“And so you came to the big city to find some thrills.”
Her eyes floated toward the ceiling as she thought about that. “Yeah, I guess I did. My parents wanted me to go to school somewhere closer to them, but then I got into NYU. Though, honestly, it wouldn’t have mattered if I went to the best school in the world. What they really want is for me to be a veterinarian. They’re obsessed with this weird kind of legacy thing when it comes to that.”
“They’re vets?”
She took a delicate sip of wine. “Mm-hmm. They have a practice together. And I love animals and all. I went on a lot of house calls with them growing up. Which was a lot of fun, but I know being a vet wouldn’t be my thing.”
“I understand completely.”
She swirled the wine in her glass. “So I moved out here with my best friend. I went to school, but only because that’s what my parents wanted me to do.”
“But you didn’t study what you wanted?”
She flashed a smile that lit up the room. “No. I still can’t even admit that to my parents. Isn’t that sad?”
“Don’t worry about it. It’s normal. Everyone reverts to a toddler when it comes to interacting with their parents.”
Riley laughed. “That’s what I suspected. It still sucks though.” She squinted her eyes and stared at me.
“What? Are you trying to read into the depths of my soul?”
She blushed again and looked away. “Sorry. I was trying to guess how old you are.”
“Forty-five,” I said as she took a drink of wine.
Riley’s eyes went wide and her cheeks puffed up. She put the wine glass down as she sputtered and pressed the back of her hand to her mouth.
“You all right there?” I laughed.
“Sorry. You just look so...”
“I was kidding. I’m thirty.”
She grinned. “Whew, thank God.”
“You have something against older men?”
“No, it’s not that. I just…” She looked around at the surrounding tables as if afraid someone might be listening in. “I figure if you were forty-five you might think you were too old for me. Because here’s the thing… I actually didn’t go to college. Not yet, anyway. I’m only seventeen.”
My mouth dropped open. It only took one second for Riley to burst into laughter. “I’m kidding! I’m kidding.”
“Not fair,” I guffawed.
“Did you really think I’m seventeen? Man, that would look really bad for your club, them letting in high school kids and all.”
“It would look really bad for me,” I told her. I tried to pretend like I was angry, but I couldn’t get rid of the shit-eating grin stretching across my face.
The conversation moved on, and Riley gave me the whole breakdown of the last five years of her life. She told me about moving to the city with Ann-Marie, finishing school, and admitting to herself that she wanted to open her own bakery before getting her job at Crumbs.
When our meal arrived, the talk mostly evolved into a reverent monologue on food. Riley was “in love” with the sushi. She was “in love” with the octopus. She was “in love” with the thing she couldn’t even pronounce. It became clear she was a real foodie. Just seeing her in her element made me happy. It was also nice to be out with a woman who wasn’t pushing food around on her plate and complaining about how she needed to lose ten pounds.
By the time we finished eating, there was still wine in the bottle, but I gestured for the check. “Ready to get out of here?”
Riley looked slightly disappointed. “Is there any place better to be?”
I held back my smile. “Actually, there is.”
Our second destination wasn’t far. We beat the traffic by walking the three blocks. Riley skeptically looked all around as we entered the hotel’s lobby.
“A hotel?” she asked, eyebrow raised.
“Just wait and see.”
I led her to the elevator and hit the rooftop button. We glided upward and exited onto the top of the building. During the winter, the place was covered in plastic and filled with outdoor heaters to keep it warm, but the sides were clear tonight, the view of West Manhattan splayed out for us to enjoy. To the left, the one bartender working waited behind the bar with folded hands.
“This is gorgeous,” Riley said, going to the nearest banister. A gust of wind hit the building, and her hair flew around her shoulders.
“A drink?”
“Sure.”
“What would you like?”
She shrugged. “Anything.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Don’t do that.”
She turned to me, all wide-eyed innocence. “Don’t do what?”
“Turn the decision over to me. You have your own valid preferences. Now, what would you like to drink?”
My words might have been a little harsh, but Riley needed to hear them. She couldn’t even order her own dinner, despite the fact that she had an opinion on everything that came to our table. At first, I thought it was because she was excited, but I soon began to believe it was because she was timid and demure.
“You’re a smart girl,” I went on. “With excellent tastes, judging from the ecstatic experience you just had at dinner. The things you want are right. Your opinions are valuable simply because you have them. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”
For maybe the fifth time that night, her cheeks colored, but this time she didn’t look away. As her brown eyes held my gaze, my body responded to her intense look, but not in the way that I was used to. It wasn’t desire coursing through my veins. It was something else entirely. Something I didn’t understand.
“Do you want to dance?” I asked, the question bursting from me.
“Gin and tonic.”
“What?”
Her eyes shown with amusement. “You asked me what I wanted to drink… and now you’re cutting me off and asking me to dance.”
Laughter left me in the form of a grunt. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I’ll get you a drink.”
She smirked, something wicked behind the grin. “Actually, now that you mention it, I’d rather dance.”
I extended my palm to her. “Then let’s dance.”
“There’s no music.”
I jerked my head in the general direction of the bar. “He’ll put some on. Of course, if you’d rather have drinks and just relax, we can do that instead.”
I expected the hesitation I’d seen in Riley since the moment we met. But instead, she confidently put her hand in mine. “Let’s dance.”
Pressing my other hand against the small of her back, I drew her out toward the bar’s open space. The bartender, as per a request I put in before the night even began, put some jazz on. Riley smiled and looked over my shoulder at the empty bar.
“No one else is here,” she commented. “This place is amazing. I’d think it would be packed, even on Sunday.”
“Not tonight.”
“Why not…?” She looked back at me, her eyes narrowed. “Hold on. Did you rent this place out for the night?”
“You don’t really have to rent places out when you own them.”