“It’s okay?” she asks, smoothing her dress with her hand.
“More than okay.” I wrap my arm around her and bring her in for a kiss, a light but sweet scent about her. “You look stunning.”
She smiles. “Well, I had to go shopping because I don’t exactly have the clothes for this stuff.” She nods up toward the top of the building we’re entering. “I looked at it online and it’s like, super fancy.”
“It’s not super fancy,” I say. I take her hand and lead her inside to the elevators. “But it is elegant.”
“I hope I know which fork to use,” she says.
I push the button for the fifty-second floor. We’re alone, and Emily looks more beautiful than ever, so of course I can’t help but make use of the ride. I press her up against the wall and our mouths come together. The taste of her is better than anything that could possibly be on the restaurant’s menu, I am sure of it. I slide my hands over her hips as she pulls my body closer to hers. God, how will I make it through dinner?
The elevator slows and we both pull back. Emily quickly straightens her dress and wipes around her mouth.
“Now I have to go to the ladies room to fix myself back up,” she says.
“You don’t need it,” I say, kissing her cheek as we arrive at the host stand.
“Good evening, Mr. Jackson,” the woman says. “If you’re ready we can seat you now.”
“Come on,” I tell Emily, taking her hand. “You look perfect.”
Her eyes are darting around the space, taking it all in. “I guess it’s dark enough that you can’t see if my face is all red now.”
I didn’t think Emily was the type to really worry about this stuff, but as we walk across the restaurant at the top of the Prudential Center and overlooking all of Boston, she looks a bit self-conscious.
“This view is amazing,” Emily says once we’re seated at a round table in a quiet corner near the window. I love watching her see and do things for the first time. It’s not just the wonder in her eyes, but the appreciation of what she’s seeing. It’s something I have lost over the years. I’m so used to certain things, like the view from the top of one of the tallest buildings in Boston. I’ve been in this restaurant more times than I can count, for business luncheons and a date or two over the years.
Emily turns to me, her face bright with childish excitement. “Look! You’re not looking!”
“I’m looking.”
She rolls her eyes. Pointing dramatically at the window she demands, “There.”
“Give me your hand first,” I say. Her face softened as she rests her hand on the table and I take it in mine. We look out at the view, the night darkening into rich blues and yellow, the lights of the city beginning to sparkle.
As the courses begin rolling in and we’re finishing our first bottle of champagne, Emily says, “This is all too much. You didn’t have to do this.”
“Do what?” I ask.
She motions around the room. “It’s so fancy! You could have taken me to a pizza joint and I would have been happy.”
“Would you rather have gone to a pizza place?” Earlier in the evening she’d kept looking around the room, and not at the beauty of the décor but I think at the other women and how they were dressed. She kept fussing with the straps on her dress, or tugging down the hem. When the salad was served she waited for me to pick up the proper fork before picking up her own.
“No,” she says. “I mean, I know this amazing place in the South End but good pizza really can’t compare to these scallops. They melt in my mouth like butter.”
“One thing you can be sure of,” I say, “is that when you’re with me, you’ll always eat well.”
“So what if we want a late-night snack?” she asks. “Are we going to come back up here?”
“They have a late-night menu in the lounge,” I say.
She laughs and shakes her head. “You do not live in the real world.”
“Sure I do. It’s just an alternate version.”
“Exactly,” she says. She takes a sip of her champagne, watching me closely. “Give me some of that lobster.”
“Whatever you want,” I say, feeding it to her, watching her wrap her lips around the fork just she did at Prime & Tender. “Admit it. You like this world.”
She savors the lobster for a moment—it’s truly the best I’ve ever had, so tender and fresh.
“This is nice, don’t get me wrong,” she says. “But this all the time? It’s unnecessary.”