The cozy restaurant and warm candle lit atmosphere fade behind us almost instantly as Pippa and I step back into the street. It is replaced by the sharp energy of New York in the early afternoon, the noises of honking cars and distant construction.
“Do you think they believed we’re in a real relationship?” Pippa asks.
“Yeah. They believed it … and they loved it.”
She smiles, pleased. “Well, I loved them. You’re very lucky. They’re lovely people.”
“Yes, I know I am.”
She looks shamefaced all of a sudden. “We shouldn’t have fooled them as we did, should we?”
I sigh. “No. I guess not.”
“Maybe, they’ll get what they wish for soon, and you’ll find a girl to marry and have kids with so they can have the grandchildren they’re craving for.”
“Do you want to go to the Empire State Building?” I ask, tilting my head toward the iconic spire rising above the skyline.
Pippa’s eyes light up, like she is a child and I’ve just suggested a trip to an all-you-can-eat ice cream bar.
“Yes. Absolutely. It’s so iconic. I want the full tourist experience. All the way to the top, no shortcuts.”
“You got it,” I say. “Front row view, tourist tickets, the whole thing. We’ll even do the silly posed photos if you want to.”
She laughs, a sound that’s easy, bright, and warm. “Oh, I want the silly photos. Definitely. But you’ll be taking most of them, obviously, since I have now decided to upgrade you to playing the part of the brooding hero.”
My eyebrows rise. “When did you decide that?”
“When I saw the scowling baby photos,” she says with a laugh.
“I’m glad those photos were finally put to good use then.”
We weave through midtown, slipping past street performers, hot dog carts, and the occasional tourist pausing in the middle of the sidewalk to stare at a map on their cell phone.
“Wow,” she enthuses, “look at the way the Empire State Building gleams in the sun and grows larger with every step. How tall. Almost impossibly tall. That spire is Art Deco, isn’t it?”
“Yup,’ I say, stepping into the queue. The line to enter is long and swarming with tourists all craning their necks upward.
Pippa nudges me as we inch forward. “We’re going to need snacks, right? It’s a commitment, this whole skyscraper thing. I vote for a pretzel.”
“A pretzel is a solid choice,” I agree, scanning the vendor carts along the path. “Salted or cinnamon?”
“Salted,” she says decisively. “We’re going to the top, and that means we need sustenance for maximum sightseeing energy.”
Warm doughy scent fills my nostrils as I return to the queue, where we munch on them as we approach the security check. Once inside, we take the elevators up, the walls gleaming andornate, polished to a mirror-like shine. Pippa presses a hand against the brass panels, her eyes wide.
“Wow. This is glamorous.”
“Glamorous and crowded,” I warn her. “I don’t want to be a killjoy, but keep a hold on your purse.”
“I’ll hold it. Don’t worry. But you? You look way too relaxed. It makes me think you’re up to something. What are you up to?”
I raise an eyebrow. “Me? I’m innocent. Completely.”
We step out onto the observation deck, and the view from up here is breathtaking. Manhattan sprawls beneath us, the rivers gleaming like strands of silver ribbon, the streets tiny as threads, the city humming like a living thing. Pippa’s eyes go wide, and her jaw drops slightly, a cute reaction that makes my chest tighten.
“It’s wow,” she murmurs. “It’s just everything, all at once.”
I lean closer, my elbow brushing hers. “Glad you stayed?”
