Andrea looks down at Lance. His face is serious and gentle, and he’s holding a champagne colored diamond ring. The ring is a perfect match for the gifts he’s given her in the last five days. Her stomach twists with disgust but her heart gives her away, hammering hopefully in her chest.
“No, I can’t marry you,” Andrea says sadly. “I mean, I don’t want to marry you.”
“What if I stayed here on my knee until you agreed?” Lance asks. “I’ll wait as long as you waited for me last night. Longer even.”
“Lance Hamilton, I said I won’t marry you,” Andrea says.
Lance’s forehead creases and his lips press together into a thin line. He looks up at her in confusion and then his face twists with anger.
“Are you refusing me because of Andrew?” he asks.
“If I said yes, would you shoot him in the heart
