He laughs as he sits back, and his knee brushes against mine as the plane tilts into a slow descent.
“So.” I try to ignore the fact he’s not moving his knee while also ignoring the fact I don’t really want him to move it. “Are you finally going to tell me where we are going?”
He just smiles, holding back all of his secrets. “You’ll see.”
As soon as the plane stops, we stand and head for the exit, where the stewardess opens the door. A cool rush of air sweeps in, thwarting my hopes for warmer weather. “So, we aren’t in Hawaii?” I joke as I step forward.
Bill chuckles as he comes up behind me, and we inch outside. One of his hands slips onto my hip, as if he’s trying to assist me down the stairs, but it sends shivers of goosebumps down my spine. “We need a lot more time than a couple of hours to get to Hawaii, but just say the words, and I will schedule it.”
The steps unfold, and I stand on the top one, peering out. It’s dark, with soft glowing lights on the skyline. From what I can see, rooftops are covered in snow. “I give up.” I take a few steps down and toss a look at him. “Where are we?”
He’s quiet, but the stewardess smiles and says, “Welcome to Québec.”
The breath in the back of my throat catches. Québec is not a place I’d considered. Bill takes my hand as he joins me on the ground. “Just wait until you see it,” he says. “This city is magical. Like Europe but closer.”
I have no words. I just allow the runway lights to lead the way to a black car, which appears to be waiting for us. The driver is dressed in a dark suit, and he takes my rolling suitcase with a quiet nod and stands back to hold the door open for us. We slide onto the soft leather back seat, where the air is much warmer. I turn to Bill with wide eyes. “I’m still a little speechless. What made you think of Québec?”
He shrugs as he rests his arm on the back of the seat behind me. “Well, I’m trying to get you to have a crush on me. My first choice was obviously Paris, but I figured you wouldn’t take that much time off. The flight alone takes a whole day.”
Speechless, all I can do is shake my head and stare out the window as the driver moves forward. We wind through narrow cobblestone streets, past old stone buildings that bringother world feels. It’s breathtaking to see lights draped across alleyways. We pull up to a boutique hotel nestled on the corner of a perfect cobblestone street. The car stops right near the curb, where the bellhop receives our bags. Bill takes my hand, leading me into the lobby.
I couldn’t have dreamed of a more inviting place with its rich wood floors and a crackling stone fireplace on the back wall. Behind the tall mahogany desk, the clerk greets us with a smile. “Checking in?”
“Yes, please. I have two rooms for Baker.” Bill slides his credit card over the desk. The clerk inserts Bill’s information and returns his card back to him and then slides over two key cards. “Your suites are on the top floor. The elevator is right down the hall to the left.”
“Thank you.” Bill takes the keys, hands one to me, and in a voice a tad lower than normal he says, “You have your own room, as I promised. Just in case you were concerned.”
We step in unison toward the elevator, with the bellhop behind us, and I smile. “I wasn’t concerned.” It’s the truth too. Ever since that plane left Vermont, all my worries have melted away. It’s crazy how leaving town does that to a person.
He paces next to me and flashes a flirty smile. “But if you need anything, I’ll be right next door. Like, if you get lonely and want to snuggle...”
I laugh, feeling the release of the last lingering tension in my shoulders. “Wow, snuggling is so neighborly of you.”
His chuckles join mine. “Anything to make you comfortable.”
The elevator dings, and we allow the bellhop to guide us to our rooms. It’s just as Bill promised—separate suites. The bellhop takes our bags inside first, leaving us alone in the hallway for a moment. Bill pauses with one hand on his door and the other hand hanging loosely by his side. “I’m sure you want to freshenup. How about I knock on your door in about thirty minutes, and we can go out for dinner?”
My lips pinch together as I’m not used to “freshening up” before dinner. That’s not really the life I live. Most of the time I'm serving everyone else dinner, and I eat stolen French fries in the back room. In a way, it feels like I’m playing some sort of character in a movie, and it makes me smile when I say, “That sounds wonderful.”
A beat passes, where we share a look. Something quietly charges between us, like the anticipation of the upcoming date. It sends a wave of flutters through my gut. He waits for me to slip inside my room first, and I let the door close behind me.
The room is spectacular.
Light painted walls with elegant crown molding. A king-size bed with a cream velvet headboard. Windows that stretch almost floor-to-ceiling reveal a glittering view of the city. I’ve never stayed in a place like this before. My chest swells with giddiness as I cross the room to steal a look out the window. Sure enough, it’s miles of glowing cobblestone streets and never-ending snow flutters. As much as I’m already sick of the snow this year, I can’t help but think it’s beautiful from up here.
Reaching out to touch the cool glass, I rest my hand as I stare out with wonder.
This is unreal!
This feels like something that happens to other people. People who are in completely different tax brackets and shop at all the high-end places that never have big-box specials.
I’ve never been that girl.
But it feels good to pretend I am that girl, even if it’s just for a day or two. My suitcase is set out on a bench at the foot of the bed, and I cross the room again to unzip it. Bill never gave me a clue where we were eating. I knew better than to ask because he wouldn’t have told me anyway. If I had to guess, I’d say I need tolook nice. I remove one of two dresses. Both are long and lean, more casual than formal, but this one is black and makes a nice dinner dress.
A few minutes later, I have on new mascara and lip gloss, and my hair is down. It’s nothing fancy, but it feels a whole lot better than my diner apron. I drape my pink coat on my arm and step out into the hallway, where Bill’s already leaning one shoulder against the wall like he’s been waiting for a while.
“Wow.” His eyes sweep over me with nothing but his usual unmistakable warmth. “You look beautiful.”
