Chapter Text
“Babe, did you pack the toothbrushes?” Beca asked, the idea suddenly shooting through her head.
“Yes, Becs, I did,” Chloe replied indulgently, eyes focused on the road as they made their way to the airport. “Stop worrying so much. This isn’t the first time I packed bags for a vacation, I know what I’m doing, okay? And besides, they have shops in Italy, too. There isn’t anything so important or unique that we can’t buy it there if we’ve forgotten something.”
Beca’s thoughts quickly snapped to the ring, hidden in the pair of socks at the bottom of her bag. “You’re right, of course,” Beca breathed, trying to calm herself. “It’s just… I’ve never actually taken trips abroad since I had Rose, so I’m-”
“A nervous wreck? Hadn’t noticed,” Chloe grinned.
Beca was trying to come up with a witty response, but lost her concentration when her phone began to ring. “Mind if I take this on speaker? It’s Stace?”
“Go ahead,” Chloe smiled, changing lanes.
“Hey Stace, what’s up?”
“Hey boss,” Stacie’s tinny voice sounded in the car. “You probably forgot because you were too busy planning your super-sudden and really inconvenient vacation-”
“I’m not going to apologize for that again,” Beca countered good-naturedly. She knew Stacie was just laying it on thick - after all, it had been her own idea, more or less.
“Whatever, it’s not the worst you’ve inflicted on your poor manager,” Stacie sighed theatrically. “As I was saying, you probably forgot, but today was the court hearing regarding Gail Abernathy’s desperate attempt to force you to reveal your identity.”
“Okay,” Beca drawled. “You told me not to worry about it.”
“And obviously, I was right,” Stacie told her, a smirk practically audible in her voice. “The judge dismissed all of her attempts and I don’t think he found it amusing.”
“Okay, so it’s done, then?”
“She… didn’t seem intent on giving up. I don’t think she’ll appeal the judge’s decision, but you never know. I’m not sure she’s ever going to let this go, Beca.”
Beca pinched the bridge of her nose, a myriad of ideas running through her mind. “Just leave it be for now, Stacie. I’ll… I’ll think of something, but I’m sure it can wait a few weeks. You know, until I’m actually state-side again.”
“Fair enough, boss,” Stacie agreed. “In that case, I just want to tell you two lovebirds to have fun. Jesse and Benji say ‘hi’ and Emily wants you to bring back souvenirs.”
“Of course she does,” Beca drawled. “We’ll see. If something really, really important comes up, you can call me, but I won’t be checking my mail or socials during my vacation.”
“That’s what we are for,” Stacie assured her. “You just go and enjoy a well-deserved break. Be sure to treat your ladies well, and all that.”
“Oh, I plan to,” Beca grinned, ending the call just as Chloe turned onto the airport’s parking lot.
“So,” Chloe asked as they made their way into the main building. “Is this going to be your first time flying commercial?”
“Of course not,” Beca grunted with a roll of her eyes. “I don’t actually use the company jet that much. And we got the best tickets available, so we’ll be just as comfortable as when we’d be flying privately.”
“Yeah, but now we can’t get naughty up in the air,” Chloe winked, making Beca’s step falter.
“Dude, you can’t go saying stuff like that to me.”
“Why not?” Chloe asked innocently. “Rose doesn’t have any idea what we’re talking about.”
“Nope!” Rose chirped in agreement.
“I’m not going to get this out of my head anymore,” Beca groaned.
“Good,” Chloe grinned devilishly.
--
“Oh my God I just want to lay down and sleep,” Chloe groaned as they walked out of the Aeroporto di Venezia , shielding their eyes from the glaring sun, hanging low in the sky.
“Me too!” Rose sighed theatrically, reminding Beca a lot of herself.
“Well, get your butts in that care over there,” Beca smiled tiredly, gesturing to a black town car with a driver holding up a sign saying ‘Mitchell.’
She greeted the driver and confirmed their destination, before ducking into the car after Rose and Chloe. She wasn’t at all surprised that Rose was already stretched out across the backseat, eyes drooping to a close.
Chloe shot her a tired smile, fingers scratching at Rose’s scalp in a way they both knew Rose loved. With some maneuvering, Beca managed to settle next to her, resting her head on Chloe’s shoulder.
“So, we’re staying at a house outside of Venice?” Chloe asked, even though Beca had explained all of this.
“That’s right,” she nodded patiently. “It’ll be about fifteen minutes to the city itself, but it was impossible to find decent lodgings in the city.”
“Only because you insist a hotel isn’t a decent form of lodging.”
“I just don’t like the idea of staying in one building with a hundred strangers. Sue me.”
“You’re weird,” Chloe chuckled. They lapsed into silence, staring out the window as their car sped down the roads. It wasn’t long until they got a clear view of the Adriatic Sea, azure blue and glittering in the sunlight. “Wow,” Chloe breathed, nose practically pressed to the window. “Look at it, Beca! It’s amazing!”
They both admired the view, until their car took a turn away from the shoreline, driving them further inland. Before long, they veered off the main roads and unto smaller ones, leading them up a steep hill.
Eventually, the car turned into a small path, not even a proper road. Had Beca not scouted the area beforehand, she’d have been worried about being murdered into the woods. But, before long, they crested the hill, coming to a stop near a small but well-maintained cottage.
“Siamo arrivati, signorina,” their driver smiled kindly, getting out of the car and helping them unload the stuff. “Fai una buona vacanza!”
“Grazie mille,” Beca smiled as she shook his hand, waving as he got in the car and drove off.
“You speak Italian?” Chloe asked her, incredulous, while Rose merely rubbed her eyes.
“Only the very basics,” Beca grinned. “I don’t want to have to pull out Google Translate every five minutes. Come on, this way,” she gestured, leading them both around the cottage. As soon as they rounded the building, they had a beautiful view of Venice down below, and the sea behind it, now orange in the setting sun.
“It’s pretty!” Rose chirped, pointing at the sea. “Can we go to the beach?”
“I don’t know, kiddo. We’ll have to look into that,” Beca smiled, ruffling Rose’s hair. “Let’s get inside first and unpack our stuff, alright?”
Heading inside, they found the cottage to be small, but equipped with every luxury they could need during their stay here. Chloe instantly fell in love with the sitting room, with floor-to-ceiling windows looking out over Venice and the Adriatic Sea, and Rose seemed to have entirely forgotten how tired she was, moving from room to room in her enthusiasm to scout the place out.
“We should try to stay up for at least a few more hours,” Beca yawned as they had packed everything away. “It’ll help with the jetlag if we settle into a normal rhythm straight away.”
“I’ll see if we can’t whip up some dinner,” Chloe nodded. “Rose, feel like helping out?”
“Coming, mommy!” Rose yelled for a distant room.
“The kitchen should be fully stocked,” Beca told her. “If it’s not, we’ll demand a refund.”
“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” Chloe grinned, getting to her feet and meeting Rose in the kitchen. “Try not to fall asleep while we’re working on dinner!”
“No promises!” Beca grinned in return, taking out her phone as soon as Chloe had turned her back. Logging on to the cottage’s wi-fi, she went to Google, idly typing in Gail Abernathy to see what would show up.
“Always a good idea to see who you’re dealing with,” she muttered under her breath. The first few results were links to Abernathy’s blogs, of course, followed by a few official websites that credited Abernathy for some of her writing.
Things got more interesting as Beca continued scrolling, though, eventually stumbling on an image of Abernathy with a boy that looked a lot like her - probably around Rose’s age. “Now this is interesting,” she murmured.
“Who are you talking to?” Chloe asked, head poking around the doorframe.
“Myself, of course,” Beca smiled, rubbing her forehead. “Just looking into something.”
“Alright,” Chloe shrugged. “The kitchen’s stocked, so you don’t need to go demanding that refund, just so you know. We’re having pasta.”
“How very Italian of us,” Beca chuckled, Chloe following suit until there was a loud clunking coming from the kitchen, followed by Rose loudly yelling it wasn’t her fault. “No harm, no foul,” Chloe grinned, ducking back into the kitchen.
Beca focused back on her phone, narrowing her search terms and confirming that Gail Abernathy did indeed have a son, only a year older than Rose. Pursing her lips, Beca briefly considered the idea forming in her head.
Deciding that it was worth the risk, Beca chose Jesse’s number from her contact list and pressed dial, belatedly worrying about the time difference.
“Beca, hey,” Jesse accepted her call.
“Hey, Jesse. I’m guessing I woke you up?”
“That’s not… it’s mid-day here, Beca,” Jesse replied dryly. “What can I do for you? Aren’t you supposed to be vacationing?”
“Yeah, I just need one little favor from you and then I’ll stop worrying about work until we’re back.”
“Alright, fire away.”
“I need you to get me Abernathy’s number.”
“Uh… why?”
“So I can call her.”
“Uh… why?” Jesse repeated.
“I have a plan,” Beca told him. “That’s… really all you need to know. Just get me the number and text it to me?”
“This doesn’t sound like a good idea,” Jesse hedged. “I’m pretty sure Stacie wouldn’t sign off on this.”
“Which is why we’re not telling her,” Beca nodded. “Please?”
“Well, okay,” Jesse sighed. “Just… promise me you know what you’re doing?”
“I promise I know what I’m doing, Jesse,” Beca intoned gravely.
Her phone signalled an incoming message, and Beca quickly checked it. “Sweet, you’re the best Jesse. Thanks.”
“You’re welcome, I guess?” Jesse sighed. “Enjoy your vacation?”
“We will,” Beca smiled before ending the call and getting to her feet. “Chlo?” she started as she turned into the kitchen, finding her girls at the counter, stirring in two large pots. “That smells great.”
“Thanks, momma!” Rose grinned.
“Quick work-related thing,” Beca winced, holding up her hands as Chloe shot her an exasperated look. “I know, I know. It’s only this once, though, I promise. Um, I’m going to call Abernathy, and try to reason with her,” she rushed out.
“You think that’s wise?” Chloe asked, lips pursed in thought. “She doesn’t strike me as the reasonable type.”
“She has a son,” Beca revealed. “Rose’s age, more or less. I think she might actually understand my reasoning to her, if I explain why I don’t want my face out there.”
“And you’re telling me because-”
“Because it’s your life too. I’m planning to tell an avid blogger that DJ BM has a daughter, and that daughter is yours, too. So if you tell me not to do it, I won’t. But I think it’s a good idea.”
Chloe’s face turned pensive for a moment as she stared into the pot. “Well, the risks are fairly minimal, I’d think. Provided you don’t tell her anything like Rose’s name or where she goes to school or whatever.”
“Do you think I am an idiot?” Beca drawled.
“Want me to answer that honestly?” Chloe grinned sweetly.
“No, that’s okay,” Beca shook her head. “So, you approve?”
“Yes,” Chloe nodded. “Mother to mother might be the best way to approach her.”
“I’ll make the call, then. No use putting it off, right?”
“Right,” Chloe agreed. “Take it outside, though? I don’t really want to listen to it, and Rose will definitely chatter right through it.”
“Good point,” Beca agreed.
Moving outside and settling in one of the lounge chairs, Beca took a moment to look down at Venice below her before taking her phone to hand and dialing the number Jesse had sent her.
“Abernathy,” came the curt voice from her phone.
“Hello, Gail,” Beca responded, debating with herself what tone would be best for this phone call.
“Sorry, who is this?”
“You don’t recognize my voice?” Beca asked, not having expected a need to introduce herself.
“DJ BM,” Gail sighed in what almost sounded like resignation. “I’m guessing this is the part where you come with an offer I cannot refuse? A big pay-out in exchange for my resignation, is that it?”
Beca chuckled lowly. “No, that’s not it, Gail. I’m calling you to… I wanted to ask you to stop digging into my identity. And I figured I owed you, at the very least, the courtesy of asking it myself, instead of having my manager do it for me.”
“How nice of you,” the reporter snorted. “What makes you think it will make a difference.”
Taking a deep breath, Beca decided to dive in head-first. “Gail, I have a daughter,” she confessed. “A little girl, barely four. She’s the reason I want to protect my privacy.”
“I didn’t know,” Gail stammered, apparently thrown by Beca’s revelation.
“You couldn’t have, that’s the whole point,” Beca answered. “But if my identity gets out, I’ll have reporters and camera men camping out in my front yard day and night. My daughter is too young to understand that madness, and I don’t want her to grow up like that. As long as I wear the masks, I can give her a normal childhood, without all the drama and attention.”
Gail Abernathy remained quiet on the other end of the line, but Beca knew the woman was still listening. Figuring she was going all-in anyway, she pulled her last card. “You have a son, right? How would you feel if people were waiting for him outside his school, firing questions about the most ridiculous things at him as he came walking out? How would you feel if his face was on the front page of every tabloid, just because he happened to be walking next to you?”
Abernathy’s silence endured, but this time Beca just waited, hoping her words were hitting home, and wanting to give her opponent some time to really let it sink in. Her heart jumped when she eventually heard a deep sigh.
“I… see your point, BM,” Gail spoke slowly. “I guess I can lay off you, at least a little. I admit I may have gone a little… crazy. Especially as of late.”
“I’m glad you’re able to see things from my point of view,” Beca sighed in relief. “Who knows, when the time comes to reveal my face, I might just give you an exclusive.”
“I’m holding you to that,” Abernathy snorted. “Until then, I’d appreciate any breadcrumbs you can throw me to build up my readership again. I mean, my subscriptions pretty much evaporated after your last show.”
“Deservedly so,” Beca responded pointedly. “But I’ll tell you what: once I have a new show planned, I’ll leak you the details before we make them public. How’s that?”
“That’d be grand. Thanks, BM. And um, I’m sorry for all the craziness I must’ve caused for you. If I’d known…”
“It’s fine,” Beca told her. “I need to go now, but it was… this has been a good talk.”
“Right, yeah, of course. You must be super busy.”
“If only you’d know,” Beca grinned, ending the call and taking a moment to take a few deep breaths.
“How’d it go?” Chloe asked from the doorway, startling her.
“Well enough,” Beca smiled, suddenly exhausted. “She has more or less promised to leave us be.”
“That’s good,” Chloe smiled. “Come on, dinner’s ready. Rose is done waiting for you.”
--
Turning over a New Leaf
Hey everyone! I feel kind of stupid writing this, not knowing whether anyone is actually still reading my blog posts. Still, as the title already said: this is me, turning over a new leaf.
I’ve been chasing DJ BM’s secret identity for a long time now, and it hasn’t gotten me anywhere. Not only do I not know who she is, but I’ve lost most - if not all - of my readers in the process. And I didn’t even notice until it was too late.
I’ve been a fan of DJ BM since she started out, but I haven’t acted like one lately, have I?
Well, I had the honor of actually talking to her - on the phone, duh - and she explained to me why it is imperative to keep her identity a secret. For sales? Maybe. Because the CIA is targeting her? Possibly, but I’m not allowed to say. To torment us loyal fans? Well, apparently not…
So yeah, I’m dropping my investigation, and will go back to just reporting the news as it comes.
Does this mean y’all come back and read my blog again?
Please?
This is Gail Abernathy, people, all-new, back-to-basics
Smiling to herself, Beca handed Chloe her phone back. “Guess it all worked out, then,” she nodded, eyes focused on the many twinkling lights at the bottom of the hill. The sun had set some time ago, and with Rose peacefully asleep in her bed, Beca and Chloe had made themselves comfortable on the lounge chairs, huddled under two blankets. “Now I just wait for Stacie to call me,” Beca groaned.
Instantly, her phone began buzzing with an incoming call, which Beca accepted.
“You called her?! Are you completely out of your mind, Beca?” Stacie immediately snapped.
“Calm down, Stace,” Beca responded placatingly. “Yes, I called her. And, as you see, everything worked out fine.”
“She could have traced your call!”
“Dude, she’s a blogger, not the NSA,” Beca chuckled. “Don’t be such a drama queen.”
“You should have told me,” Stacie huffed.
“Perhaps, but I knew how you’d respond… So I didn’t.”
“Yeah, I noticed,” Stacie drawled, followed by a weary sigh. “Well, what’s done is done. Just… let me know next time, yeah? I’d rather have heard it from you than from Abernathy’s blog.”
“That’s fair,” Beca conceded. “Now, are we good?”
“Yeah, yeah. You just enjoy your vacation. I’ll be here putting out the fires.”
“There’s no fires to put out, but have fun anyway,” Beca grinned, ending the call. “So, with that done, our vacation can officially begin.”
--
Beca sighed happily as the sun beamed down on them. She watched mirthfully as Rose devoured her ice cream, smearing about half of it across her face in her enthusiasm, much to the amusement of the patrons around them.
It was their fourth day in Italy, and they had finally gotten around to actually visiting Venice itself - the first day, they had spent cooped up in the cottage. Jetlag had been a bitch, especially for Rose, who couldn’t seem to get her internal clock right again and had been a whiny mess for most of the day.
The day after, she had felt much better, and insisted they visit a beach. Beca drove them out to the nearest beach, where they spent hours strolling and playing in the sand. Chloe had even braved the waters of the Adriatic with Rose, making sure not to go too far into the waters, keeping Rose safe.
As soon as they had made it into Venice earlier today, Rose had declared they needed ice cream, because it was sunny and hot, and she felt like it. Figuring they had all day, Beca had allowed Rose to point out a typical tourist-trap ice cream shop, ordering for the three of them.
And now she found herself watching Chloe as she attempted to make Rose presentable again, going through half a pack of wet wipes, by the looks of it.
“There you go, sweetie. All clean,” she smiled when the job was done.
“Thanks!” Rose chirped happily. “Let’s go!”
“Go where?” Chloe asked amusedly.
“I don’t know!” Rose answered, nonplussed. “Momma knows!”
“Alright then,” Beca grinned, getting to her feet. “Let’s go see some sights, then. Rose, remember to hold our hands, okay?”
“Yes momma!” Rose nodded earnestly, reaching for Chloe’s hand.
Beca reached for her other hand, after which she led them down the road, having downloaded a navigation app for her phone and - presumably - knowing the way. Time seemed to fly past as they visited the Rialto Bridge and Saint Mark’s Basilica.
Surprisingly, Rose seemed to enjoy the tour far more than Beca had anticipated. She’d figured Rose would get bored looking at old buildings, but the little girl had fun admiring the murals, chasing pigeons and asking a ton of questions - most of which Beca couldn’t answer honestly, because she didn’t have the necessary in-depth knowledge of the city.
Chloe, unsurprisingly, had done her homework and managed to answer most of Rose’s questions.
Rose particularly enjoyed the gondola ride through the canals of Venice, asking more questions than Beca herself could have thought up, showcasing her natural curiosity. Their gondolier spoke nearly-perfect English, displaying great patience and amusement with Rose, trying to answer all of her questions to the best of his ability.
“And this, ladies, is the Palazzo Ducale,” he smiled eventually, steering their gondola to the pier. “Where, I believe, you wanted to end your tour.”
“That’s right,” Beca nodded. “Thank you, you’ve been amazing.”
“My pleasure, madonna,” he smiled, helping them off the boat and onto the pier. “Arriverderci!”
Beca waved the gondolier goodbye, attention already turning towards the square behind them and the palace on the other end. The square was, predictably, teeming with tourists, snapping pictures left and right.
Fiddling with the ring in her pocket, Beca figured the flight-of-fancy of proposing to Chloe somewhere in the city was turning out to be a horrible idea. The last thing she wanted was dozens - hundreds! - of people looking at her when she finally gathered up the courage.
Not to mention the mortification if Chloe would… no, she shouldn’t think about that.
“I don’t know, babe, the line is pretty darn long,” Chloe wavered, motioning over towards the throngs of people waiting for admission into the Palazzo Ducale.
“Chlo, honestly, did no one ever tell you money opens doors?” Beca smiled. “We can skip the line.”
“Of course we can,” Chloe shook her head good-naturedly. “Come on, sweetie, let’s get going.”
Beca was tugged into motion as Chloe and Rose both set off. “You coming, Becs?” Chloe asked, brows furrowing in mild confusion.
“Yeah, sorry,” Beca shook her head. “Just daydreaming or whatever.”
--
The tour of the palazzo took longer than Beca had anticipated, but it had been interesting and informative, and there had been enough murals and paintings to keep Rose entertained, so all in all it was a success, she thought to herself.
Peering at her phone, Beca began leading them to their next destination - an actual ship that had been turned into a restaurant. Her mother had recommended it to her, extolling it’s romantic candle-lit dinner with a view of both the sea and Venice’s typical architecture.
It took them a little while to find it - by then the sun had begun to set - but the looks on their faces made the search worth it for Beca. “We can eat there?!” Rose yelped. “Like pirates!”
“Yes, kiddo. Just like pirates,” Beca chuckled, leading them to the entrance. “Mitchell, party of three?”
“Of course, right this way,” the hostess smiled politely, leading them into the ship’s interior, and then up a stairs to end up on the deck, a secluded table for three set out. Beca didn’t like admitting it, but her mother had been right about this place.
“This is amazing, Beca,” Chloe breathed reverently, looking out over the bay. “How did you find this place?”
“Eh, we have my mom to thank for that,” she admitted with a shrug.
They perused the menu for a while, Beca’s finger anxiously fiddling with the ring in her pocket, practically searing through the fabric by now. “I think we should just get Rose the Kid’s Pirate meal, huh?” she wondered out loud.
“Yes, momma!” Rose nodded vigorously.
“I guess I’ll go for the fish of the day,” Chloe nodded decidedly. “What about you, Becs?”
“I’m thinking…” Beca hummed, focusing on the menu again. “Uh, chicken pancetta?”
“Was that a question or a statement?” Chloe chuckled.
“Statement,” Beca nodded, just as their waiter arrived. Chloe placed their orders - and Beca was grateful, because she’d already forgotten what she had decided on.
While waiting for their food to arrive, Beca remained mostly quiet, content to listen to Chloe and Rose while the latter chattered on about all of her favorite things they’d seen and done today, Chloe filling in the gaps and asking exactly enough questions to keep Rose talking.
“This has been really nice so far,” Chloe smiled as soon as their food was in front of them. “Taking a vacation was a great idea.”
“It was,” Beca nodded. “If only I could claim it as one of my own, huh?”
Chloe shrugged easily. “Hardly matters where the idea came from. I mean, we’re in Venice, just the three of us, no college, no work, no school or other duties to keep in mind. I’d say things are just about perfect, right?”
“Right,” Beca smiled in agreement, thanking their waiter as he lit the candles on their table, the sun now dipping beneath the horizon.
Beca smiled to herself as she heard Chloe’s gasp. Taking her attention from Rose’s fishsticks to look out at the bay, she saw the stars reflecting in the waters of the bay, the moon casting a serene light over the entire scene.
“It’s beautiful,” Chloe breathed, food all but forgotten.
Figuring it was now or never, Beca pushed to her feet, hand already in her pocket to dig the ring out. “Chloe, I-”
“Whoo! Look at this place, man!” a voice cut right through her well-prepared speech. She turned her head, watching three young men storming onto the deck, pointing at the bay. “Isn’t it wicked!” another practically shouted, before being ushered away by someone from the restaurant’s staff.
“Becs? You were saying?” Chloe smiled up at her, biting her lip with a gentle smile.
“Huh? Oh, I… Um… bathroom?”
Chloe sighed quietly, pointing to the staircase. “Down the stairs, on your left. We passed it on the way up here.”
“Right,” Beca nodded dumbly, taking a few seconds to spur her feet into moving, cursing herself all the way to the bathroom and back.
--
“Sleeping soundly,” Chloe confirmed as she stepped outside again, settling on the lounge chair next to Beca. “Took her long enough, though.”
“Hm, lots of impressions and new experiences today,” Beca shrugged. “It was a toss-up. Either she’d fall asleep in an instant, or she’d be too hyped. Turns out it was the latter, I guess.”
“Hm, I guess,” Chloe smiled, taking a sip from her wine.
From the corner of her eye, Beca noticed Chloe looking at her. Turning her head to face her, she found Chloe looking at her with a single eyebrow raised. Deciding to ignore the obvious question in her expression, she reached for her wine, taking a larger gulp than she had intended. When she looked back, Chloe hadn’t moved.
“Becs, are you going to tell me what’s eating you?” she asked, voice a mix between amusement and exasperation.
“What makes you think-”
“Let me stop you right there, babe,” Chloe grinned. “I live with a toddler-version of you. I know what you look like when you’re hiding something, because you look exactly like Rose when she’s stolen cookies from the jar.”
“That’s… cheating,” Beca pouted.
“Perhaps,” Chloe shrugged. “Doesn’t mean I’m not right, though.”
“I… I can’t, Chlo…” Beca stammered, looking for a way out. “This isn’t… It’s not supposed to be like this.”
Chloe bit her lip, keeping quiet for a moment before tentatively opening her mouth. It took a few seconds before she ended up saying anything. “Beca, whatever it is, I love you. Sometimes things… aren’t the way they’re supposed to… But that doesn’t make them less perfect.”
Taking Chloe’s words to heart, Beca got up from her lounge chair and rounded it, stopping next to Chloe, hand fiddling around in her pocket. Before she could second-guess herself again, she dropped down to her knee, taking the ring and holding it out for Chloe.
“Chloe Beale, will you marry me?”
“Of course I will,” Chloe nodded, beaming even in the darkness, and extending her hand so Beca could slide the ring around her finger. “It’s gorgeous,” she smiled.
“I’m sorry this wasn’t very romantic,” Beca apologized, scrunching her nose as Chloe pulled her onto the lounge chair and under the blanket. “I wanted to do it in Venice, but there were so many people everywhere… And then at the restaurant, but those guys-”
“I know, babe,” Chloe cooed, pressing a kiss to her temple. “But I wouldn’t have wanted it any other way, Beca. I don’t need grand displays of love and devotion. Why would I when I have you and Rose, and our own little home? That is what it is all about for me.”
Beca let her breath flow free, resting her head on Chloe’s shoulder. It wasn’t until half an hour later when an errant thought suddenly shot through her head. “You totally knew what I was planning, didn’t you?”
“Yeah,” Chloe smiled apologetically. “Have for a while now.”
“I’m going to kill Emily,” Beca grunted, trying to sit upright but falling back into Chloe’s warmth when her fiance pulled on her elbow.
“Hey!” she laughed. “I never said Emily told me!”
“Are you saying it wasn’t Emily?” Beca asked skeptically.
“No,” Chloe guffawed. “It totally was Emily. She couldn’t keep a secret if her life depended on it.”
“I’m going to kill her.”
“No you’re not.”
“No,” Beca admitted with a faint smile. “I’m not.”
“Good, because I’m not having my wedding in prison.”