to look for it.’
    He stared down at me and for a moment I wasn’t sure if he was talking about him, or about me and him.
    ‘It doesn’t need to be about romance, just little heartfelt gestures.’
    I smiled. ‘I wonder if she said yes.’
    Harry pointed to the green letters written in globules of chewing gum underneath the heart. In big proud letters, the word ‘Yes’, stood out.
    ‘I like it.’ I grabbed my phone from my pocket and took a few shots. I had to put this on the website.
    ‘I knew you would.’
    ‘You see, I don’t need big gestures, so whatever you have planned for our next proposal, it doesn’t need to be a big yacht or a trip to the moon.’
    He walked away, heading towards the sunlight that was piercing our gloom.
    ‘I’ll cancel the space rocket then.’
    ‘Harry, I’m serious. Don’t waste your money on me.’
    He ignored me as we stepped out into the sunlight. He was incredibly generous with his money and he had a lot of it. He didn’t get a very good salary from me but he didn’t really need it. Years before, whilst travelling around America, he’d had the foresight to invest in a tiny little up-and-coming online social media site called Connected. He’d given a thousand dollars at the time, money he had won at a casino, and years later, when Connected had been the biggest social media site in America and probably the world, he had sold his shares for a huge sum. He’d never told me how much he got from that little endeavour. But it was enough that he could afford the huge house on the other side of the green from me, bought when the property prices had plummeted. And he always seemed to have enough money for little gifts and meals out.
    ‘Spending money on you is never a waste. And we’re running late now so we’re going to have to run.’
    He grabbed my hand and started jogging through the streets, winding his way expertly through the other people.
    ‘We could catch the tube,’ I whined, as I tried to keep up with his long-legged pace.
    ‘Running’s much more fun,’ Harry said, without breaking his stride.
    *
    The Glade at Sketch was like nothing I’d ever seen before. With its white bricked front, Sketch looked like a simple townhouse – and we’d actually walked past the place before we’d realised it was there. But down the darkened staircase and to the left, a tranquil wooded glade had been transported from some fairy tale forest to this seemingly unassuming restaurant in central London. Trees covered every wall and surface, the leaves of which were painted in every shade of green and gold imaginable. A huge chandelier dominated the ceiling, casting delicate lights over every surface from its tangle of branches. Tiny gold fireflies danced around the walls and floor. Mirrored panels near the roof moved slowly, catching the light from the huge sun roof above us and sending its rays across the room as if the sun was moving through the trees. Wicker chairs, tables and sofas with huge green embroidered cushions were placed casually throughout the room as if they were garden furniture and we were all just simply sitting out in the garden somewhere, enjoying the sun.
    ‘Harry Forbes, we have a reservation for afternoon tea.’ Harry said to the beautiful waitress who looked like a woodland nymph with the plaits and twists in her hair, and