The Ritz Proposal

Seventy-two hours later, the evening air in Paris carried the crisp, romantic scent of roasted chestnuts, aged stone, and autumn rain. High above the Place Vendôme, on the private rooftop terrace of the Imperial Suite at the Hôtel Ritz, a candlelit table was set for two beneath a canopy of white orchids and climbing ivy. Below them, the City of Light sparkled like a field of fallen diamonds. The Eiffel…