Page 31 of The Amazing Date

I puff out a breath. “Forget it. We’re here, and we’re in this. But for future reference, there is a method to what I do. And do not call me bossy. I like to be prepared. All will be forgiven if you tell me you’ve been to Seattle and know your way around?”

He shakes his head, and I attempt to hide my disappointment. The crinkle of a bag he is pulling from his backpack captures my attention. The clear plastic bag is clouded with steam. “I know you didn’t have time for breakfast, so I grabbed you something. It was from a street vendor in one of the alleys we ran through yesterday.”

He hands me the bag, the contents still warm. “What is it?” I ask. He watches as I pull open the bag, and he holds a pile of napkins in his hand. “It’s called Jian Bing. It’s like an omelet crepe. I had them add a few vegetables for you as well. A peace offering. I have a side of chili sauce. I know you can stand the heat.” For the first time all morning, he smiles at me, and the tension between us evaporates.

It’s like we operate on a pendulum, one extreme to the other. At this rate, we’ll both wind up in the hospital with whiplash.

I drizzle a bit of the sauce, careful not to spill any on my lap. I take a bite. The soft, warm crepe with the egg is perfectly balanced with the heat from the sauce, the green onion and lettuce providing texture. “Oh my god, that’s good. Did you already eat?”

His gaze shifts to the road. “Had to pass. I only had a four-dollar budget and had to leave funds for my coffee.”

I rip the treat in half and hold it up to him. “Here, take this. It’s huge, and we don’t know what’s waiting for us in Seattle. I may have to eat another dozen cookies or something.”

“You sure? Back in the room, you had that look like you wanted to bite my head off. I figured I’d give you something else to chew on.”

He shoots me a sexy half smirk as I attempt to push out the image of biting him. “I would never bite you”—he lifts his breakfast to his lips, taking a small nibble—“unless you wanted me to.”

His reaction is priceless. He chokes, his hand pressed against his lips as he leans forward. I hand him my water bottle, and he takes a long swig, suddenly finding the cars on the highway interesting.

After riding in silence for a few moments, he points to a sign on the highway. Airport one mile.

“Thanks for breakfast,” I say, collecting the garbage.

“Thanks for putting up with my moods. I didn’t get a lot of rest last night.”

A wicked thought floats through my mind. I know I should withhold it, but I’m finding myself losing my restraint around Roberto. “Yeah, I know what you mean. Dreams, huh?” I capture his gaze and don’t let go this time.

His dark eyes cloud with a look of want and desire that makes my throat go dry. “On repeat all night long.” He bites his lower lip and continues, “Small price to pay to relive those moments over and over again.”

“Mmm, care to share—” I start before being interrupted.

“Here we go, Alaska Airlines,” the taxi driver states and points to the meter.

I grab my bag and scoot out as Roberto pays. I overhear him say, “Sorry, Mr. Hart, for not tipping, but we’re on a strict budget. I have your taxi number and will send you a proper tip when I’m home in a week.”

The cabbie waves to Roberto, his face full of skepticism, but I know Roberto will make good on his promise. He was on time to the mat this morning, technically. He is being responsible with our limited funds, and he’s trying to be a better partner. He turns to me, and I lean forward, placing a kiss on his cheek.

“What’s that for?” he asks and adjusts his backpack.

I slip my hand into his and direct him toward the terminal. “That was for breakfast. For what you did with the cabbie. For dragging me out last night, and for just being you. You may not be Gabby, but I can’t think of anyone else I’d rather run this race with.”

He squeezes my hand and pulls open the concourse-level door. “Don’t tell me you’re going soft on me, partner. I’m not sure I can deal with this kinder, gentler side of you.”

I release his hand and begin to jog. “Well then, try to keep up, slowpoke. We’re in the bottom twenty percent, and I haven’t finished at the bottom of anything I’ve ever wanted in my life. I blame you.” Three steps in, and with him behind me, my fake smile fades. Over the last few years, I haven’t gotten everything I want. I’m struggling at work, missing my best friend, and my social life is a disaster. I hide my struggles from everyone because that’s what I do. The world doesn’t care about your struggles; my parents never did. The world has more people like Kelly, Caitlin, and Kira than people want to believe. Showing weakness only gives them ammunition to take you down. I’ve tried on so many different versions of myself, trying to find one that works. This controlled, overprepared, hardest-working person in the room should work. It’s how Gabby and Roberto were raised. It’s delivered them a community filled with love and support—something which continues to escape me to this day.

My plastic smile reappears just as Roberto arrives next to me. “Blame me all you want. You focus on the prize, and I’ll focus on the fun. That is the true prize.”

I wish I could experience the world the way he does. I don’t have the luxury to live life in the moment. I must fight for everything I get. I have no advantages. I’m alone in New York; I’m not surrounded by friends and family. My only protection is staying sharp, remaining prepared, and then executing.

I’ll let him focus on the fun because I have plans for the prize money, and the only way I’ll get it is if I remain a hard-ass and prepare for things no one sees coming. The flight is only two hours. Two hours for me to ignore the other teams, two hours to put my armor back on, and two hours for me to focus. Let them have their fun. I have a race to win.

Chapter 20

Roberto

The brightest green eyes I’ve ever seen in my life smile back at me, accompanied by the sweetest laugh I’ve heard in a while. Maggie, an HR consultant returning home to Seattle from a three-day conference in San Francisco, fires a look over my shoulder. “Your friend is shooting me daggers. I think she may be a little jealous.”

I turn just in time to see Rylee divert her cold stare back to the Seattle travel directory she purchased at the gift shop just before we boarded the plane. I’m sitting next to Maggie in the back of a fairly empty plane. I thought Rylee would have relaxed a little after we arrived at the gate to discover three of the four teams left in the race would be on this flight. Only Caitlin and Kelly are not accounted for. Ronnie speculated they must have made the one flight out ahead of ours, which cuts their lead to a mere thirty minutes.

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