"You want to what?"
She's not asking for permission, obviously. Just running it by me and that much, I still recognize as a privilege because even as her publicist, it's really none of my business.
To be honest, I knew this day was coming for a long time. She had been ready once before, she'd confessed to me. More than once. It was what she wanted, always had and I know there had been a period where she had outright convinced herself and everyone around her that she didn't need any of the things she'd dreamed of for years.
The woman who sits before me, hands on both knees in the dressing room, calm and collected and so damn happy...she deserves this, all of it.
Still catches me slightly off guard.
The overhead light in the room shines on the hefty diamond that sits on her left hand and my breath catches a little.
This is her announcement to share. Not mine, not some shitty "news" outlet or insidious gossip page...hers.
"Tonight," she confirms. "I knew you were probably going to pass out."
"No, no," I recover (pretty well, I think), "I'm just---I know we spoke about the way you wanted to do this. This particular manner didn't happen to be on the list of options."
Taylor calls the shots, of course, but as I've reminded her on a few occasions, I'm paid to tell her all the things that could go wrong.
"People are going to find out, anyway. We thought about keeping it quiet, still, but it's been two months, Tree...I want to be able to wear this," she holds up her hand, "in public. And at least this way, we control the narrative."
She's got a fair point. Fair point aside, though, all hell is going to break loose. Taylor isn't a stupid person, not by any means. She isn't careless, either.
But when she's in love, deeply like she is, caution tends to go out the window.
Admittedly, when she and Travis came to me to tell me they were engaged a few months back, grinning like a pair of idiots, I wasn't taken aback. I'd known it was coming after they'd only been together a very short while. My instincts are excellent and being a mother myself, I could see Taylor was a goner. Both of them were, really.
I couldn't have been happier for them. Still am. Elated. I just thought we'd have a little more time to figure out any announcements.
"Before you talked about not telling anyone," I remind her gently. "Just going off and eloping after the season was over next spring or something. What's the big rush?"
The very instant the words are out of my mouth, I regret them. I can count the number of times on one hand where I've said something completely out of line. Normally, it isn't a problem...Taylor understands I'm coming from a well intentioned place...it's all to protect her career, her image. More importantly, she knows I care about her.
This time around, I can see I've hurt her. It wasn't my intention to suggest anything of the sort and immediately I shake my head, crossing the length of the dressing room to sit beside her on the sofa.
"Sweetie, I'm so sorry. That came out wrong. I didn't mean to---"
"You love me, Tree, I get it. And I pay you to do what's best for me. That's your entire position."
"That's not it. It's only a small component, Taylor," I smooth down my trousers, pulling myself together. "The scrutiny that'll come down once this is out in the open...the last thing I want is that to taint this for you. For either of you. You're so happy and that's how it should stay. I know you're very much skilled at blocking out the noise, but you shouldn't have to, not with something as important as this."
