“Honestly? Travel. As soon as I finish a project, I go somewhere I’ve never been or a place I love to go that has nothing to do with work.”
“I didn’t get to travel much growing up. My mother was afraid of flying.” I smile, thinking of how adamant Mama was about it. “Even that family reunion I told you about in New York. Greyhound bus.”
“Wow. So you haven’t been out of the country much.”
“Does a girls’ trip to Mexico count?”
“Barely. We could drive to Mexico right now.”
“After high school, I went straight to Rutgers. Then I did some regional theater, some touring, but it was all in the States.”
“Now that’s a shame. We gotta get you out.”
“Where would you take me?” I turn in my seat a little, angling to see his face.
“Hmmm.” He taps the steering wheel. “Paris first. Is that too cliché?”
“Won’t hear me complaining. Where to next?”
“Johannesburg. My father’s there, but we won’t hold that against it.” He flashes me a grin. “The City of Gold. It’s gorgeous. There’s several countries we need to hit in Africa.”
“And?”
“Maybe Santorini. One of the Greek islands. It’s stunning. The architecture is like an extension of the landscape. White houses, blue doors and windows. Like sky and the Aegean Sea. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“I’d love to see that,” I say, my smile dissolving as I realize just how limited my view of the world has been until now.
“I’d love to take you.” He reaches over to hold my hand, pulls it to his lips. “What do you say? After Dessi wraps?”
“Where?” I ask, leaning my head into the seat, watching his rugged profile.
“Wherever you want to go, but first I have somewhere for us to go today, and we’re late.”
“Late? You and your plans.”
“You love them,” he says, keeping his eyes on the road.
I don’t answer, but I love everything about this puzzle of a man.
I’m surprised when we pull into the parking garage of The V hotel.
“We could have stayed in my bed if you were just gonna bring me to a hotel.”
“This is a date.” He parks, gets out, and comes around to open my door. “We haven’t really had those.”
I stare at him for a second, letting that sink in, before taking his hand and getting out. He pulls me close and leans down to kiss me briefly, sweetly.
“I don’t actually care what we’re doing here,” I murmur against his lips. “As long as we get to do more of this.”
He walks us over to an elevator, pulls out a key and turns it in the wall to summon the car.
“Fancy,” I say, stepping in with him. The elevator keeps going until we reach the top.
“The roof?” I ask, my smile broadening.
“We’ll have it all to ourselves.”
Evan said Open Air was best when it was empty. Guess I’m about to find out.