the light chuckle. Why does he have to be so alluring? This is only a one-day Beth spontaneity thing. Tomorrow, I’ll be back to Elizabeth and resume my honeymoon all by myself. I need to remember that.
“You’re asking me out on a date?”
“Oh, um, if that’s not something you’d want—”
“I want that very much. I’ll make a few calls to rearrange my schedule.” He pulls his phone from his jacket pocket. “What time?”
Surprised to hear this, I’m quick to let him off the hook. “There’s no pressure. If you already have plans—”
His eyes dart from the phone screen to me, and he says, “I’d much rather spend time with you. I can reschedule everything else.”
I’m sure I look like a fool with my too big for my face grin that I can’t contain, but who cares. He’s the twist I didn’t see coming. Who would have thought I’d have a date with another man on my honeymoon? Twisty. Twisty.
Snapping my fingers, I ask, “Just like that? Your wish is a command?”
“Yes,” he replies, not missing a beat.
I finish my wine and tilt my head to the side. “What is it like to hold so much power in your hands?”
“Incredible.” Not one apologetic syllable is uttered from this man. When I think about it, he’s not made apologies to take calls or leave me waiting while he tends to someone we’ve run into. There have been no excuses used to cut our time short. Quite the opposite, he keeps extending our time, offering arms of accompaniment through museums and strolls down romantic avenues.
He’s nothing like . . . I refuse to say his name, preferring not to even think about him while spending time with Rob. Exhaling in relief, I sink back in my chair. “I’m so glad you didn’t say anything about your ego. My fian—” It’s a tough habit to break, but I’m determined to. “I was always a third wheel to my ex’s ego. It’s nice not to fight for attention.”
Rob pays and it’s picked up before I can calculate my share. “I’m sorry. I’m slow with figuring out the money. What’s my share?”
This time, his smile is gentle. “I covered it, if that’s all right?”
“Thank you. That was very kind.”
“You’re welcome. Are you ready?”
I stand. “I’m ready, but don’t you need your change?”
“No, I’m good.” He stands and comes around, holding my coat so I can slip it back on. On the sidewalk, he says, “It’s warmer than usual.”
“I’ve been hoping for snow.”
“It looks good for tonight. What time is the reservation?”
“Eight o’clock.”
“Should I meet you there, or can I pick you up?”
Holding my purse in my hands, I rock back on my heels. The late afternoon sun dips behind the buildings, and a cool breeze blows along the avenue. Thinking about the outfit I have packed for tonight, I know I’ll need extra layers. “I’ll meet you there.”
With the phone poised in his hand, ready to type, he asks, “What’s the name of the restaurant?”
A sudden embarrassment creeps through my veins, and I bite my lip. This was my plan, even . . . well, he made fun of me, calling me a tourist. I shrugged because I am a tourist here. But what Rob thinks matters to me. It shouldn’t after half a day at best spent together, but it does. “Jules Verne,” I mutter under my breath.
When I sneakily peer up at him, I find him smiling at me again. “It has a beautiful view of the city at night. I look forward to sharing it with you this evening.”
Now I’m smiling. “Thank you for not mocking me.”
We start walking, and I glance ahead, seeing a row of cabs a few doors down. We walk toward the one idling at the front, and he opens the door. “Will you meet me under the Eiffel Tower, say seven thirty?”
I’m sure my eyes are lit up like the Iron Lady at night. “I’d love to.”
He opens the door wider, allowing me to slip inside the back of the cab. Resting his arm on the top of the door, he says, “I’ll see you tonight, Beth.”
“I’ll see you tonight under the Eiffel Tower.” I add the end just because everything about the landmark gives me romanticized feelings. He shuts the door but opens the front to hand the driver money. They speak too fast for me to translate, but I do pick up the name of the avenue where I’m staying. Glancing over the headrest, Rob says,