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6
Bruce
It’s a gorgeous summer night, and a warm breeze ruffles my hair as the golden hour approaches. I race down Fifth Avenue in my convertible, the top down and the sound of the engine drowning out everything else. I’m free of obligations until Monday, and I’m sure I’ll get an earful from my CFO, but it’s worth it because he can juggle numbers, but he can’t make me feel the way Annemarie does. The sweet girl and I have been seeing each other ever since our fateful night at the Roosevelt, and goddamn, but life is good.
As I cruise toward Union Square, my mind drifts to the time I’ve been spending with Annemarie. I have to admit, I was a little apprehensive when I first caught sight of her at the bar, because what are the chances? But after a few minutes of conversation, we relaxed around one another, and that magical connection was still there. It blows me away. The spark didn’t dim in two years; if anything, it’s flamed into a bonfire, and the curvy girl satisfies me in bed like no other woman. But now, all I want is to make up for lost time.
I pull over on the west side of Union Square, driving slowly as I glance around for my date. Annemarie was the one who asked to meet here, although I told her I would be happy to come to her apartment. But she said no, and I can sort-of understand why. Even making good money, an escort likely doesn’t earn enough to afford a swanky place. Still, part of me is curious…
My train of thought stops short when I see her standing by one of the benches. She’s clothed in a deep pink knee-length dress, the kind with a slit up the side, and it brings out the color in her rosy cheeks even in the darkening light. Her hair is tied up on her head, that elegant, swan-like neck invitingly on display. I want to cover it in kisses and bite marks, and uncaring of traffic, I pull over and jump out of the car before yanking her into my arms.
“You’re gorgeous,” I breathe in her ear.
Annemarie smiles. “Thank you,” she giggles, “but we have to get going because the other drivers are getting mad,” she says, gesturing to the line of traffic piling up behind me. With that, we hop into the car and I rev the engine before pulling away from the curb.
“So where are we going?” the pretty girl asks.
“You’ll see,” I reply, smiling.
Her eyes brighten as we race into the expensive Meatpacking district and make our way to La Pesca, one of the best seafood restaurants in the entire city. “You’re kidding,” Annemarie breathes as we step out and I hand my keys to the valet. “How did you get a reservation? This place has three Michelin Stars! The waiting list is at least six months out!”
I grin. “Let’s just say the Crown name can make a lot of things happen around New York,” I reply with a chuckle. Then, I place my hand on the small of her back and escort her inside.
The maitre d’ smiles and does a little bow when he catches sight of me. “It’s wonderful to see you again, Mr. Crown. Welcome. I see you’ve brought a lady friend.”
“Yes indeed,” I say as we’re led to a prime table by the bay windows. There’s a gorgeous view of the Hudson River and the New Jersey skyline from our seats, the cityscape already beginning to glow in the evening twilight.
“You’re one lucky girl,” the maitre d’ says, winking at Annemarie, who flushes a little more brightly. She’s gorgeous and I’m not surprised the elderly man is dazzled.
We take a seat, and Annemarie looks around in awe as she takes in the decor. Dangling pendant lamps hang from the ceiling, soft piano music fills the air, and there are unbelievably delicious smells coming from the kitchen. Her mouth falls open when she glances at the menu. “Bruce,” she breathes, “this is too much.”
“It’s not,” I tell her. “Nothing could be too much for you, honey.” She looks at me with so much sweetness and gratitude that I want to sweep her into my arms again and ditch this place.
But at that moment, the sommelier arrives to take our drink orders, and I ask for a bottle of their best champagne. The sommelier bobbles his head with excitement before rushing away. Then, the server arrives and I order us lobster with a caviar starter. While we wait for our food, we chat about everything from the warm weather to what Annemarie wants to do when she gets her degree. It’s amazing how easily it is for us to talk, even though we haven’t known each other for very long. Somehow, it’s like the past two years never even happened, and we’re picking up where we left off - the way we should have all along.
