"Grace, there's something I've been wanting to say to you . ."
Grace sat back in her chair, leaning visibly away from the table,
"What is it,?" she whispered, more nervous than ever, thinking that she was about to lose her job for improper conduct or some other dreadful thing.
"Well, I . . .uh . . ." he faltered and paused to take a deep breath. Looking at Grace in all of her serene, beautiful glory, he chuckled, allowed his shoulders to drop and stood from his seat, strolled around to where she was nervously perched and took one delicate hand in his own, leaning against the table.
Grace could feel her hand trembling as Oliver cradled it in his own, stronger ones, and rested the three against his thigh. Trying not to think anything further about his thigh, or his hands, she focussed on his eyes. Oh God, those eyes!! If only I was blind, maybe I'd be able to concentrate on what he's saying!
"The thing is Grace," his deep voice shattered her reverie and brought her attention to his mouth.
'Oh great!' she thought, 'now I'm staring at his lips!'
"The thing is, well, for quite sometime now, I've considered you to be much more than just a secretary. No, actually, I don't think you've ever been just a secretary, but, well, recently I've, well Hell, it's not even recently, it's been quite a while really-" seeing the befuddled look on the face of the woman before him, Oliver realised he was rambling, and took one, final, long breath.
"Grace, I'm utterly in love with you. I have been since we met, but I guess it took Annie coming into our lives and showing me what love can mean to a person who has never had any. I know that your life wasn't easy before you came here, and I remember how hard it was for you to trust everyone when you first started working for me, but I'm asking you to trust me now when I say I love you and I hope you feel the same." He finished with a charming smile, and Grace thought that she would faint from the intense mixture of feelings which she was experiencing.
Instead, she cried. Wept, in fact.
"Not quite the reaction I'd hoped for,"
Warbucks thought to himself. At first, at a loss as to how to handle a weeping woman, he stumbled. Then, remembering that this weeping woman happened to be the woman he loved, he gave a gentle tug on the hand he was holding, and nothing more was needed to encourage Grace to stand and fall into his arms.
The powerful yet loving arms holding her, and the tender hand stroking her hair, and the feeling of those lips on her temple must have had a soothing effect on her, as soon Grace's sobs subsided and she brought her tearstained face up to meet his.
"I'm sorry," she whispered.
"Don't be."
"I just, I was so worried about Annie, and then," she hesitated, before finding the love and encouragement which she needed, in his eyes, and continuing, "well, the way you held me at the bridge, I was sure that you felt the same, but before, upstairs, you were so formal, and I thought maybe . ."
"I didn't love you?" he asked, a mixture of curiosity and surprise.
"Yes," she admitted, once again lowering her head, as the tears threatened to spill.
"Grace, you said that you were sure I felt the same? Does that mean that-"
"Oh yes, of course I love you! I'm sorry, I guess I should have mentioned that before the flood!" Both of them laughed then, glad that that situation was become a little less grave.
"Well, how do you feel about me?"
"What do you mean?" she asked, knowing exactly what he meant, but feeling a little embarrassed at what he was asking of her.
"How do you feel about me? What do you love?" Oliver knew what he was asking of her was probably unfair, and really quite difficult, but he had a plan, and was convinced that it would work, if she would just-
"I love your arms," she began, shocking him slightly.
"My arms?"
She giggled, a light, carefree sound that turned ripples of love in Oliver's heart into raging waves, "well, your hands to be precise. They're so strong, but yet tender . . .just like you I suppose! Ever since my first birthday here, when all I wanted to do was feels your arms around me, and you shook my hand!" Oliver blushed slightly at the memory, recalling how badly he had wanted to kiss her that night, when she looked so beautiful in an emerald green gown and with her hair flowing much looser than usual.
"And well, I love the way that you smile at me across the breakfast table, even when I'm still half asleep, letting me know that you don't mind, and I love the way that you walk past my room every night even though it's not at all on the way to your own. I love the way that you look at me when I argue with you, the way that you sound when you're happy, the way you laugh, the way you get cranky when you're tired, the way you lend me your handkerchief whenever I cry at something ridiculous, knowing that I'll never have one. I love the way that my letters and speeches sound when you read them out loud, I love that fact that you remember my birthday and the anniversary of the day you hired me. Most of all though, I love being in your arms, knowing that no-one in the world could hurt me. I know it's only happened a few times, but I can honestly say . .it's my favourite place in the whole world."
And so, Oliver Warbucks was rendered well and truly speechless.