Chapter 23
23
HERE’S TO MANY MORE TOGETHER
“ H urry up!” I check the time on my watch.
Six thirty-five.
I had asked Riley to meet me at the garden at seven but I know him. He will show up at six forty-five which means I have, at best, ten more minutes to finish setting up the lights and kick Sam and Lauren to the curb.
The three of us spent the last hour setting up and are now adding the finishing touches to the battery powered bistro lights that now cascades back and forth in a zigzag pattern across the Garden.
“And. Here. We. Go!” Sam switches the on button on the remote and within seconds each bulb flickers to life. Causing the entire Garden to be basked in a warm glow. Another hour when the sun completely sets, the Garden will become the ethereal oasis I picture in my head.
Sam and Lauren gasp at the outcome of our handiwork but are quickly shooed out by a very impatient me. “Guys! Leave! He’ll be here any minute!”
“Well, you’re welcome !” Sam says with a hint of attitude at my perceived ungratefulness.
Lauren, always the level-hea ded one, leans to plant a soft kiss against my cheek. “Have fun babe.”
Two hugs and a wink from Sam later. The garden becomes quiet with the exception of a few sounds of nature around me. I grab the portable speaker from the bag stashed by one of the benches that's storing any leftover supplies and turn on my favorite lo-fi playlist, instrumental popular songs .
Fidgeting at the tulle material, I check my dress to make sure there’s no dirt on me from decorating. I don’t know why I’m so nervous. This isn’t an actual date. Though my nerves don’t seem to understand that.
When I was picking out my outfit for the evening I had over analyzed every article of clothing in my closet. Too dressy, too casual, too revealing, too this or that. I finally settled on a light pink dress that ties around my neck and comes down in a sweetheart neckline with a high low hem.
A dress that can be dressed up with the right accessories and stilettos or could be dressed down with sandals. I opted for the latter since I told Riley to dress casually.
I’m brushing non-existent wrinkles from my dress when I hear the familiar creaking of metal as the Garden gate doors open.
I lift my gaze from my dress and my breath catches in my throat.
The sight of casual Riley makes my weak heart flutter. His hair is tousled in a way that looks like he either spent an hour on it or it fell effortlessly this way. He wears a black crew neck t-shirt that hugs every part of his torso and dark blue jeans, tailored as perfectly as his suits had been. His dressy watch from the other evening is replaced with a black face silver Rolex Datejust to complete his outfit.
I’m not sure when I became so obsessed with watches but the way they look on Riley makes my insides swoon.
Riley looks around, taking in the added decorations to the usual Garden that already feels like it’s pulled from a fairy tale. The smile that appears on his face causes those dormant butterflies to wake and flap their wings in a thunderous motion low in my stomach.
“Happy Birthday!” I exclaim, throwing my arms up in excitement.
“You did all this,” he gestures to the decorations, “for me?”
He glances around to the lights above our heads mimicking fallen stars. The table that isn’t normally there in the middle of the Garden is covered in a white tablecloth with two place settings with silver metal food coverings, and the extra table to the side showcases a small six-inch cake littered with too many birthday candles and various desserts.
“It’s your birthday! I can’t very well not celebrate my fake boyfriend slash real friend’s birthday can I?” I offer him a champagne flute from the nearby table.
Riley takes the glass and follows me towards the beautifully crafted display of sweets.
“I can’t believe you remembered my birthday,” his head dips down to admire the cake, “and set all this up.” His words are soft and filled with disbelief.
“Well, I had Sam and Lauren help set it up so I can’t take all the credit there, and of course I remembered, how could I forget?” I smile at him. “Now come on, the food is going to get cold.”
Weaving my arm through the crook of his, I guide him to the chair and pull one out for him. He eyes me incredulously as he steps out of my grasp to pull the other one out for me. We stand there and stare at each other. Neither want ing to break first.
“Urg!” I groan. “Fine. But only because the food will get cold.” I let go of the chair I’m holding out for him, walk over to where he stands, and take the seat he’s offering. I begin to sit as he pushes the chair against the back of my knees until I’m fully seated.
Riley grabs the folded napkin and places it along my lap before bending at the waist to give me the most gentle kiss on my cheek. “Thank you,” he whispers in my ear.
I swallow the lump in my throat at the way his breath feels brushing against my sensitive skin. “For dinner or for giving into your chivalry?” I ask. My voice was raspier than expected.
“Both.”
Riley takes the seat opposite me. He moves with such ease and grace. Never looking away from me and still being able to sit down, grab the napkin, place it across his lap, grab his glass of champagne, and bring it to his lips all without breaking eye contact. The way he looks at me, it's like he’s staring into my very soul and that look sets every inch of me on fire.
“Hungry?” I choke out with a squeal.
His lips shift upwards in a smirk. “Starved, Princess.”
I gulp. I can feel my cheeks flush at his insinuation.
As if he read my mind. “For dinner.” Riley adds with a sinister grin that turns my thoughts into a muddled mess.
Coughing to clear my throat. “Of course.” I distract myself from making eye contact with him by lifting the metal lids that cover our dinner. “For our main course of the evening,” I say with the attempted enthusiasm of an experienced waitress, “lobster alfredo from the best Italian restaurant in the city–”
“ Sapori Cucina.” The two of us say in unison.
“Yes!” I shriek. Excited that Riley knows what restaurant I’m talking about. “Well! Eat up!”
Riley picks up the fork off the table and notices it’s warm to the touch. He takes his other hand and places it on the table cloth. Also, warm. His eyebrows pinch in confusion.
“Heated table. Who knew?” I shrug. “Apparently outside dinners, not so uncommon. They have these tables to keep food warm but it only has an hour battery life so, like I said, eat up.”
I drop my head down to take my first bite but peek at him through lowered lashes. I can see the look on his face, he looks so happy but just for a brief second, there’s a hint of something else. A hint of sadness that crosses his features.
I lower my fork, “is something wrong? Do you not like seafood?” My voice begins to tremble with nervousness. My thoughts race through all the things that can be wrong.
Not everyone likes seafood.
What if he doesn’t like eating in a Garden? There are a lot of bugs outside chirping in the bushes.
“Amelia.” Riley’s rough voice interrupts my spiral. “I don’t know what’s going on in that head of yours but I can see it moving a million miles an hour.” He smiles, showcasing that swoon worthy dimple. “This. All of this,” he motions around us, “is perfect.”
“Then what is it?”
“The last time I had a birthday this thoughtful was the last one I celebrated before my grandparents died.” His smile widens, like he’s pulling a memory from somewhere deep inside. Buried for over a decade.
Attempting to hold back a tear that’s threatening to spill over from the heartache I feel for him and for his loss, I lift my glass and tilt it towards him. “Well then. Here’s to many more together. Happy Birthday Riley.”
“I can’t.”
“Do it.” I urge incessantly.
“I literally, physically, can not.”
I attempt to pressure Riley into shoving his face into a slice of cake.
No fork.
No hands.
I hold the plate with both hands, inching it towards his face. I begin giggling like a toddler. Tipsy from the alcohol. We had finished almost two bottles of champagne and I had given him a bottle of Macallan 18 for his birthday which he cracked open over the course of dinner.
“It’s your favorite isn’t it?” my face lights up with glee as he unwraps the box of whisky.
“I think it’s every man’s favorite.”
I pick up two rocks glasses off of the cake table and add two sphere ice cubes in them from the ice bucket that's chilling the champagne bottle from earlier.
“You, Princess, have to be the most prepared individual I have ever met.” He looks at the whisky glasses and the two perfectly molded ice cubes for a drink I had prepared for him.
He pours two glasses of amber liquid into both glasses before handing one to me.
“Down the hatch I guess.” Riley snatches me by the wrist before I’m able to gulp down my drink.
“What. Are. You. Doing?”
“It stinks.”
Riley’s jaw drops. Stun ned into silence. Offended beyond belief.
“Amelia,” he pinches the crease between his eyebrows, “you will not drink that disgusting concoction of a margarita like an Icee slushy, but then take this,” waving at the whisky in my hand, “like some cheap cough medicine you need to get down.”
“Fine. But if I throw up from the pace I’m forced to drink this gasoline, you’ll be the one to clean it up.”
I take a sip.
Riley stares at me for any hint of a gag reflex.
I take another sip.
Riley seems pleased with himself watching me drink a perfectly aged whisky the correct way.
Until he sees my head tilt back and the cup follows. I finish the rest of it in one gulp. “It smelled like it tasted.” I gag. “Bad.”
Riley laughs and hands me my glass of champagne instead.
“You do it.” Riley pushes the plate back towards me.
I never back down from a challenge. I bend my head and start nibbling at the cake slice like a drier version of bobbing for apples. The silliness of it all makes me laugh mid bite causing me to spit out frosting. Riley steps back with the swiftness of a panther to avoid the splatter of cake remnants on his clothes.
“I’m shorry,” my apology is muffled by a mouth full of cake and drunken giggles.
Riley can’t help but laugh at the ridiculous sight in front of him. He takes a napkin from a nearby table and starts wiping the frosting off my face.
“I think it’s time to get you home, Princess.” I pout in disappointment against the wiping of the napkin across my skin.
“But your birthday isn’t over yet,” I peer down at my watch, “it’s only nine thirty!”
“Then what would you like to do for the next two and a half hours?”
“It’s your birthday. You tell me and I will make it happen!” I swoosh my hand in a figure eight motion like I’m his personal fairy godmother granting wishes with my imaginary wand.
Riley animatedly taps his lips with his finger like he’s in deep thought. “A movie of my choice.”
I groan in protest.
“You said, I tell. You make it happen.” Mimicking my magic wand.
“I did, didn't I?” Wiping the frown from my face. “Ok, fine. But can it please, at least, be something from this decade? There has to be a movie you like that wasn’t made before color graced our eyes on film.” I look up at him with brown puppy dog eyes.
“I think I can think of one.”
I clap my hands in excitement forgetting I’m holding a plate of cake. Riley swoops down to grab it before the plate shatters on the concrete pavers.
After a five-minute debate on why Riley should not be cleaning his own birthday party, I acquiesced to his help. His argument of “it can be cleaned in half the time” had finally won me over.
We make quick work of pulling down the strings and placing decorations inside the box I hid behind the bench and disassembled the two tables that had the cake and our dinner on them.
Once everything is neatly placed by the gate, Riley looks at me in confusion. “Do we just leave all this here? Or what was your plan exactly? To take twenty trips back to your place by yourself?”
“I have a car you jerk.” Annoyed at his assumption.
Riley’s face scrunches wit h disbelief. “You do?”
“Why would you think I wouldn’t have a car?” I answer with an equal measure of attitude.
“I don’t know actually. I’ve just never seen you drive. You do know how to drive right?” Riley says sarcastically.
I roll my eyes. “Yes. I know how to drive. Very well actually. I just like to walk when I’m in the city or it defeats the whole purpose of living so close to everything.”
I reach for the keys from my purse and click the trunk button to my white four door S.U.V. . The two of us load all of the decorations into the back of my car in under five minutes.
“Did you drive here?” I ask him as I close the trunk.
“Nope. Walked here.”
“Great! We can drop the car off at my place and I can grab a change of comfortable clothes for the movie while we’re there.” Riley nods in agreement, then holds his hand out towards me and I slap it giving him a low five.
“You’re keys, Princess.”
“Right,” I place my keys in his hand before snatching it back and eyeing him suspiciously. “You’ve been drinking too. How do we know you are the safer one to drive?”
“I’ve had two glasses of champagne and half a glass of whisky. You’ve had almost four times that over the course of a couple of hours.”
I huff in defeat. “Fine. Here.” I toss him the keys and make my way to the passenger side as he opens the door for me. We leave the Garden towards my building before heading back to Riley’s place on foot.
“I can’t believe you’re bringing an entire duffle bag.” Riley complains.
“It’s a movie night.” No other explanation required.
“We just had dinner and dessert.” His hand covers his face in exasperation as he leans against dark marble walls in the elevator to his condo.
“You’re right about dinner but the other was a birthday cake. It’s not the same.” I smile at him to distract him from the large bag he offered to carry from my place to his.
I grin at the memory of Riley’s face when I pull my weekender bag from the coat closet.
“Are you planning on moving in with me?” Riley looks at the bag I placed on the ground near my feet.
“Oh, no. This isn’t for clothes.”
“Then what is it for?” he questions curiously.
“Snacks!”
I rummage through my pantry and refrigerator for anything we might crave during our movie. A plethora of sweet and salty options packed the bag to the point of barely zipping. I look back up at Riley, wiping my hands against each other proudly as if I just finished some laborious home building task rather than just stuffing a bag with too many food options.
Regardless, I feel satisfied with my stash. “Ready?”
Riley, slack jawed with disbelief, “ I don’t know how someone so small could possibly eat as much as you do.”