“Completely fine.”
“Because that’s your third wince in thirty seconds.”
She made a face. “Fine, you caught me. My feet are plotting my death.”
I glanced down at her shoes again. I really had no clue how she was able to walk in them at all—they looked more like a torture device than something to walk on.
“Want to sit?” I offered,
“Can’t. If I sit, I’ll never get back up.”
I looked around—crowded tables, no empty seats, a hallway that probably led somewhere quieter. “Come on.”
“What—”
Before she could finish, I bent and scooped her up—one arm under her knees, one steady behind her back.
She yelped, her hand grabbing at my shirt. “Tino!”
“Relax,” I said, grinning. “You said you couldn’t walk.”
“Yeah, but I didn’t mean—this!”
“Too late,” I said, grinning. “Damsel mode activated.”
Her laughter came out breathless, half scolding, half delighted. “You’re unbelievable.”
“Strong, though,” I said, shifting my grip as we started toward the hallway. “That should count for something.”
People turned to stare—a few laughing, a few definitely taking pictures—but she didn’t seem to care as much as shepretended to. She just sighed and buried her face against my shoulder, her breath warm through the fabric of my suit.
“Put me down before someone writes a headline,” she mumbled.
“You said you couldn’t walk.”
“I’ll crawl.”
“Romantic.”
We made it out to the patio—wide glass doors, a string of lights over the railing, and the city stretched below us like spilled glitter. The noise of the party faded as we slipped out through the glass doors and into the cool night. The patio overlooked the city—strings of lights overhead, soft music still echoing faintly from inside.
I finally set her down carefully, one hand steady on her waist as she slipped her shoes off, holding them in the crook of fingers by their straps.
“See? Didn’t die,” I said.
“Barely survived,” she said. Her shoes dangled from one hand; her other hand rested briefly against my arm as she found her balance.
The night air hit cool and clean after the heat inside. Her cheeks were flushed, a few curls falling around her face. She tucked one behind her ear and looked up at me, smiling in a way that felt like a secret. Her dress fluttered slightly as some wind blew by and the blue of her dress caught the glow from the lights.
“Crazy night,” I said.
“Yeah,” she said softly. “They were all so happy. Luca, especially.”
“Yeah,” I said, leaning on the railing beside her. “He deserves it.”
“He really does.” She smiled faintly. “He’s worked for this forever. All of them have.”
“It’s nice how proud of you are of him,” I said. “And that you’d do all this to come see him get an award. He’s lucky to have you.”
