Page 81 of Take It Till You Make It
At the top of the stairs, I stop. There is so much to take in at once, and I don’t know where to look first. But in the end, Crispin, in his dark suit with his floppy bangs, wins. He’s standing with a champagne glass in his hand. It appears he was watching the ocean until he heard us coming. The stairs have deposited me in the middle of a round room of floor-to-ceiling windows. Crispin looks devastatingly handsome with the wild ocean and gray-blue sky as his backdrop.
“Happy birthday.” He picks up a second flute and crosses to me.
I take it but shake my head. “I can’t drink champagne.”
“Good thing it’s sparkling cider then.”
Taking a tentative sip, I giggle as the bubbles tickle my nose and then smack my lips from the satisfying taste of apple cider. “Oh, that is good.”
He leans forward and kisses me on my forehead. “It’s so good to see you. You look stunning.”
A girl in what seems to be the wait staff attire—white jacket, black slacks—steps up. “Can I take your wrap?”
“As long as you don’t let me forget it.”
“No problem, Miss. Quill.”
“Everybody knows me,” I say to Crispin. “How is that?”
“I can’t stop talking about you.” He gestures toward the window. “Would you like to enjoy the view before appetizers?”
I look around as we cross the room. There are half a dozen tables in the room, though we are the only diners. I deposit my clutch on the table I think we’re eating at, since the water glasses are full and sweating. A full bar is set along the side of the room where it doesn’t impede a spectacular view. A bartender polishes glasses to perfection since he doesn’t have anything else to do. A string quartet sits across the room, set up on a raised stage.
“Oh my gosh, the music is live. I assumed it was piped in.”
Crispin smiles. “They’ll play anything you ask of them.”
“How about Bohemian Rhapsody?”
The music stops and within a few beats, they launch into a string quartet version of the epic Queen song.
Crispin laughs. “That might have been an easy one. Isn’t the title of the album that song was on Night at the Opera?”
“Oh yeah!” I laugh until the view captures my attention. We’re so high, and somehow that means we can see forever. It literally looks like I can see over the edge of the world at the end of the ocean. “Wow.”
“I love this place.” Crispin appears so relaxed with a hand in a pocket and the other wrapped around his flute. His profile never ceases to take my breath away, regardless of what mood he’s in, but this mood – satisfied? Content? Whatever it is, his eyes are slightly hooded, his lips tipped up at the ends. He looks so comfortable, even though his black shirt is buttoned to the very top and his black jacket is buttoned as well. His shoes look very pointy, but he doesn’t seem to feel pinched. He catches me looking at him and takes a double-take. “What?”
“You just…” I shrug, blush, and turn toward the view. Looking over my shoulder, I ask, “Do we have this place to ourselves?”
“We do.”
“Wow, Crispin. You are amazing.”
He shakes his head and stares at me. His voice, when he speaks, is just a whisper. “Not me.”
Our appetizers are served, so we sit to enjoy them. The atmosphere is relaxed and casual, and I don’t feel rushed at all. The staff knows the exact number of times they should ask if we need anything so that I feel well taken care of without being annoyed over constant interruptions.
“I’m going to take a picture of the sunset. Is that okay?” I ask, as I dig for my phone in my clutch.
“Of course it’s okay. Why would you even ask?”
“This is such an incredible evening, and I don’t want you to think I’m looking for an Instagram moment or anything.”
“Would you like me to get a picture of the two of you?” One of our wait staff asks.
“Please!” I hand her my phone, and Crispin and I stand in front of the stunning sunset view. When he wraps an arm around my waist, my smile couldn’t get any more genuine.
I thank her and then scroll through them, since she snapped a few.
