Page 50 of Into The Light

“Thank you, Sheila,” I responded.

She walked over to the exit door and twisted the handle. A whoosh of air cut through the cabin when the door swung open. With the push of a button the stairs whirred while they telescoped out and settled onto the tarmac.

After standing, I turned to Emilia. Her eyes fixated on mine, searching for answers and assurance.

I extended a hand. “Coming, birthday girl?”

Without a word she reached up and slid her hand into mine. Though the sparks weren’t visible, I could swear I saw electricity crackling between us when we touched. I could certainly feel it. With a gentle tug I pulled her onto her feet and guided her to the open door. Stepping behind her I paused when she stopped at the door, staring out at the limo waiting for us.

“Welcome back to New York, Mr. Mackay,” my driver, Cyrus, called up with a smile so bright it nearly lit up the night. It was a stark contrast to his black suit, dark skin and mocha brown eyes.

“New York?” Emilia spun to face me, almost toppling down the stairs. My hand shot to her lower back to kept her from tumbling backward. “I’m in New York?” Her face lit up with excitement while she regained her balance.

“The city awaits.” I smiled. A gentle nudge on her back started her down the stairs. Cyrus hurried to open the door when we arrived at my limo.

“Pleasure to meet you, Miss Charles. I’m Cyrus, Mr. Mackay’s driver in New York City. And I hear happy birthday is in order?” he said, ushering her into the back seat.

“Thank you, Cyrus. It’s a pleasure to meet you!”

I slid into the seat beside her and caught Cyrus’ approving wink before he closed us inside the car.

“Bubbly!” Emilia squealed when she noticed the corked champagne bottled chilling on ice beside the solitary champagne flute.

Her enthusiasm made me smile. “It’s for you. May I pour you a glass?”

“I’ll never say no to champagne,” she said and smiled while I filled her glass.

Cyrus climbed into the driver’s seat and started off to where Mark told him to go when he’d arranged our excursion this morning. The car wound through the airport to the private exit. Emilia sipped on her champagne and glanced to me before quickly diverting her eyes out the window just as she had done the entire flight.

“Have you ever been to New York?” I asked, another attempt to break the silence.

“No, but I’ve always dreamed of coming here. I still can’t believe I’m in New York! Thank you, Aiden.”

Her rigid posture softened when I smiled back at her.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“Another surprise.”

She shook her head. “You certainly are full of them, aren’t you?”

Honestly, I wasn’t. I couldn’t remember a time I had planned a surprise or adventure for any lady in my life. They had all been one-night stands since Isobel left me. Their happiness didn’t matter much but seeing Emilia light up had quickly become a major driving factor for me. I craved her smile, her pleasure, and her happiness. And I would go to any length to see them. Her joy brought me joy. More than I had felt in centuries.

We made our way through the city. The lights and energy kept Emilia glued to the window while she took it in with awe in her eyes. Cyrus navigated his way to the first part of her birthday surprise. He pulled the limo up to the curve and hurried around to the door, pulling it open with a bow.

I stepped out first, turning then to offer Emilia my hand. She downed the rest of her champagne before taking it and stepping out onto the street. She spun in a circle, wonder radiating her already glowing face lit from the lights of the city still buzzing with life.

“I’m in New York! This is amazing, Aiden!”

“I’m glad you approve.”

“This way, Mr. Mackey,” Cyrus said gesturing us toward an alley.

Emilia’s face scrunched up in confusion, but she followed me down the alley to the modest white door on the side of the massive building. Cyrus knocked twice, and in moments it opened, and I saw the familiar face of Rachel, a stylishly dressed brunette woman, appear.

“Good evening, Mr. Mackay. Welcome back,” Rachel said and waved us in. I nodded my reassurance to Emilia and held the door for her to head inside. One tentative step at a time she moved down the grey concrete hall where only a few flickering lights illuminated the darkness. Rachel lead the way until we reached the silver door at the end. With a twist of the knob, she opened it and stepped out of the way. Emilia gasped when she stepped through the doorway.

“Welcome to Barney’s,” Rachel said.