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* * *
We get out of the car.
“Meet you back here in two hours,” I tell the driver.
“Yes, sir,” he answers and pulls out.
“I haven’t had a chance to visit Central Park yet,” Amber says. “This is nice.”
“It is.” I clasp her hand and walk.
We stroll on. The foot traffic this time of day is mostly couples, and they all seem so lovestruck. Holding hands. Sneaking glances. Stealing kisses. I can’t help myself. I stop and gaze into Amber’s eyes. Plant one on her. Her lips are soft and sensual. Her tongue magical.
She wraps her arms around my neck.
I bring my hands to the small of her back.
The world disappears. Just her and I.
“Get a fuckin’ room, man,” says some smart-ass in a group of boys.
His buddies chuckle, and Amber pushes away, embarrassed.
“I’m sorry,” I tell her. “Couldn’t help myself.”
“That’s all right.”
I give the miscreants a wave, and Amber and I move again. Before long, we reach our destination.
“Tavern On The Green.” Amber can barely contain herself. “Wow.”
We’re escorted to an outdoor table.
The waiter shows up and asks, “Would you care for anything to drink?”
“A glass of Cabernet for me,” I answer. “Would you like one, Amber?”
“Water for me, please.”
“You sure?”
“I have work tomorrow, and I want to be at my best. This job is important to me. Do you understand?”
“Of course.” I look at the waiter. “Two waters.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I know.” I motion for the waiter to be on his way.
Amber takes in her surroundings. Lights are strung everywhere. Candles on tables. Trees and shrubs.
She smiles and shakes her head. “Thanks for bringing me here.”
I reach across the table and take her hand. “Thanks for coming.”
The waiter brings us water and takes our order. We’ll start with chopped vegetable salad and roasted garlic shrimp. The main course for me is a dry-aged NY sirloin with a side of lumpy mashed potatoes. Amber orders braised short ribs and shoestring fries.
“Very well.” The waiter heads for the kitchen.
