Page 34 of Caught
At five minutes to five, Ryan pulled up in front of Leilah’s garage in the Volvo sedan. She spotted him from the window in the loft and hurried down the stairs. She was halfway through the garage bay when he knocked on the door.
She opened it and smiled. “You’re right on time.”
“And you’re a vision in green.”
She twirled. He hadn’t specified a shade of green, so she’d chosen an iridescent blouse that shimmered when she moved and a soft silk skirt and hijab in ombre tones that ranged from deep emerald to pale sage. “Hope this is what you had in mind.”
“It’s better than anything I could have imagined.” He kissed her hand and led her to the car.
As she settled into the passenger seat, she glimpsed an overnight bag in the back seat. “What kind of date is this?”
“You’ll see.”
She peppered him with questions but managed not to give him any driving advice as he merged onto 66 East.
After a moment, she groaned, “We’re not going back to the District of Columbia, are we?” She’d had more than her fill of the nation’s capital in recent days.
“You’ll see.”
She exhaled through her nostrils. “The cherry blossoms aren’t out yet. And I don’t think anyone’s tried to kill you today, so why on earth would we go to DC? Do not say ‘we’ll see,’” she warned him.
He made a motion like he was locking his lips and throwing away the key.
She shook her head and turned on the radio. When he took Rock Creek Parkway to Massachusetts Avenue, she bounced in her seat.
“I know where we’re going,” she said in a singsong voice.
“Where?”
“To the Seamus McGillicuddy Archive and History Center,” she told him triumphantly. Then she wrinkled her brow. That couldn’t be right, could it?
“Who would take someone to an archive for their first proper date?” he asked, articulating her thought for her.
“So it’s not the archive,” she said in a hopeful tone. “Don’t get me wrong, Maggie O’Donnell is a sweetheart, but—”
“It’s not the archive,” he assured her. “In fact,” he said as he turned off Massachusetts, “we’ve arrived.”
He pulled up in front of the Savoir Faire Hotel. A porter and a valet hurried out to meet them. Ryan handed off the keys to the valet and the valise to the porter, then he took Leilah by the hand and led her into the hotel. It was as breathtaking as she’d remembered.
“This is our date? One of the restaurants?”
“If you want, sure. But I thought we could get room service.”
“You booked us a room? Here?”
“I believe you’re owed both a shower and a bubble bath. We ended up camping the night we were supposed to stay here.”
Her excitement gave way to uneasiness. “Ryan, this is too much. It’s too—”
“Don’t. I gave Jake back his gangster roll. This is my treat, and I want to do it. I’m not going to pressure you to do anything. If you remember, there are three bedrooms.”
She rolled her eyes. “It’s not that. This is just … this is a big gesture for a first date.”
He put a finger under her chin and brought her eyes up to meet his. “Well, by my math, I’ve been waiting about a decade for this first date, so consider it ten years’ worth of gestures.”
She relented. “Okay.”
“Okay?”
