Page 100 of You and Me, For Real
“Great. Thanks.” I head to the shower, excited to spend my day with who I want to the most—Ashton.
28
ASHTON
The top is down on Griffin’s Audi, and we’re traversing the California streets to some undisclosed location. The sun is bright and the breeze blows my hair wild. I close my eyes, and rest my arm on the car door, letting the wind dance through my fingers.
When Griffin texted this morning saying he had a surprise, I immediately texted backyes. No doubts. No hesitation. Wherever he is, I want to be.
Who is this carefree girl now? I barely recognize her.
Griffin squeezes my hand. “Any idea where we’re going?”
I study his profile while he focuses on the road ahead. The man is gorgeous—that’s a given. But with each day I get to know him better, his kindness, generosity, and humor make him grow impossibly more attractive.
I shake my head and shout over the wind. “No. Does this mean you’re going to tell me now?”
“Soon. We’re almost there.”
Minutes later, we pull into the parking lot of The Gatsby, a Tuscan-style venue with a clay tiled roof, cream-colored stucco, and rounded arches in front of all the windows. It’s set on ahillside, a series of stairs leading up to it. At the base is a small garden with a wrought-iron gate.
“What are we doing here?”
Griffin shuts off the car and presses the automatic cover retrieval for the roof. “I thought we could take a look at it as a possible venue for the gala.”
While I did mention the idea of a gala at some point in the future, I didn’t necessarily plan on it being so soon. I may have managed to navigate the party last night, but hosting an entire event is a whole other level. “Are you serious?”
He turns to me, his voice soft. “Very serious.”
And suddenly, I feel like we’re talking about something else entirely.
Last night’s confessions about my past and our intimate kisses left me feeling rather vulnerable today. Maybe the kiss was a fluke? A rare moment of passion and emotion?
But judging by the intensity of his gaze, his thoughts are very much in line with my own—which is why I can’t wait to test my theory from last night: that we have excellent chemistry and need to explore it more.
He slowly leans toward me. I match his movement, a smile playing on my lips. My heart grows wings and starts to flutter. We bridge the small gap between us, just a breath away from each other.
Someone knocks on Griffin’s driver’s side window. “Mr. Ford?”
Griffin’s head droops, and he growls in annoyance, “Yes?”
I giggle despite my sentiment being the same.
“We’re ready for your tour, sir. If you’d like to follow me?”
“Yup,” he replies with an exaggerated pop of the p, his eyes never leaving mine. His lopsided smile appears. “To be continued?”
“Absolutely.” And in a moment of boldness, I lean over and peck his cheek.
We exit the car and follow behind the portly man, who I’d guess is in his fifties.
As we walk, Griffin brushes the back of my hand with his fingers and whispers, “I called and set up a private tour. The facility isn’t open on Sundays, but they made an exception for me.”
“Of course they did.” Instinctively, I extend my hand to hold his, but I pull away at the last second. Given that Griffin still has to maintain a public relationship with Scarlet, holding hands is probably considered inappropriate. I turn away, not wanting my face to reveal the sting of hurt.
“My name is Jorge. I’m the manager of this facility, and I’ll be serving as your tour guide today. What sort of event are you looking to host here? And do you have a projected number of guests?”
Jorge has warm, brown skin and almond-colored eyes that are friendly and genuine.
