Page 60 of Last First Date

She glanced at me but didn’t say anything. The silence that filled the car was deafening. I knew she was pissed and most probably disappointed in me. A few minutes later, we reached the hotel.

“Waverly,” I said, trying to catch her gaze. She looked at me, the defiance still flashing in her eyes, but there was a hint of sadness too. “Forgive me,” I asked.

“For what? Underestimating me? Not acknowledging that I can make informed decisions on my own? Or for trying to shield me from the world as if I were a fragile porcelain doll? Like you are so much better than I am because you’ve been in the modeling world.”

“I realize my protective instinct might have come off as disregard for your feelings and opinions. It was wrong of me to underestimate your abilities.”

Her gaze softened, but she didn’t immediately respond. The doorman opened the door. She put one foot out and then turned back to look at me.

“Just because I’m your assistant doesn’t mean I can’t make decisions for myself,” she finally said. “I need you to understand that.”

“I do understand, Waverly.”

I climbed out of the car behind her, following her across the lobby. She was doing all she could to get away from me.

“Waverly, wait.”

She slapped her hand against the button for the elevator. “I have work to do.”

“I’m your boss. I decide that.”

She shot me a glare. “You are not the boss of me all the time.”

It was such an absurd argument, it was hard not to smile. “I understand that.”

We stepped into the elevator together. She pretended to be interested in a Broadway poster on the wall.

“Well, with the meeting out of the way, would you like to go anywhere special for dinner tonight?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s still early.”

“Let’s do some sightseeing.”

“Shouldn’t we work?” she asked.

“I think we’ve both earned a break, don’t you?” I suggested.

“Maybe,” she relented, but it was clear she was still upset. After a long silence, she finally sighed. “I’d like to see Central Park if that’s okay?”

I nodded, relieved that she hadn’t shut me out completely. “Sounds good to me.”

The rest of the ride was quiet, the tension still palpable. When the elevator doors opened onto our floor, Waverly took off at a brisk pace. I watched her for a moment before following, the gap between us representing more than just physical distance.

“Should we meet up in an hour or two?”

“Better make it two,” she replied. “I still have a job back home I have to keep up on.”

That was a dig at me. “I have some work to do as well.”

“Fine. I’ll see you in a couple of hours.”

I watched her retreating back, her steps confident but with a hint of anger still lingering. I had been wrong to assume that she wouldn’t be capable of making her own decisions. It was my jealousy. And there was some concern she was going to get in over her head and end up getting hurt.

After she went into the room, I turned around and went right back downstairs. I stepped into the lobby and spotted the concierge. I approached him, catching his eye.

“May I assist you with anything, sir?”

“I was wondering if you could arrange for a carriage ride through Central Park in the evening,” I said, thinking that the gesture might help mend things between us.