Plan the question they never see coming
Plan a proposal abroad while your partner thinks it is just a holiday. We hold the spot at your hour and reach only you.
It comes off your final price, and is refunded in full if you don't go ahead.
Most people planning a proposal check this before anything else. Choose how you want to hear from us, and nothing arrives anywhere else.
Replies go to the address you give us, never a shared inbox, with no calendar invites attached.
Short messages to your number, only during the hours you set.
Tell us when you will be alone, on a lunch break or a drive, and your advisor calls then.
We never contact your partner. Hotels, the photographer and the restaurant hear only what they need to, and confirmations stay off shared calendars until after the yes.
Everything that could give the game away is settled before you fly, so all you carry is the ring and what you want to say.
Some people want a story to tell for years. Others would hate an audience. Start with them.
No music, no crowd, and a photographer far enough back that they never notice. For someone who would hate a scene.
One table set where there is never usually a table, and the question asked before dessert arrives.
Words on a sandbank seen from the air, a violinist on the terrace, or fireworks timed to the moment.
You ask alone, then open the door to the parents who flew in without a word.
Where you met, or the city they keep bringing up. Tell us, and we plan the hour around it.
Days into a trip through Greece or Sri Lanka, when they have stopped wondering why you planned it.
The cover story decides everything else: why you are there, why they should dress up, and why a stranger has a camera. Pick one, and we build the trip around it.
Their birthday explains the long dinner, the good outfit and the photographer you booked as a present.
A dating anniversary covers a special table and your sudden interest in photos of the two of you.
You have meetings abroad and they fly in for the last few days. The question comes once the work is done.
Give them a shoot on the beach, so the photographer can stand right in front of you without raising a question.
A group trip where the friends book a dinner and quietly leave the two of you at the table.
Let them choose the island. We add the evening they do not know about.
Proposals we have written about, and the places they chose.
Rick chose the date so the city's fireworks would end the evening, on a rooftop facing the Eiffel Tower.
Simone thought they were going out for dinner. A horse-drawn carriage took her to the lake instead.
A private island in the Whitsundays, reef-blue water and a boat waiting at the jetty.
Margot spotted "Marry me?" spelt out in rocks on a tiny island before the pilot landed beside it.
Browse photographers and stylists at your destination, then let your advisor book them without a word to your partner.
Someone who can stay hidden until the moment you ask.
Flowers and candles set up in the hour before you arrive.
Once they say yes, the planning tools are ready for the next step.
What usually comes next, planned by the same team.
Introduce the two families properly, at home or abroad.
Marry in the place you asked, a year or two on.
Go back as newlyweds, or somewhere new.
1. Your advisor replies on your terms: by email or phone, the way you asked, or on WhatsApp if you chose it, with a few questions about where, roughly when and how private it should be. 2. A first call, when you are alone: what they love, what they would hate and the cover story, at a time you pick. 3. Two or three spots, in writing: each with the hour we would hold, where the photographer stands, the covered spot nearby and what is not included. 4. We hold the date and the hour: the spot, the photographer, the table and the transfers, with every confirmation sent only to you. 5. You ask: your advisor is on your channel all day, and the table is ready whenever you are.
Give us the place, a rough month and the one private way to reach you. Nothing goes anywhere else.
