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“She is definitely a lucky girl.”
My phone buzzes in my pocket and I see I got a text from Dillon.
“They are pulling up now,” I mutter, rushing back off the boat and up the dock stairs. I'm excited to see her, my heart racing like a little boy. This really is pretty cool. I can't wait to see her face.
Dillon holds the door open for, taking her hand and helping her from the car. When she sees me, her eyes quickly look over my shoulder and scan the river, widening dramatically. Her lips form of perfect O of surprise.
Then she glances back at Dillon, winking at him and rolling her eyes as if to say, oh you shouldn't have.
She's wearing a blue dress that ties at the waist and has a waterfall of flowy fabric that swirls around her ankles. A shawl is knotted casually over her shoulders, and her hair is tucked into a secure style. She thought of everything from the temperature to the wind.
That's my girl.
“Your chariot awaits,” I smile, cursing myself for saying something so absolutely stupid right off the bat. I offer her my elbow and she takes it graciously, squeezing my bicep.
“I almost can't believe we’re doing this!” she whispers as I guide her down the stairs.
Me neither.
She shakes Perez’s hand and we get underway, gliding along the pink toned river, waving periodically to the throngs of onlookers who hang over the railings and wave and hoot at us. Dillon was right, this is a significant thing. There have to be three or four thousand people gathered on the bridge, like we are in a parade. But we are the only boat on the river, so this must be all for us.
“Champagne?” I hear Dillon ask behind me and the characteristic pop of the cork.
“Don't mind if I do,” Perez sighs, taking the first glass and practically chugging it before holding it out again for a refill immediately. “Oh my stars, that is good!”
I slide behind Bella, angling her and nudging her subtly toward the front of the boat. We don't really have to talk to Perez. Dillon can handle that. But Dillon told me that I needed her to be in position for the second part of our cruise.
She holds her champagne flute up, clinking the rim against mine and taking a slow sip. “This really is quite delicious,” she says slyly, rolling her eyes as though she understands just how ridiculous our guest is.
“I'm really glad you like it,” I answer truthfully. My heart is beating fast. Hers is too, I see, though she has that same calm exterior like always. Or maybe I'm mistaken, maybe it's just the vibrations of the boat motor. Maybe it's a slight chill from the breeze that is waving the shiny tendrils of her hair out behind her.
I slide an arm around her shoulders and draw her closer to me. “Are you cold?”
“I'm perfect,” she sighs.
“You really are, you know,” I answer.
“Well, I am a fairytale princess, after all,” she quips, a little sarcastically.
“No, I really mean it. And I don't mean the fake parts, or the showy parts. I mean, like… you,” I mutter, stumbling over my words and feeling stupid as they come out. “I mean, what I know of you anyway. I'm sure there's more.”
She shrugs shyly, glancing away, taking a sip of champagne. “No, I think that what you see of me is probably all there is.”
I want to laugh at that. “Bella, I think you may be the most complicated person I ever met,” I confess. “And I've met a lot of people people. A lot of really weird people.”
“Ha!” she laughs, the sound bouncing musically over the water. “I might be weird. I do spend a lot of time by myself, talking to myself. I think that's like the definition of weird or something.”
“I suppose it is.”
Suddenly it feels like a first date all over again. I'm awkward and unsure, wanting to ask her about herself, not knowing how to put the words together. I have that strange urge to tell her everything about me, to reveal something no matter how stupid it is, just to keep her talking. I just want to be close to her in even minute ways.
“What about you?” she asks me suddenly, squinting, looking up and then away.
“Me? Well I think we've already established I am pretty weird too.”
She laughs again, a sound I don't think I could ever get tired of hearing. “Okay, then… tell me something else about yourself.”
“Like what?”
