And this feels even more special.
I turn and look at him adoringly in the eyes.
“You’re sharing the Brooklyn Bridge View with me?”
“It’s a little more than that, baby.”
The car stops near the entrance of the bridge and parks in what is clearly marked as a tow-away zone, and we get out.
“We can’t park here.” I say pointing to the sign.
“It’s fine. Can you just let me be romantic without you worrying about everything?”
The driver pops the trunk and Jason reaches in and pulls out a bouquet of flowers.
“Welcome to our third and final date.”
Final? My heart sinks a bit. I don’t like the sound of that.
“Thank you,” I say graciously.
He grabs a picnic basked and his camera out of the car and the driver pulls out a few other bags and we walk.
“Let’s go take our walk.”
The first thing I noticed once we entered the pedestrian pathway of the bridge is that a police officer let us through a barrier that isn’t normally there to enter and that there are no other people on the bridge.
“Is this the apocalypse?”
He chuckles. “Why do you ask that?”
“There are no people. I read somewhere that an average of ten thousand people walk this bridge every day. Where are they?”
“I wanted to show you that everything about my celebrity and money are not bad things. I paid to have the pedestrian pathway closed to the public for three hours.”
“Holy hell, you can do that?”
“If you pay enough money, yes.”
“Do you still want to stay under the radar?” I ask, fearing the answer.
Is he embarrassed by me? That picture of me five years ago with the bangs wasn’t the best.
“I want what’s best for you and I think us taking things slow and steady and quiet is what’s best while you are working towards your dreams. I don’t want to be a disruption, but I also don’t want to disappear from your life. I want to stick around if you’ll have me.”
We arrive to two tables set with white linens, flanked on both sides by two commercial sized, stainless steel patio heaters. One table is for all the goodies that the driver is pulling out of the gourmet grocery bags and the other table is seating for us.
“Thanks, Paul. You can head back.”
“Enjoy your dinner.”
Jason pulls out plates, cutlery and two well packaged meals of porterhouse steaks, grilled asparagus and lobster Mac and cheese.
My eyes widen with greedy delight.
“How did you know I liked lobster Mac and cheese?”
“I have my ways.”
