15. Ryan

CHAPTER 15

Ryan

C arina and I had been dating for several weeks. And in that time, I always chose more low-key dates and restaurants because I didn't want to be recognized.

I hated continuing the lie, but it never seemed like the right time to tell her the truth.

I felt a lot of guilt about it, and I had no doubt that Carina wasn't interested in money. But the ruse had gone on for so long that I didn't know how to stop it.

It had been a month since we started dating, and I wanted to do something special for her.

I didn't tell her what the plan was, but I asked her to dress warmly.

Valentine's Day is approaching, and it coincides with our one-month dating anniversary. Even though she still thinks I'm a plumber and not a billionaire, my plan is to go all out.

When I pick her up, she's dressed in jeans that hug her curves, a sweater, boots, and a jacket. She could wear a grocery bag and still look amazing.

"Where are we going?" she asks as I open the car door for her.

"It's a surprise."

I'm so excited about this date that I didn't say a word during our drive. I want this to be something over the top, something she'll never forget.

She stares out the window as I drive, as if she knows I'm not going to give her any clues.

We follow FDR Drive along the East River until I take a quick exit near an open field. As soon as she gets out of the car, she sees the helicopter.

"Is that for us?" she asks, sitting up higher in her seat.

I nod, happy with the excitement on her face.

"Are you serious? We're going on a helicopter ride? That's on my bucket list!"

She gets out of the car, claps her hands, and hops excitedly before we walk to the helicopter pad.

The pilot gives us each a pair of noise-canceling headphones so we can hear him once we're in the air and goes over several rules.

With our headphones on and strapped into our seats, we take off into the air.

Carina keeps one hand tightly wrapped around mine as the helicopter soars over the city. She takes it all in, looking out the open door at the twinkling lights of the buildings and cars below. The pilot points out several landmarks, such as Central Park, the Guggenheim, and the Empire State Building.

The twenty-minute ride is over before we know it, and the helicopter touches down again, this time on the top of a building. She turns to look at me, confused.

"How are we getting back to your car?" she asks.

"We don't have to worry about that yet," I say.

As we exit the helicopter, a man in a formal tuxedo approaches us with glasses of champagne. We each take a glass.

"This way, please," he says.

He leads the way into a stairwell as the helicopter takes off. We follow him down a flight of steps, then through a door, and down a long, elegantly carpeted hallway that opens up to a glass-enclosed viewing area high above the city.

The room is covered in twinkle lights, and in the middle is a small table with a white linen tablecloth. Carina walks to the glass, looks out, and lets out a small gasp.

"Everything looks so beautiful from here," she says. "I can't believe this, Ryan. Look at this view!"

The ma?tre d' walks over to us again and motions to the table. As we sit down he hands us each a folded napkin. We place the napkins on our lap while another server delivers the first course, Caesar salad.

She leans in close and whispers. "Where are the menus?"

I grin, hoping I did the right thing by choosing her favorite foods for the meal.

"No menu. I selected everything already," I say.

"Well, I love Caesar salad, so so far, so good," she says before taking a bite.

The waiter drops off a basket of fresh focaccia, and she grabs a piece and takes a bite.

"You know I can't resist bread," she says. "And this is so good I could just eat this all night." She breaks off a piece and holds it up to my lips for a taste. "If you want more, you'd better make sure to grab it before I eat everything." She laughs, but then her eyes widen as the next course is delivered to the table.

"Lobster bisque!" she says before happily taking a sip from a spoon.

The rest of the meal continues, and Carina is surprised by each course.

"This is all really amazing, Ryan, thank you."

"You're welcome," I say as I lean in and kiss her. "I wanted to do something special for you so you can see how special this past month has been to me."

She smiles, but there's a sadness to her that I can't help but notice.

The ma?tre d' arrives at our table once again.

"Sir," he says. "I hate to interrupt, but I was wondering if you are ready for dessert."

I turn to Carina, and she smiles.

"Yes, we are ready for dessert. What are we having?"

The ma?tre d' snaps his fingers, and another waiter rolls out a cart with a small stovetop and bowls of brown sugar, rum, bananas, butter, cinnamon, banana liqueur, and vanilla ice cream.

"Bananas foster? When did I tell you about that?" she asks as the waiter ignites the alcohol.

I laugh. "I took a guess. I was looking through one of your cookbooks and saw that one of them has a broken spine that opened onto Bananas Foster. The big bookmark was also a giveaway."

I spoon a mixture of the syrup, banana, and ice cream and hold it up to her. She takes the spoon into her mouth and savors the flavors.

"Mmmm, that's perfect."

"One more thing," I say as I point toward the view of the river.

Fireworks light up the sky over the river. Carina turns to me, her eyes as wide as saucers.

"Did you do that too?" she asks.

"Yes, I did. It's too much, isn't it?"

"I don't know. Maybe. But it's amazing. Everything about tonight has been amazing. There aren't even any other people here. It must've cost you a fortune. You didn't have to do this for me."

"I didn't do it for you; I did it for us. Happy one-month anniversary," I say as I wrap my arms around her.

"Well, if this is what you do for one month, what are you doing for a year?" she laughs.

"I guess we'll just have to find out."