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“Is something wrong sir?” An usher stepped into our balcony. “I heard a disturbance.”
“A disturbance?” I looked at Aubrey then back at him. “No, I don’t think there was one here.”
“Are you sure?” he asked concerned. “What about you, Miss? Are you okay?”
“Yes sir.” Aubrey nodded, attempting to look as normal as possible. “I’m more than fine.”
He walked away, and within seconds, she seemingly transformed into the Aubrey I remembered from months ago, the one that was incapable of not asking questions.
Not that I minded, though.
By the first intermission she’d asked all that was possible about the play and leaned against me, whispering, “This is perfect, Andrew…Thank you.” And then she didn’t speak again until the show ended two hours later.
“The lead was amazing,” she said as the curtains closed. “I really felt all of his emotions in that last scene…”
“Me too.” I helped her into her coat. “Do you have a curfew? Any time that I need to get you back home?”
“I’m twenty two years old.”
“I’m well aware.” I rolled my eyes. “I found that out the hard way, thank you. I meant, do you have a few more hours to spend with me or do you have to get up early?”
“Not until the afternoon…”
“Good.” I led her out of the theater and signaled to the town-car driver across the street. “I want to take you somewhere else. Can I?”
“I would love that…”
I helped her into the town car and after I slid inside, she moved into my lap—pressing her lips against mine, whispering thanks once again.
Holding her close, I gave her a brief tour of my past as we drove through the city—grateful that the driver avoided driving by my former firm.
I showed her my favorite restaurants, my favorite places to relax, and a few places I would like to take her to before I left.
“We’ve arrived at the Waldorf Astoria, Mr. Hamilton.” The driver looked at us through the rearview mirror. “Will this be the final stop for the night?”
“Yes,” I said, noticing Aubrey narrowing her eyes at me.
“I thought you said—”
“Relax…” I kissed her forehead. “This is where I’ve been living since I flew here.”
“Oh…”
I took her hand and walked her through the lobby and onto the elevator that led to the roof.
Opening the doors, I noticed everything was set up exactly as I asked: A lone white clothed table sat in front of a dancing fire, soft lights hung in waves across the trellis, and through the falling snow, the words “I’m sorry” twinkled against the building directly across from us.
“This is so beautiful, Andrew…” she said, looking around. “When did you change your mind about dinner?”
“I didn’t.” I pulled out her chair and uncovered the platter of chocolate and vanilla covered strawberries. “It’s dessert.”
“Did you think of all this yourself?”
“I did.” I sat next to her and put my arms around her shoulders.
“You know,” she said, “typically on a date the two people sit across from each other.”
