Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 91182 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91182 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
I love that she just told me all that. It doesn’t seem like a lot, but even with her not thrilled with me, she’s still opening up to me.
“There has to be one thing you enjoy doing in this city,” I say.
“People watching.” She laughs. “Adrianna and I would go to Washington State Park and people watch for hours.” Her grin lights up her face.
“Then let’s go people watch.” I take her hand in mine.
“It’s too cold!” She laughs some more.
“I have an idea.” Still holding her hand, I pull her down the street to flag a cab. When I ran after her earlier, it was quicker to take a cab than my own car. Driving your own vehicle in New York is only done when necessary.
I pull up the place I’m going to take her to on my GPS and get the address, then I give it to the driver. About ten minutes later, we’re getting out in front of Seward Park. Across the street is one of my favorite coffee shops. We enter the shop and Giselle eyes me quizzically.
“Sit down and I’ll get us coffee.” I point toward the tables that are lined up along the big, open window, and Giselle smiles.
The coffee shop is small, but the entire front is made up of one giant window, where you can drink your coffee and, as Giselle said, people watch. I don’t sit in the coffee shop often, as I get recognized when I’m out, but I grab coffee from here a lot. Today, though, Giselle and I will people watch.
After I order two lattes and a couple pastries, I bring everything over to the table Giselle found. She’s staring out the window with her chin in her hand. The happy look on her face has me wanting to purchase this fucking coffee shop so she can stare out the window like this for the rest of her life. But something tells me if I want to stay on her good side, that’s not the way to do it.
I hand her a latte and a pastry, and she thanks me. When she takes a sip, her face lights up. “This is delicious.” We stare out the window for several minutes, drinking our coffees and eating our pastries. When she lets out a cute giggle, I look around to see what has her laughing.
“What are you looking at?” I ask when I don’t see anything out of the norm.
“I’m watching those kids over there.” She points to a bench directly across the street. It’s facing the park. There’s a guy and a girl sitting next to each other. It’s hard to tell how old they are, but from their side-profiles, they’re at least in their teens. The guy’s arm is resting on the back of the bench, but every few seconds he lifts it in an attempt to put his arm around her.
Giselle giggles again. “Guys act so tough, yet you place them in front of a pretty girl and they get scared and turn to mush.” She gives me a playful side-eye, and that’s when I notice that my arm is halfway over her chair. I laugh along with her. Then, gripping her shoulder, I pull her into my side.
“I’m manly enough to admit I might turn into mush around you, but I’m not scared.” Giselle rolls her eyes, but as she turns back to watch the couple, I see a small smile splayed upon her lips.
We watch the couple for a few minutes, and the kid finally gets enough guts to slink his arm around the girl. She turns toward him, and you can see it from a mile away, he’s going to go in for a kiss. Completely invested in this couple, Giselle leans in closer to the window. “It’s like watching a love story play out,” she murmurs. “Will he do it? Will he kiss her? Will she let him? Will she kiss him back?”
Giselle’s grin widens as the kid leans in. His lips press against hers and she doesn’t back away. “Whoop!” Giselle cheers like she’s watching a football game and the receiver just scored a touchdown. When she glances around her, she remembers she’s in a quiet coffee shop. She cringes slightly, but then goes back to watching the couple make out.
“Oh! Look!” She smacks my chest to get my attention, and I realize I’ve been watching her the past few minutes. “It’s a horse drawn carriage!”
“It’s like thirty-five degrees outside,” I point out.
“So what! It’s romantic, and they’re bundled up in blankets.” She sighs. “I should take a picture to show Olivia. It looks like Cinderella. She could do this for her wedding.” She snaps a photo and sends it to her friend. “I wonder if he’s going to propose, or maybe it’s just a romantic evening out.”