I kiss my man, and he dangles the Jaguar keys. Smiling, I grab them and yell, “Wahooo.”
Harry shakes his head, and we walk outside. He then slides into the fancy long Mercedes.
“Not a scratch on her. Now, enjoy, and I’ll call you later!”
I kiss him through the lowered window, then I pause. “Love you.”
Harry smiles. “I love you too,baby.”
I smile like a crazy person, then I run and leap into the Jag that is feet away. Next, I adjust my cool red scarf and huff, “Heck, yes.”
I have already planned the amazing art galleries I want to see, and throwing a glance into the side mirror, I floor the old sports car.
I do a loud and naughty one-eighty, and I peel off.
Three jaw-dropping hours later,I am two hours behind schedule. I have no idea where the hours have gone. I have seen some mind-blowing art, but I have messed up how long it takes to drag my sorry butt around the world-class art pieces and exhibits.
I am feeling elated from the incredible visual feast, but I am also depressed about missing one key gallery. As I run out of the current gallery I should have left an hour ago, my cell rings.
“Hey,” I say, panting.
“You okay?”
“Yes, no.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Too much amazement.”
“That’s New York City, baby,” Harry says with a laugh.
“Yes, well, it’s too much for this little lady.”
As I run down the street, I stick to my plan to jog to the next gallery. It’s hard in NYC because it’s spread out as all heck. “I’m not gonna make the last,” I say fast.
Harry asks what the name of the gallery is, and I huff it out as I run across the street.
Cars slide to a stop, and Harry’s voice cuts in, “Let me make a call.”
“What?”
“I know people.”
I shake my head in disbelief. “Of course you do.” As I run into the second to last gallery entrance, I huff out, “Going into another, call me back.” I pocket my cell, slow down, and center my energy.
Ninety minutes later, and after having my mind blown again with US, European, and global art, I walk out, shaking my head.
I check my watch and do a three-sixty, lost.I’m unsure where the Jaguar is and where I am. Before I can do anything, a horn blasts.
As I look over, I see my hot, grumpy fiancé open the door of the black Mercedes. “Get in, kid.” I squeal and run across the busy street.
Over the top, panicked car drivers freak. Tires screech, and I wince. “Sorry!”
I leap inside, and Harry shakes his head. As I drop the window, I wave to the pissed drivers, and we drive off. I drink Harry’s sparkling water as he finishes some call.
“Yes, tonight,” he says. “Three hours and private?” Harry waits and sips our water. “Look, I know it’s going to cost.”
Hitting speaker, he holds the cell phone between us. “Don’t be ridiculous, Harrison, there will be no cost at all.”
