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‘And kind of amazing.’
‘Just kind of?’ I act mock-wounded and she nods with apparent seriousness.
‘Only kind of.’ She winks then, as if in slow motion, and starts to walk once more, down the steps all the way to our courtside seats.
A stadium staffer appears a second later with drinks and food.
Millie looks at me expectantly and, when we’re alone, leans closer. ‘Seriously? Five-star service at a basketball game?’
‘It’s part of the package.’
The game is tight. I watch it with genuine enjoyment for this level of elite athleticism. And, more often than I should, I find myself looking at Millie. My eyes flick to her almost like a reflex. Is she having fun? Or is she bored?
Definitely not the latter. She’s on the edge of her seat for much of the game and it’s only at the end of full time that she wraps her hand around my forearm, digging her nails in. ‘Look,’ she whispers out of the corner of her mouth—a mouth I’ve long ago given up trying not to fantasise about. ‘That’s Penelope Ray!’
She points to the chart-topping singer. ‘And her husband.’
Millie goes pale, turning her huge eyes to me. ‘Oh. My. God.’
I lean closer. ‘I know, right? More celebrities.’
She punches my shoulder and I laugh, wrapping an arm around her shoulder, leaning back in my seat for the last few minutes of the game.
By the time it’s over, I’m pretty fucking happy. Life doesn’t get much better than this. The Garden for a world-class game, with a date who is about as uncomplicated and...fun...as it gets.
Yeah, this is the life. But I’m done with being tour guide now. I want Millie back in the apartment as soon as we can manage it. Preferably naked. Maybe wearing those heels she had on last night...
Unfortunately, getting out of the Garden isn’t as easy as getting in, even in the VIP seats. It takes about twenty minutes to snake our way to the door and by then dusk is starting to fall.
‘Oh, Michael,’ she gushes, reaching for my hand almost on instinct now. ‘Look how pretty everything is.’
Again, I see it through her eyes and admit to a certain degree of magic. ‘Want to pay a visit to Lady Liberty?’ The offer surprises me as much as it does her. What happened to naked-except-for-stilettos Millie back in my penthouse?
When she looks at me, I swear her eyes are moist, like she’s fighting tears. She nods and smiles, an unsteady smile.
I lift a hand, hailing a cab. One stops almost immediately. It’s a twenty-minute drive to the tip of Manhattan. He pulls over near the Skyscraper Museum and I take Millie’s hand without thinking, leading her through Wagner Park towards the water.
Millie gasps when she sees her, the statue atop Ellis Island, the statue with such a long and proud history, greeting all those who come to America by boat, seeking a better life and brighter future. A fresh start.
We gaze upon her side by side, both silent for a long time.
‘I...’
She looks up at me shyly
and even though she’s smiling I’m completely serious.
‘What is it, Millie?’
‘It’s silly, but...’
‘But?’
‘Would you take my photo?’ She lifts her phone out. ‘For my book.’
‘Book?’ I take her phone and step back, waiting for her to explain.
‘You know, the book of everything I’ve seen and done.’
