Page 68 of The Amazing Date

A surprise greets us at the base of the Empire State Building. Wilma, standing tall and proud, wearing a floor-length yellow-and-gold evening gown. The outfit is a throwback to her welcome dinner, the kickoff of the competition. The outfit is a visual reminder that the end is here.

Fear grips me, and for a second, I wonder if I misread a clue. Is the base of the building the finish line? Are we too late? Is the race over?

Her gaze floats to our one skateboard, the corners of her lips ticking up in a knowing smile. “Ah, I wondered what was keeping you.”

I hold the skateboard under my arm and grip Roberto’s hand with the other. We both lower our heads and step on the mat, waiting for the verdict.

She points behind her to a stand with a half dozen water bottles, and we both grab one.

“Welcome to the Empire State Building, your final location for the race. Take the marked elevator bank to the fiftieth floor. From there, take Stairway C racing up the stairs to the top observation deck and the finish mat. In the stairway, you may come across one or more challenges which must be completed successfully for you to continue. First team to step on the mat together on the observation deck at the top will be the winner of the thirtieth edition of It Take Two. Good luck.”

As suspected, it’s a physical challenge, a race up one of the tallest buildings in New York City. At least they are kind enough to give us a fifty-story head start. I gulp the rest of my water and grab two bottles, handing one to Roberto for the stairway.

“How much of a lead does team one have on us?” Roberto asks.

Wilma tilts her head, her brow arching up. “You know I can’t tell you that, but if I were you, I’d hurry.”

I pull Roberto by the hand toward the elevator bank. I press the button once, twice, six times. When the elevator door opens, I hop in and do the same to the Close button.

“You think we still have a shot?” I ask, hoping Roberto lies to me. I can tell by Wilma’s tone the blondes have a significant lead.

“I never thought we’d ever have a shot.” The flirtatious twinkle in his eye tells me he’s not referring to us in the competition. “Never say never.”

A sanitized instrumental version of “Despacito” plays on the elevator, and we both burst into laughter. “That’s got to be a sign, right?” I ask.

Roberto lifts his right hand, palm facing me, and I step toward him. His left hand wraps around my waist, and we begin to dance. This musical arrangement is stripped down, slower, and more intimate, and we match it with our dance. We’re not in front of thousands of people this time. It’s just the two of us, my head pressed to his chest, his fingers tracing distracting circles on my lower back. Our four-day journey is coming to an end. The trip, much like the time spent in Puerto Rico, has forever changed both of us.

“Thank you for saying yes. Thank you for running this race with me. Thank you for being you.”

Roberto lifts his elbow, leading me into a slow turn, the tug on my wrist pulling me in, and he places a kiss on the top of my forehead. “Thank you for reminding me what I’ve been missing. That life should be about adventure, passion, and doing things that scare the hell out of you. Challenges that are just as likely to knock you on your ass as they are to have you screaming in victory.” He lowers his chin, a kiss on the tip of my nose. His intense eyes pin me in place. “Thank you for this incredible journey. It feels like one very long date.”

“The best kind of date,” I return.

“The Amazing Date.” His warm breath warms my cheek. “The first of so many more.”

My giggle bounces off the mirrored walls of the elevator. “I’d like to see you try to top this one.”

“Hold my beer,” he jokes, and the elevator slows as it approaches the floor. We turn to face the door, holding hands. “No matter what happens up there, we’ve won.”

I feel the same way but can’t let the opportunity slip away. “We didn’t come this far for a participation trophy. Let’s win this damn thing.”

We are two thoroughbreds at the start line of the Kentucky derby, itching to race. The ding of the elevator bell is music to our ears. We bolt as soon as the doors open and hit the stairway side by side. I know Roberto with his long legs can take the steps three at a time, but he matches my steps, two at a time. Partners all the way to the finish line.

We are a synchronized couple moving to music only we hear. The rhythm of the steps is the backbeat to our breaths, transforming this impossible task into a pleasurable chore. As our huffs grow louder and our pace slows, we maintain our synchronicity. Our stride falls to one step, yet we continue to move and act as one. I’ve never felt this before in my life, and I know I will never be able to live without it. We are joined by more than this race; somewhere along this journey, we have discovered secrets about ourselves, about each other, and have become a couple.

It takes two.

* * *

So focused on the steps, the sight of a pair of white sneakers and toned legs of someone in the stairwell barely registers. My forehead nearly smacks into the raised hand of Juanita, who must take a step back to the concrete wall.

Only when I stop moving do I feel the tingling sensation racing up and down my legs.

“Challenge stop.” She pauses dramatically, and I take the opportunity to unscrew my water bottle and steal a sip.

I catch Roberto’s gaze toward the wall at the large black block letters. Floor Seventy-Five. His T-shirt clings to him as if he had walked through a car wash, and the expression on his face easy to read: No way that was only twenty-five floors.

“Answer these two questions and you may proceed,” she states, holding up an index card, the question hidden from us. “Plus or minus five dollars, how much money did you spend on your couples night out in Seattle?”

---