Page 85 of Billion Dollar Vow

“And you have to do it right now?” I laugh, feeling the heat between us, but also the sweetness of the moment.

“Yes.” He grins, nodding. “Now go get ready. I’ll meet you in the kitchen.”

I huff playfully, turning away as I head up the stairs. As I climb, I feel like I’m floating. I pull on a pair of blue jeans, slip into my Chucks, tug a long-sleeve white top over my head, and then a light blue sweater for warmth. Grabbing my purse, I head back down. I don’t bother with makeup and my hair’s looking surprisingly good today, so I leave it as it is.

When I reach the kitchen, Oliver’s tapping on his phone, but he stops as soon as I walk in, his eyes lighting up with a smile. “Ready?”

I nod, excitement bubbling inside me. “Where are we going? It’s eight o'clock at night.”

He flashes me a mischievous grin and opens the front door for me. I walk outside and climb inside the waiting car, trying to suppress my curiosity. I’ve always been the type to demand answers immediately, but there’s something sweet about letting him surprise me.

“You’ll have to wait and see,” he teases, squeezing my hand.

“Damn it,” I mutter under my breath, but the smile on my face betrays my excitement.

“We’re at stop one anyway,” he says, his voice full of anticipation.

The car comes to a stop. I glance out the window, my breath catching in my throat. We’re parked in front of Hudson Yards Vessel, the striking, honeycomb-like structure of bronze-colored steel and concrete glowing under the city lights.

“Are we going to climb the stairs?” I ask, trying to calculate how many flights it has. Sixteen stories… This could be a workout.

“No.” He chuckles. “We’re doing an art scavenger hunt.”

I blink. “Are you kidding?”

He shakes his head, a warm smile spreading across his face. “No. I want to make up for lost time, make new happy memories with you.”

My heart swells with gratitude as I lean in and kiss him.

“Okay, photo time,” he says, snapping a shot of the Vessel from an angle, the light playing off the metal. Then he pulls me into a selfie, our bodies close, my head resting on his chest as we hug each other tight.

“Where to next?” I ask.

“I promise we’re almost there.” His hand slips into mine as we walk down the sidewalk.

We stroll side by side, my heart racing with each step, until we reach the High Line. It’s over a mile-long elevated park that runs from Hudson Yards to the Meatpacking District, and as we wander along, I am in awe of the rotating art installations.

We pause in front of a large sculpture, and I ask a passerby to take our photo. As we stand there, the sound of an interactive audio installation suddenly bursts to life.

“That scared the daylights out of me.” I laugh, my heart still pounding.

“Look over there,” he says, motioning toward a vibrant video art display on a nearby building. The colors pulse and shift across the screen, almost alive in the night, glowing against the dark backdrop of the city.

“The next stop is Chelsea to explore the galleries,” he says, glancing at his watch. “I know they’re closed at this time of night, but we can peer in the windows. The lighting hits the artwork differently at night. Which one do you want to check out?” he asks.

He doesn’t even need to list them. I already know the major ones, and out of them all, there's one I’ve been dying to see.

“Gagosian Gallery.”

“Good choice. Ten minutes, and we’ll be there,” he replies, a content smile on his face.

True to his word, we’re there in no time. I stand in front of the large glass windows of the gallery, peering inside. The oversized sculptures and bold contemporary pieces are illuminated in the most stunning way, glowing softly in the dark night. It’s as if the gallery was made to be seen at night.

The oversized orange Balloon Dog by Jeff Koons immediately grabs my attention. I stand beside Oliver, staring up at it, completely captivated by its playful, childlike nature.

“It really taps into that feeling of innocence, doesn’t it?” I say softly. “Like it’s meant to remind us of the simple joy of a kid with a balloon at a birthday party.”

I remember the surprise birthday party Amber and Wren threw me when they found out I’d never had one. They hired a balloon artist, and the dog was white, but seeing this massive orange version of it now makes me smile, bringing back all the happiness from that moment.

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