“But okay. How’s New York, then. Or, I don’t know, Key West? Somewhere there’s not a million TVs, all playing 24-hour news channels nonstop. You can just... waste away in Margaritaville until some other asshole’s asshole-of-a-father dies and steals the focus.”
Emily laughed again. “That’ll be loads of fun for you.” Mick didn’t drink. Not even an occasional beer or small glass of wine.
“I’ll be your designated... safety sherpa. Make sure you don’t, you know,Blow out a flip-flop, step on a pop top.”
Despite his silly words, hewasserious. “What about your work?” she asked.
He kissed the top of her head as he straightened back up. “Have laptop, will travel.” Mick was self-employed. He did post-production sound editing—not exactly the kind of work he could do outside of his high-tech home studio. Her skepticism was obviously all over her face because he added, “I can do the basics with my laptop and headphones. I’ll need to do a major tweak when I get back, sure, but that’s no big thing.”
Emily wasn’t so sure about that. In fact, it seemed giant.
He sat down on the dining room chair closest to hers, reaching out his hand to intertwine their fingers. “Your own schedule’s pretty clear right now.”
It was. She’d just been complaining that she had absolutely zero paid bookings until the end of the month—which didn’t mean last minute opportunities wouldn’t magically appear, particularly when it came to the types of photography gigs she did.
“I don’t know,” she said. As a still-relatively-new photographer looking to establish herself in a competitive business, it was important to be available for those last-second gigs.
“When’d you last have a vacation?” Mick asked.
“Never?” she said, laughing a little, as she wiped her eyes. “I mean, not since I went to Alaska.” That was at least four, no,fiveyears ago.
“Take the time, Em,” Mick said, his voice as steady as his warm brown eyes.
She wanted to, but... “I don’t want to go too far. If Carlotta needs me...”
“Palm Springs?” he suggested.
They’d yet to go together—this relationship was still so new—but he was well aware that the campy desert resort town had been her shiny, happy place, back when she was a kid. She’d talked about it enough—going there with her mom, and then later, with Carlotta. The bonus being that it was only a few short hours drive away, traffic gods permitting.
Mick smiled now as he saw the giant yet silentOh yes pleasein Emily’s eyes. “Palm Springs,” he decided.
“Can you really just take off on a Friday?—”
He cut her off. “Absolutely. Let’s just get in the car and go.”
“Right now?” She laughed.
“Yes, right now.” Again, he was serious. “Look, I’ll run home, grab some things...”
“God, I love you,” she said and as she leaned across the table to kiss him, she knew. This man not only made hard things bearable, he made her life richer in so many ways.
Palm Springs. Yeah. She’d love to go to Palm Springs, and while they were there, in the beautiful desert, maybe they’d find the time to take a quick road trip up to Vegas, thehome of a multitude of wedding chapels. Who could know what might happen then?
And leaving today absolutely worked.
“Lunch first,” she told Mick, reclaiming her hand to more thoroughly wipe her eyes. “Then you go home and pack while I call Carlotta, let her know our plans.”
“I’ll take my sandwich with me,” Mick told her, already heading for the door, wrap in hand. “It’ll get us on the road sooner.”
“Wow, you really want to go ASAP,” she said, and he turned to look back at her.
“I really want to get you out of here,” he countered, then added, “Get you someplace safe.”
“Thank you,” she whispered.
He laughed a little. “I’ll be back soon.” And he was gone.
Boston, Massachusetts
