"What the hell?" Iris breathes.
I step onto the carpet and start walking. That's when the musicians climb out of their car with their instruments in hand. There are four of them. Two violins, a cello, a viola. They fall into step behind me as they begin to play a romantic melody that floats through the air.
"Oh my God," Iris says. "Oh my God, Ilay, what is this?"
"Look up."
She cranes her neck. I hear her gasp when she sees the skywriting overhead, the white letters spelling out against the perfect blue sky in curves and loops that the pilot must have practiced a dozen times.
I LOVE YOU TIMES A MILLION.
"You didn't," she whispers.
"I did."
People on the street have stopped to watch. They are pulling out their phones to take videos and photos. I can hear them murmuring to each other about how romantic it is. I can see Iris's colleagues pressed against the windows of the fourth floor looking down at us.
When we reach the car Viktor opens the back door. I finally set Iris down on her feet. Her face is flushed. Her eyes are wet. She's looking at me like she doesn't know whether to kiss me or kill me.
"You are the most ridiculous man I have ever met," she says.
"Is that a thank you?"
She grabs my face and pulls me down into a kiss. The musicians keep playing behind us. Somewhere overhead the plane is stillcircling. I can hear people cheering and clapping around us. Her lips are soft and warm. I want to keep kissing her forever but we have places to be.
When she pulls back she's smiling so wide it looks like it hurts.
"Thank you," she says. "You absolute lunatic."
"Get in the car."
"Where are we going?"
I reach into my pocket and pull out a silk blindfold in the same champagne color as the dress I bought her. "It's a surprise."
She looks at the blindfold, then back at me. "You're serious?"
"Very."
She sighs but she's still smiling as she turns around, lets me tie the blindfold over her eyes. I make sure the knot is secure but not too tight before I help her into the backseat. I slide in beside her, close the door. Viktor pulls away from the curb as the musicians wave goodbye.
"How long is this drive?" she asks.
"Not long."
"Can I have a hint about where we're going?"
"No."
"Please?"
"No."
"What if I guess?"
"You won't guess."
She reaches out blindly, finds my hand, laces her fingers through mine. I watch her face as she sits there in the darkness of the blindfold with a small smile on her lips.
