She could feel the suited man in her peripheral vision, or maybe that was paranoia knitting itself into her spine. Either way, she wasn’t risking standing still. They slipped into the queue, joining a family with sticky-fingered toddlers and an elderly couple arguing in German over whose turn it was to hold the map. Allegra positioned herself so Nate’s body blocked her from the path.
“Okay,” Nate said slowly, in thatI know you’re up to somethingtone. “What’s going on?”
She pasted on a smile so bright it hurt. “I just thought—could be fun?”
His eyes narrowed. The wheel creaked, one of the glass carriages descending with a mechanical whine.
“Also,” she added, lowering her voice to a whisper, “I’ve never actually been on one.”
That got his full attention. “What?”
She lifted a shoulder. “Ferris wheel. Never done it.”
“Seriously?”
“Mmm-hmm.” She examined a nonexistent speck of lint on her top. “My parents thought they looked dangerous.”
He stared at her. “Why?”
“They spin. In the air,” she said defensively. “There are heights involved. Structural trust. Wind.”
“It’s a giant, slow-moving circle.”
“Yes, well.” She crossed her arms. “Tell that to my childhood.”
The family in front of them shuffled forward. Nate was still looking at her like she’d just revealed she was allergic to oxygen. “You’ve traveled all over the world,” he said.
“Yes.”
“You’ve been on planes.”
“Frequently.”
“But not a Ferris wheel?”
She met his gaze. “Correct.”
The corner of his lip pitched up. “Okay, then we’re definitely doing this.”
“Uh, yeah. We’re literally in line.”
“Good,” he said, pulling out his wallet. “My treat.”
The capsule door swung open with a metallic clunk. Nate paid, and the attendant waved them forward. Allegra’s stomach fluttered, a chaotic mix of nerves and something lighter, something almost like excitement. Whether it was from the suited man still hovering somewhere behind her, the looming height of the wheel, or the fact that she’d just admitted something small and stupidly true, she wasn’t entirely sure.
They climbed inside—a glossy white bubble of glass and metal, just big enough for two people to sit awkwardly opposite each other. Allegra perched on the bench, and Nate settled across from her, his knees brushing hers in the cramped space. The door shut with a click. A second later, the wheel lurched, and they began to climb.
The frame creaked as they rose, the ground slipping away beneath them. Allegra gripped the seat—casually, she hoped—but her knuckles were white.
The Mont Blanc bridge stretched across the water to their right, lined with flags snapping sharply in the breeze. Bold Swiss crosses alternating with Geneva’s yellow-and-red crest. Beyond it, the lake shimmered in fractured sunlight, boats cutting pale lines across the blue. As they climbed higher, the Old Town came into view, clustered terracotta roofs and pale stone facades stacked in gentle tiers. And above it all, rising clean and certain against the sky, the steeple of St. Pierre Cathedral pierced upward like it had something to prove.
Geneva looked orderly from up here. Balanced. Contained. Like a place where things made sense.
The capsule swayed faintly as it passed another on its descent. Allegra forced herself not to look straight down. Nate, meanwhile, leaned back. “Okay,” he said, like they were sitting in a café instead of dangling a hundred feet above solid ground. “Any other big revelations?”
She glanced at him. “What do you mean?”
“Well, you’ve never been on a Ferris wheel. Which is insane, by the way. What else are you hiding?”
