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It was one of the most romantic places in the city.
People saved up to come for special occasions.
"This is crazy expensive, Crosby," she said, shaking her head at me.
"You deserve a fancy dinner when you're looking like that," I told her, watching as her cheeks tinted pink. "Come on," I added, urging her forward before she could start to overthink.
"Wow," she said, mouth agape as she looked around.
I had to agree with her.
The inside managed to look both upscale and cozy with exposed brick walls, large windows, deep gray walls and ceilings, white-draped tables, wooden floors, and chandeliers.
Each table was set with white with a single tall pillar candle lit in the center, the flames dancing around as we were led toward our table-for-two in a corner in front of the windows facing the back courtyard.
"This was really sweet," Dea declared after handing me back my jacket, and sliding into her seat. "But if we do a fancy dress date thing as a tradition, it doesn't need to be this fancy. Though, this is amazing," she said, picking up her menu.
She was a little tight for a while at first, awkward as a first date even though we'd known each other for a long time, had held dinner conversations countless times before. But by the time appetizers were eaten and some good wine was drunk, she had loosened up, raving about the drink, the food, the ambiance.
"Really," she started after dessert was eaten, reaching across the table to rest her hand over mine. "This was so nice," she said, giving me a soft smile. And it wasn't one I was familiar with. She had a lot of them, and I thought she'd given them all to me before, but there was something different about this one, something more intense, something more, I don't know, intimate.
It gave me hope.
That this was starting to work.
That she was seeing what I had seen for so long.
We were about halfway through the schedule.
I couldn't wait to see how things would progress.CHAPTER SEVENDeaI wasn't crazy.
I mean, I was pretty sure I wasn't crazy.
Something had changed with Crosby and me.
The thing was, I couldn't tell if it was just on my side, or on his side, if we were both feeling the same way, or if I was creating something in my head that wasn't there.
And the not-knowing was driving me absolutely crazy. I hadn't been able to think straight since he dropped me off from the dinner at the fancy restaurant, walking me to my door, reaching up to tuck my hair behind my ear, then telling me he had a good night, that he would see me the next day.
Then he was gone.
I stood there for what felt like ages, frozen in the spot, a little overwhelmed with the realization that the warm sensation moving through my system right then was decidedly more than friendly.
Sure, I'd always had a soft spot for Crosby, but this was different. This affection I was feeling was the kind that was making my belly wobbly as I got dressed for our next "date."
Wobbly.
Bellies didn't get wobbly for "just friends."
"Oh, Lock, what is wrong with me, huh, bud?" I asked, dropping down on my couch, resting my forehead to Lock's back. "I can't be having feelings for Crosby. I mean, that would make it weird for you and Lillybean to finally get together, don't you think?" I asked, sighing out my breath. "Maybe it was just all the romance of the restaurant," I mused, lifting my head when Lock rolled over, lifting his front leg, begging for a belly scratch.
That made sense, after all. It was one of the most romantic restaurants in the city. On top of that, we were dressed up like we were going on a real date. There was champagne and wine. And flowers.
It was just a heady dose of boyfriend stuff from my best friend. That was the most logical explanation.
"Tomorrow, you get to come with us on our date," I told him, scratching him behind the ears, a little worried that bringing him back to the shelter for the Christmas drive/party might trigger some bad memories for him, but hoping all the handmade treats and playtime with other dogs might make up for it all. "But tonight, I am on my own again," I said, getting up, going back to my bedroom, and grabbing another layer out of my closet.
I'd never done the whole Rockefeller Christmas tree and ice skating thing. In fact, I had only ever ice skated once in my life before. And had dislocated my shoulder. But I was choosing to be optimistic. And, you know, stay by the side, so I could hold onto the wall.
"Are you sure you have enough layers on?" Crosby teased when I met him just outside of Rockefeller Center.
