We hung up and I caught Raúl’s gaze in the rearview mirror. “Amsterdam and Eighty-second. Close as you can get.”
He nodded.
“Thanks.” I looked out the window as we turned a corner, taking in the city on a sunny Saturday afternoon.
The pace of Manhattan was slower on the weekends, the clothes more casual, and the street vendors more plentiful. Women in sandals and light summer dresses window-shopped leisurely, while men in shorts and T-shirts traveled in groups, taking in the women and discussing whatever it was men discussed. Dogs of all sizes pranced on the ends of leashes, while children in strollers kicked up their heels or napped. An elderly couple shuffled along hand in hand, still lost in the wonder of each other after years of familiarity.
I was speed-dialing Gideon before I realized I’d thought of it.
“Angel,” he answered. “Are you on your way home?”
“Not quite. I’m done at my mom’s, but I’m going to meet Trey.”
“How long will that take?”
“I’m not sure. Not more than an hour, I think. God, I hope he doesn’t tell me he’s done with Cary.”
“How did it go with your mother?”
“I told her we were getting married on the beach by the Outer Banks house.” I paused. “I’m sorry. I should’ve asked you first.”
“I think that’s an excellent idea.” His raspy voice took on the special timbre that told me he was moved.
“She asked me how we’re planning on lodging everyone. I kinda dropped that on you and the wedding planner.”
“That’s fine. We’ll work something out.”
Love for him spread through me in a warm rush. “Thank you.”
“So the big hurdle’s behind you,” he said, understanding as he so often did.
“Well, I don’t know about that. She got all teary about it. You know, she had big dreams that aren’t coming true. I hope she lets them go and gets on board.”
“What about her family? We haven’t talked about making arrangements for them to come.”
I shrugged, then remembered he couldn’t see me. “They’re not invited. The only things I know about them are what I found with a Google search. They disowned my mom when she got pregnant with me, so they’ve never been a part of my life.”
“All right, then,” he said smoothly. “I’ve got a surprise for you when you get home.”
“Oh?” My mood instantly brightened. “Will you give me a hint?”
“Of course not. You’ll have to hurry home if you’re curious.”
I pouted. “Tease.”
“Teases don’t deliver. I do.”
My toes curled at the rough velvet of his voice. “I’ll be home as soon as I can.”
“I’ll be waiting,” he purred.
—
THE traffic near the fair was impossible. Raúl left the Benz in the garage beneath my apartment building, then walked me over to the street fair.
When we were half a block away, I started smelling the food and my mouth watered. Music drifted in the air and when we reached Amsterdam Avenue, I saw that it came from a woman singing on a small stage for a packed audience.
Vendors lined either side of the overflowing street, their wares and heads shielded from the sun by white tent tops. From scarves and hats, to jewelry and art, to fresh produce and multinational eats, there was nothing one could want that couldn’t be found.