Page 96 of Enzo

“Because you said we couldn’t.”

“I’ve changed my mind.”

“What does that mean?” She sits forward eagerly.

“Time for you to go out and explore, Cinderella.”

She giggles. “I've already been to the ball.”

“Indeed.” Rio would kill me, and I risk setting off another media event, but not if we’re careful. “I'll take you to the not-so-busy parts of New York. The parts I like. Not the loud, touristy areas.”

Excitement dances in her eyes. “But you said we couldn't be seen.”

“We can go out and not be seen.”

She frowns, but it doesn’t seem to bother her for too long. “I don't care where we go, as long as we get out of here.”

“We won’t go to the big touristy places,” I explain, setting down some boundaries. “We're supposed to be lying low. Rio would kill me if he found out.”

She chews her lower lip. “He would, and I wouldn’t want that.”

“Indeed.”

“So how do we go out and not be seen?” she asks.

“I thought you might ask that.”

I return to my study to fetch the large package. As well as normal clothing for Molly, I also asked Lesley for a few additional items of clothing to help us blend in. She sent sweatshirts, baseball caps and sunglasses, but she also sent some other items that are so ridiculous I thought that she’d maybe made a mistake.

I called her, and she told me she hadn’t. She’d interpreted “make us less recognizable” rather enthusiastically.

I return to the living room where Molly is waiting.

“We have to disguise ourselves somewhat, if we’re going out.”

Eyeing the packages, she’s on her feet, wringing her hands together in excitement. “What’s that?”

“How we won’t be seen.” I take out some items and hand them to her. A sweatshirt, shades and baseball caps. I take out mine.

“Are you ... are you going to wear that?” She stares at the sweatshirt in my hands.

I don't do sweatshirts, but necessity prevails. I huff out a sigh. “I have no choice.”

Molly giggles, and it’s the sweetest sound.

“You really mean it? We can go out there?” She look out of the window.

“Yes.” If I'd known it meant that much to her, I would have suggested it sooner.

Rio can't find out.

Nor can the press.

It's a terrible idea, and yet, it’s exactly what I want to do.

We retreat to our rooms to get dressed. Ten minutes later, I walk back out into the living room to find Molly waiting for me. She looks … gorgeous.

“You don’t look like Enzo.”