“Yep, theRadio City Christmas Spectacular. I know you’ve heard of the Rockettes back in Kansas. But that’s not where we’re going. I could probably find a way to get us tickets, but Idon’t think you’re the kind of guy who wants to sit down for two hours when you can rock around the city. Unless you really want to see the show?” She looks up at me, questioningly.
“I’ll go wherever you take me. I’m a pretty easy guy. I’m letting a snow-kissed angel drag me around a city I could get lost in, so I’ll just keep holding your hand.” I squeeze her hand and smile down at her.
“Snow-kissed angel. I like that.” She returns my smile, and I swear her eyes sparkle.
When we reach the corner in front of Radio City Music Hall, we cross the street again. There’s a large fountain with giant ornaments sitting in the water.
“Let’s take our next few selfies here. We’ll get one with the ornaments behind us, and then we’ll get another one with the theater behind us.” She looks around, then seems to find a spot.
“Okay, sounds good. Do they do the ornaments every year, or is it different every season?” I ask, looking around at the various sizes in the fountain.
“Every year. They’re kind of iconic. You can’t do Christmas in New York without posing with the city’s biggest balls.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Big claim.”
She smirks. “Hey, it’s tradition. And selfies are the perfect tourist memento. You don’t just remember what you saw; you remember who you were with when you saw it.”
I grin. “So, basically, photographic evidence that I met a snow-kissed angel and her giant balls?”
She bursts out laughing. “Careful, Blitzen. That caption writes itself.”
I move to stand behind her again and wrap my arms around her waist, and this time, I rest my chin on her shoulder. “Ready.”
To a passerby, we probably look like a couple who’s been together for a while. We’re definitely not acting like strangers.She seems just as comfortable with me as I am with her. That has to mean something. Sexy, unpredictable, and funny.
What are the chances that I meet my dream girl at a wedding? In another city. In a different state.
“Okay, let’s move over there to get a better shot of Radio City behind us.” She points to an area a little farther down the fountain pool.
“Yes, ma’am.” I take a minute to appreciate the sway of her hips as she walks.
We take another selfie, and then she taps out a text on her phone. “How do you feel about ice skating?”
“Ice skating?” I thumb back toward Rockefeller Center. “You mean where we just?—”
“Ugh. No. That’s a tourist trap that will have you standing in line for two hours for a ten-minute skate. I have somewhere better, and we don’t have to wait in line.”
“Uh … I could do that. Although it’s been years since I’ve been on skates. Not really a big thing where I’m from. I’m not sure the dress socks I’m wearing or the heels you’re wearing are going to work with the skates though.” I point to her shoes. “Or that I’m dressed like a human snowflake in a white suit.”
“It would be an issue if you didn’t fill that suit out so well.”
I smirk, and she rolls her eyes.
“Please don’t fake modesty with me. We’ve known each other far too long for that.”
“You mean, what, thirty minutes?”
“Our friendship is eternal.” She sways playfully from side to side, then lifts a hand toward the street. “Oh! We’re making a stop first. Come on. My driver’s picking us up on the corner.”
She takes my hand, and I thread my fingers with hers. Even though she’s wearing gloves, I can still feel the heat from her hand.
“Your driver? Can’t we just grab a cab?” I ask her.
“Nah, it’ll be faster for my driver to get us.”
We continue walking, and a three-person jazz band is playing Christmas carols. A saxophonist, a drummer, and a bass player are jamming to“Let It Snow.” It’s an upbeat melody, the kind you’d hear on a Michael Bublé album. I tug on her hand toward the jazz trio in front of a pair of towering candy canes wrapped in glittering lights, and she looks up at me.
“Dance with me?” I might not be the most romantic guy, but I’m feeling this with her, and honestly, I just want to hold her again. But this time, I want to look in her eyes while I do.
