Page 47 of Until

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 maître 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.

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