Total pages in book: 142
Estimated words: 137205 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 686(@200wpm)___ 549(@250wpm)___ 457(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 137205 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 686(@200wpm)___ 549(@250wpm)___ 457(@300wpm)
“The city looks good in the dark,” Calvin remarks. “I’m sure it still made quite an impression.”
I nod my agreement. “For me, yes. My mom is also a more fearful person. One of the reasons she never wanted to come to the city is that she was convinced it was a dangerous place with muggers and bad guys around every corner. During the day she was okay with braving the city just the two of us, but at night, she was afraid to walk around in the dark.”
“Your father didn’t come?” he asks conversationally.
I shake my head. “He wasn’t around. He moved to Chicago when my mom was still pregnant with me. Anyway,” I say, glancing across the street before we pass it, “our hotel was in Times Square. It was dark, but we were starving and we needed to have dinner. I wanted to go there,” I say, pointing to a second story building with fire engine red windows and Playwright Restaurant engraved on the sign hanging above them. “No particular reason, I just liked the name and thought it looked cool from the street. But as soon as we got inside and my mom saw the prices on the menu, her whole demeanor changed. Since she was a single mom, we always lived on a pretty tight budget. I wasn’t even sure where she found the money for a spontaneous weekend trip. I was ecstatic when I realized we were actually staying in the city because I figured she would want to stay outside the city to save money. The restaurant isn’t even that expensive, it’s pretty reasonable by New York City standards, but to her it was a lot and she had already splurged on the hotel. My mom’s a frugal woman; growing up, she always made me order water at restaurants because god forbid she have to overpay for a fountain drink. But I knew she wouldn’t tell me no even if she wasn’t comfortable with the prices because this trip was supposed to cheer me up, you know?”
He smiles faintly. He doesn’t say anything, but I think I see where this is going is written all across his handsome face.
“So, I told her I changed my mind and we skipped out before the waitress came to take our order. Pizza by the slice seemed much more affordable, so we popped into Ray’s for a couple of slices instead.”
“Did you ever get to go?” he asks, nodding toward the restaurant.
I nod. “Yep. Charity took me there for dinner and drinks for my birthday a couple of years ago, then we went to see Wicked.”
“Good show.”
“Great show,” I agree.
“Did you and your mom have a good trip?”
I nod. “We did. We hit the M&M store,” I say, gesturing across the street when we’re about to pass it. “The Hershey store, the Disney store. Toys R Us was here back then, so we went there, too. She had sticker shock everywhere we went, though. New York isn’t the most budget-friendly city in the world.”
“No,” he agrees, smiling faintly.
“I loved it, though. The feeling of anonymity in this crazy busy city. It was like no matter how big my problems were back home, this place was so big it would eclipse them. It felt like I could escape it, and escape was this very tangible place.” I shake my head, my eyes probably twinkling with fondness. “I knew I had to live here someday. I didn’t know how I would given the cost of living here, but I was determined to make it happen.”
“And you did.”
“And I did.” I smile, looking over at him. “What about you? Have you lived in New York all your life?”
“Not quite. My parents live in the suburbs in Connecticut, but close enough. We made trips into the city pretty regularly. I always knew I would end up living here as my primary residence, but I have vacation homes in other places.”
“Like where?”
“Northern Italy.” He glances at me. “I have a small place there in Bellagio, right on Lake Como. It’s a quiet town. It was the first vacation home I bought. By my standards, it’s a pretty modest flat, but it has incredible views. It’s a great place to decompress and enjoy a slower pace when you need it.”
“Mm, sounds nice. I’ve never been to Italy, but I’d love to go someday.”
He reaches around and grabs my waist, pulling me against him. “I’ll take you. We won’t stay at my place for your first trip, though. Maybe part of it, but I’ll take you to one of the nicer resorts. There’s a place you’d love in Cernobbio, it’s called Villa d'Este. It used to be a royal residence, so it’s obviously very nice. Beautiful grounds. I always thought if I ever got married, it would probably be there.”