“Dinner,” I simply stated before gulping back a little more Cabernet.
“Let’s go,” was all he offered up, turning toward the living room of our suite.
“Here? Or somewhere else?” I inquired from behind him.
He pivoted, taking me in. “You don’t need a real shirt if that’s what you’re asking.”
Hmmm, he noticed my half shirt…“Okey-dokey.” I played along with his coy attitude.
Snatching a blazer off the chair, I tossed back the remainder of my wine and hit the main room.
“Let’s go!” I shouted, the liquor coursing through my frazzled veins.
Donovan held the door open, waiting for me to exit, and we walked toward the elevators, his hand coming to rest on my lower back, navigating me. And chilling me to the bone.
“You okay?” he asked, stopping short.
“Yes, fine. Why?” I didn’t dare look at him, keeping my gaze ahead.
“Because you just shivered.”
“It’s fine.”
“Tulya, a cracker is fine. A salt and vinegar potato chip is fabulous. There is a lot of distance between the two. What is wrong? Are you nervous?”
He used his hand to nudge me to face him, quickly dropping his fingers from my shoulder. I didn’t know how he did it—went from laissez-faire to bossy to caring in milliseconds.
“I’m seriously great. We need to eat and get to sleep so we can get on with it.” I plastered a smile on my face, hoping Donovan refrained from any more small touches, preventing me from having to explain what he did to me…
We walked through the lobby, and I took in all the couples in love and vacationers here for a good time and wished my mission was different.
“Want to walk?” Donovan asked me when we stepped outside. “I thought we would go for sushi, and it’s not far.”
I felt myself nodding, thinking I loved sushi and Florida, and maybe even small parts of today.
We strode side by side on the sidewalk for two blocks in quiet, a fusion of both good and bad tension tethering us.
“Here.” Donovan finally spoke when we stood in front of a neighboring hotel. “The rooftop is spectacular, and I know you wanted to have a respite. For one day,” he said, holding the door open. He uttered the thoughtful words quietly and only for me, and I wanted to grovel for him to put his hand back on my lower spine.
We rode up the elevator, and as soon as the doors opened, my mouth fell.
“It’s gorgeous,” I muttered, taking in my surroundings. Wooden canopies draped in flowers and leaves covered the entire rooftop, petite booths and tables with gauzy tablecloths filling in the space below them. I could see tiny tea lights spread throughout the space, twinkling despite the sun still being in the sky.
“I thought you might like it.” Donovan guided me with his palm on my back toward the hostess, and I willed the chills to stay away.
Soft holiday music filled the area even though there wasn’t any snow to be found on South Beach.
“Malachite for two.” Don spoke authoritatively, and the young brunette hostess nodded.
She found our name and said, “Right this way.”
Sadly, my back was suffering the loss of Donovan’s hand.
The hostess went to pull out my seat, but Donovan beat her to it and sent her away with a hushed, “Thank you.”
“This is really…I don’t know, splendid? Is that the right word?” I said, looking around in wonderment.
“It’s a small piece of heaven,” Donovan agreed.
