Page 82 of Take It Till You Make It
“What is it?” Crispin asks when I frown.
I look up at him. “I barely recognize myself.” I hand him the phone. “That doesn’t even look like me.”
He studies it with a pleased smile on his face. “It looks exactly like you.”
I look at the picture and blink a few times, deciding I’ll examine it later. Maybe in better light, I’ll see myself more clearly.
My lobster dinner melts in my mouth. I’ve never had lobster before, and I think I’ve fallen in love. Dessert is decadent and rich, and served with eighteen lit candles that I’m required to blow out.
I tell Crispin about my mom’s and my outing the day before, and how much better I feel about her and her recovery. We talk about family vacations from our childhood, the time I tried to learn how to play guitar and failed spectacularly, about some of my favorite scene rewrites that Dad and I did, and about all the times Crispin’s sister covered for him when he screwed up at home by breaking something, or coming home too late, or forgetting to do a chore.
“I always wanted a big brother,” I admit.
He shakes his head. “A big sister is way better. They’re kinder.”
“Oh, that.” I wave a hand dismissively. “I was just thinking about dating his cute friends.”
The musicians transition into an instrumental version of a popular love song. I look over at them and smile when I recognize the song.
“Will you dance with me?” Crispin asks.
“I don’t know that I know how.” I laugh uncomfortably.
“Then it’s time you learn.” Crispin stands and reaches out a hand. I swallow at the dashing form he cuts in his all-black ensemble. “I promise it isn’t difficult.”
His hand is warm. The pads of his fingers are slightly callused, making me wonder what type of work he does to earn them. He leads me a few steps away from our table and then turns toward me, taking my right hand in his and sliding his left hand around my waist.
I’m no longer breathing as he kisses the knuckles of the hand he’s holding. “Relax. I promise not to bite.”
I let out a breathy laugh that’s cut off when I look out the windows at the back of the room. “Oh!” We’ve been facing the ocean the entire time. Now that the sun has set, the view has turned into a big black canvas. But behind us, the view has come alive with sparkling lights. The houses that crawl over the hills are lit up, making the scene glitter like Christmas. “That’s beautiful.”
“Yes.” Crispin sounds distracted, but I’m too enamored with the view to see why. “Captivating.”
When I tear my attention from the twinkling hills behind us, I find Crispin studying me. I blush and tentatively rest my head on his chest as we sway together, so I can watch the view. Wrapped in his embrace, I’m embarrassed when tears spring to my eyes. I blink them away, not willing to share them and risk them ruining the mood. But as I relax against Crispin, I’m overwhelmed with a feeling I haven’t felt in a long time. A feeling of security. It feels so good knowing someone is watching out for me. The emotion becomes almost too big for me to contain, and I know I need to acknowledge it in some manner, but I’m feeling especially vulnerable, so I squeeze his hand and whisper, “Thank you for this, Crispin. It’s very special.”
He kisses the crown of my head and pulls our clasped hands to his chest. “You are very special, Ari. I’m happy to show you how special you are.”
I smile and blink away the new rush of tears, but I keep my head resting against his chest and stare out at the enchanting view. I want to soak this feeling in until I’m so full of it, I can’t help but remember it forever.
Chapter Thirty-Two
“Areyou sure you’re ready for this?” Crispin asks as we pause just inside the restaurant door. “We only alerted a few of the more discreet journalists, so there shouldn’t be a mob.”
I take a deep breath and rest my hand on my tumultuous stomach. “I mean, I guess.”
“You don’t have to look at them or answer any questions. We just want them to get pictures of us together.”
I nod. “Let’s do this.”
He nods to the restaurant employee who waits patiently to open the door for us.
As I step into the doorway beside Crispin, the wind hits me immediately, and I grab my wrap before it slips off.
As promised, Belinda waits in the long black limo at the bottom of the stairs. While we dined, the wind became a gale, and I’m forced to clutch my wrap with one hand and my skirt with the other. They still whip around me as Crispin and I jog down the steps together. My hair whips around my face as well, and I blow it out of my mouth. Crispin jogs ahead to open the car door, and I tumble inside, hoping my skirt doesn’t blow up over my head and give the reporters an extra special view.
He slides in next to me, and I shake my hair back into place and smooth my dress over my thighs. “That wasn’t so bad.”
I chuckle breathlessly. “The wind distracted me. I wasn’t even aware of any reporters.”
