Page 54 of Love… It's Messy
“You want to take a helicopter to Manhattan for dinner?” I run the pads of my fingers over my forehead and take in this information. “My mother knows you want to take me on a helicopter to Manhattan for dinner. Sorry, but there are about ten red flags in that comment.”
He pulls into a parking spot and puts the car in park. “Flags noted. I happened to tell my mother my plans, and of course, she got yours involved. I just wanted to share with you something that I really enjoy.”
“You fly in helicopters regularly,” I muse.
“I promise I will have you home at a reasonable hour. I know you worry about your daughter. If we leave now, we’ll be at dinner by eight thirty and home by midnight.”
“You rented a helicopter to fly to Manhattan for dinner?” I ask, completely dumbfounded.
He grimaces slightly. “I own it. Part of it. It’s a helicopter share with some other doctors.”
“Oh boy. This is very out of my comfort zone.” I hold my palm up to Eric and explain, “It’s not that I’m afraid to fly. I’m a single mom, and if I die, Ainsley is left without a parent and …” My words falter. Actually, if something were to happen to me, Ainsley would have Luke. Not that she knows he’s her dad … yet. I’m still not ready to get into a death trap with the man and risk my life.
Eric nods in understanding. “I understand your concerns. I would like to state that I have a pilot on call with over ten thousand hours of flight time under his belt. I’ve flown with him countless times, and I promise that nothing will happen to you.”
The blades of a nearby copter are spinning with quick, wind-splitting enthusiasm. I look out the window at it and cringe.
“I’m sorry, Eric, but that’s a no for me. I’d like to keep my feet on the ground tonight.”
He gives a small smile. “That’s okay. I have a plan B ready.”
“Are you sure? I’d understand if you want to call it a night. You went through all the trouble to hire the pilot. Don’t waste your money.”
He leans over slightly, and his cologne wafts off the jacket of his suit as he looks at me with his gentle eyes. “I took a chance on this without your permission. It was a poor attempt to impress you. I was going to show you the sunset like you wouldn’t believe. You have boundaries, and I respect them. I’d rather take you out to dinner at a fast-food chain in town than bring you home. I like you, Jillian. I just want to show you a good time.”
My cheeks heat with his words. They’re sweet and something I’m not used to hearing, yet I’m surprised that I like hearing them from Eric. Even if he tried way too hard to show me a fancy night on the town. I can’t fault him for that.
“Fast food is definitely out of the question,” I say and watch his face morph from hopeful to downtrodden. “However, if we start driving now, I know a great spot where we can see the sunset.”
Eric glances up, a wonderful smile crossing his face. He nods as he puts his car in reverse, lays an arm across the back of my seat, and declares, “Show me the way.”
I smile, and we set out onto the highway toward the town of Newbury. It’s forty minutes away from Greenwood Village, and I’m well aware we’d be almost in Manhattan by the time we pull up to the Mountain View Bistro, a beautiful venue at the top of a hill at the edge of Valor County. I exit the car and walk with Eric up the gently lit path, as the sun has already begun to set.
For a Thursday night, the restaurant is full. I assume Eric slipped the maître d’ a tip with how fast we are seated at a table near the window. We each take a seat facing the view, which also means we’re seated beside each other at the square table as opposed to across from one another, like we were last time.
We stare at the sky, a canvas of reds, pinks, and oranges as the sun descends below the treetops. The evening sun casts long shadows as setting rays give a warm orange tint to the changing leaves below. There’s a glare that pops through the windows, but we ignore it as we take in the view.
“This is no helicopter sunset, but I admit, it is beautiful up here,” he says.
“I’m glad you approve.”
“Better than what I planned.”
“Where were we supposed to eat?”
“I was going to order sandwiches for us to eat on a bench on the High Line. It’s a park created on an old New York City railroad line, elevated along the west side of Manhattan.”
I lean back in surprise. “I’ve heard of the High Line. I’m a little curious about the sandwiches on a park bench.”
“I figured the helicopter thing was a bit pompous, and I wanted to balance it out by showing you how I could also be down-to-earth.”
“That is by far the craziest thing I’ve ever heard.” I laugh loudly and rest my chin in my hand as I look over at Eric —a handsome, kind doctor with gentle eyes and an adorable sense of self. “It’s also incredibly sweet. You put a lot of thought into that.”
He leans forward with his elbow on the table and closes in a touch. “I’d like you to know, that was the first time I thought of that date. I date a lot, so I don’t want you to think I’m recycling date ideas.”
“I hadn’t thought of that, but thank you for clarifying. What is a typical date for you?”
“Dinner.”