She gazed up at him and smiled. “Okay.”
She looked at the map and led the way, her pulse thrumming at the thought of seeing the paintings.
When they got to the section it took some twists and turns. The rooms were like a maze. She was glad to have Gray with her, because she might have gotten lost without his help. But as soon as she found the Impressionist wing, she went to the paintings and stopped in front of the first Renoir she saw.
Gray came up and put his arm around her. “They’re beautiful.”
“It’s hard to believe I’m actually seeing them up close like this.” She wanted to reach out and touch them. Of course she knew she couldn’t, but they were so beautiful. She moved along and looked at each one in the gallery, though her favorites were the Renoirs and Monets. She understood now why there were cushioned seating areas in the center of each gallery, why some people sat and just stared for hours.
Art was such an amazing thing. She couldn’t draw at all, but she had such an appreciation for the talent of those who could paint beautiful works that spoke to her heart in this way.
She laced her fingers with Gray’s as they left the gallery. “I think someday I’ll come back to New York and spend every day for a week coming in here to just sit and reflect.”
“It’s peaceful. Gives you a chance to clear your head.”
They left the Met and Gray pulled her half a block down the street. There was a vendor cart and he ordered them two hot dogs and a drink.
“You haven’t truly experienced New York until you’ve had a hot dog from a vendor cart.”
She laughed. “Then by all means, we have to have one.”
They walked a little farther down the street and stopped at one of the benches under the shade trees, eating while people buzzed by on their way to wherever they were going. The hot dog was good and it was blistering hot outside, so the shade helped.
She enjoyed people watching, so Gray suggested they walk to the next tour bus stop, and since they would be walking along Central Park, she didn’t mind the walk at all.
They grabbed the bus and made a few more stops. Gray took her to lunch at an amazing bistro where she had the most perfect Greek salad with stuffed grape leaves, kalamata olives, and feta cheese, topped with dressing so delicious she wanted to scoop it up with a spoon. It was an open-air place so while she ate she people watched, and with so many people going by, it was such a pleasurable experience. She and Gray tried to imagine where they were all going, what kind of jobs they had. She got distracted a little by checking out the fantastic shoes the women wore.
Women knew how to dress in this city. She felt extremely underdressed in her capris and canvas shoes, but at least she was comfortable.
They grabbed the bus and ended up back where they started. She loved seeing everything, but it was an exhausting day. Gray hailed a cab. It was a harrowing ride, kind of like a roller coaster in an amusement park with lots of twists, turns, and abrupt stops. But she felt like she’d been truly indoctrinated into New York culture.
And she was a little nauseated, too, likely because she was still rubbernecking and playing tourist, craning her neck up to see the tall buildings and people watching as the taxicab performed death-defying acts by barely missing pedestrians and other cars.
There was a lot of horn honking going on, and the taxi driver seemed put out by the other cars and the pedestrians getting in his way.
It was insane, really.
“That was interesting,” she said after they climbed out and the cab pulled away, shoving itself into the flow of stop-and-go traffic.
Gray laughed. “Yeah. Welcome to New York.”
It took her a few seconds to register that they had stopped at The Plaza.
“I am so not dressed to have drinks here,” she said.
“We’re not having drinks here.” They went to the registration desk, where he shocked her by checking them in. The registration clerk told Gray that their suite was ready and their bags had already been taken up to their room.
The hotel was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. Very Old World, mixed with every modern convenience. And when she walked into the suite, she could have died from the beauty. It was a town house suite—two floors of utter decadence, with a dining room, a living room, an upstairs bedroom, and a marble-floored bathroom she might never want to leave.
There was a huge terrace that looked out over Central Park.
The first thing she did was step out onto the terrace. Gray followed.
“This is lovely. And the view is amazing.” She turned to him. “Thank you for bringing me here.”
“You’re welcome. I thought you might like to stay here tonight.”
“Tonight? I’m thinking of moving in permanently. You’ll have to drag me out of here, kicking and screaming.”