“There’s no other way to keep it a surprise,” I justify as I drive my Cadillac CTSV through Midtown.
“I’m not a fan of surprises,” Savannah comments under her breath.
“Too bad,” I shoot back.
Savannah crosses her arms over her chest, bunching the cashmere halter dress I picked out for her to wear. When she came downstairs with it on, I think a line of drool trickled out of the corner of my mouth.
“We’re here,” I announce as I pull my car up to curb of our destination. When I get out of the car, I spot a security guard exiting the building. He reaches for Savannah’s handle, but I shake my head. He nods and wisely takes a step back. Smile back in place, I round my car to the other side and open Savannah’s door, reaching inside. “Alright, Dream Girl. Take my hand.”
I can hear the eye roll in her tone. “I can’t see it.”
Snagging her hand, I guide her out of the car and growl into her ear. “No need to act like a brat.”
My eyes zero in on Savannah’s clenched thighs, and I smirk. If we weren’t in public right now, I’d spin her around, push her up against the side of my car, flip up the back of her dress, and sink into her warmth. But no one else gets a peek at what’s mine.
Instead, I lead her through the entrance and into the elevator. Savannah taps her nails on the handrail. Her impatience is adorable.
“How much longer?” She sighs.
“Not much,” I answer vaguely.
The elevator chimes and the doors slide open. Guiding her with her hands in mine, we move past the dinner I had set up and step out onto a balcony.
Savannah scrunches her face as it’s assaulted with the intense breeze. "What’s with the wind?”
“No more questions.”
"Well, maybe if you answered one I wouldn't have so many." Even through the blindfold, I can feel the glare Savannah gives me, but I ignore it.
I move her into the right position, facing toward the sunset. “Stand there. Turn this way. And…” I remove the blindfold. “Voilà!”
Savannah blinks, her eyes adjusting to the onslaught of sunlight in her face. She scans the area, taking in the view of the city. “You brought me to the Empire State Building?”
“No New Yorker can call themself a New Yorker without visiting the Empire State Building at least once.” I shrug.
She slowly approaches the mesh metal fence, reverently placing her hands on the railing. Her chin wobbles and water lines her lower lashes, but she keeps the tears from falling. I move behind her, caging her in my arms as I place my hands next to hers.
Watching her in this moment, I get to experience the view from her eyes. Her wonder and awe give me a new appreciation for it.
Savannah looks around the observation deck again. “Why are we the only ones up here?”
“I know the right people.” I’m not trying to boast. I do know the right people, and even if I didn’t, I’d still find a way to make this moment happen for her.
“You did this for me?” Savannah turns to face me, giving the view of NYC her back, and my arms instinctively wrap around her waist.
“You said it was on your bucket list.”
Her eyes search my face, but I’m not sure what she’s intent on finding. Then she looks past me, and nods her chin. “And that?”
Glancing over my shoulder, I spot the small table surrounded by candles inside “Oh, yes. We will also be dining here.”
Her brows lift, and a small smile curves her lips. “What?”
I release my hold on her and step back, extending a hand to her and using my other arm to motion toward our dinner. “Right this way.” She gives me her hand, and we go inside. I place her coat on the back of the chair as I pull it out for her to take a seat. When she sits, I help her scoot in. “Madam.”
Savannah plays along. “Thank you, good sir.”
I take my seat across from her and pause to capture this moment mentally. Her hair is slightly windswept, her cheeks pink from the cold, and her wide smile on her face. “To start, we will be having burrata di bufala, followed by risotto alla milanese, and for a palate cleanser, we’ll have lemon granita, then osso buco, and finally, tiramisu for dessert.”
