Page 62 of Better Watch Out
The hopefulness in his expression makes her want to fake a fainting spell just so she could feel his arms around her again as he caught her.
“Frannie, are you okay?”
Blinking from her fantasy, she gave a slow nod. “Yeah, we’re good.”
Before she knew what was happening, Andrew’s fingers were brushing against her cheek. “You look a little flushed.”
“Oh, um, I just finished packing my bag.” She laughed nervously. “How come things never fit the same way they did when you pack them the first time?”
“I’m not sure.” Was there a sadness to his tone? “I’ll take it down to the car and I’ve already checked you out—” His eyes rounded. “Of the hotel,” he added quickly. “So we can just drop off your room key in the box on the way out.”
“Sounds good.”
Ten minutes later, Frannie was sitting in the passenger side of a sleek black Chevy Tahoe watching Andrew navigate through New York traffic like a pro, though she had no idea where they were going.
“My brother would kill me for not knowing where I’m going.”
The edge of Andrew’s lip lifted. “You can give him your location …” Andrew flipped his blinker and maneuvered the SUV behind a yellow taxi. “Now.”
Frannie leaned forward, gazing through the windshield at the ornate building they were pulling in front of. “The Plaza!”
The French-inspired design drew her eyes up the marble-and-white-stone façade. Taxis, bellhops, and guests congested the entryway as a doorman opened the door for Frannie. She got out of the car and the energy surrounding the iconic hotel decorated in elaborate holiday dressing stole her breath.
“You can’t leave New York City without a visit to The Plaza. Shall we, Ms. Francis Eloise Frost?”
Snowflakes. Not butterflies. Beautiful, dancing snowflakes fluttered around in her stomach as she let Andrew slip her arm into the crook of his elbow and escort her into the hotel.
Inside, Andrew walked her to a man in a dark suit standing behind a desk. He had sleek black hair, a pencil mustache, and the kind of sincere expression she could only describe as jolly.
“Good morning, Ms. Frost. Welcome to The Plaza. My name is Henry Klaus and I am going to give you a personal tour of our beautiful hotel before escorting you to your afternoon tea in the Palm Court.”
Mr. Klaus snapped his fingers and another employee hurried over to take their coats, as another offered them a glass of champagne. Then with a click of his heels, Mr. Klaus began their tour.
“This is amazing,” Frannie whispered in between Mr. Klaus’s stories of the history of the hotel. “Thank you.”
“The only way you can write about life is to experience it.”
The warmth of Andrew’s breath against her neck tickled but it was the way his words anchored their way into her soul that really impacted her. She met his eyes and for a few seconds couldn’t hear anything Klaus was saying over the way her heart was beating for this man she’d only known for a few days and yet was encouraging her to move past her fears.
“The Oak Room you might recognize.” Mr. Klaus’s voice pulled her focus back to the tour but not before the side of Andrew’s hand brushed against hers, their pinkies locking for a brief second while Mr. Klaus described the private room. “This is where Cary Grant’s character, Roger Thornhill, was kidnapped inNorth by Northwest.”
An hour later, after they had walked the same halls as The Beatles, Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis, and of course, Macaulay Culkin, Andrew gave her a spin in the Grand Ballroom, where Truman Capote hosted his infamous party with guests such as Andy Warhol and Frank Sinatra. They were then seated at a cozy, private booth for two inside the Palm Court.
Frannie gazed up at the stained-glass dome and the palm trees that were nearly as tall as the ceiling and sighed. “This is magical.”
“Are you enjoying it?”
Meeting Andrew’s eyes, she smiled. “Very much.”
“It’s your last day in the city and I wanted to make it special.” And like a magician, Andrew produced an ornately decorated package. He set it on the table in front of her. “For the record, I didn’t wrap it. My skills aren’t this detailed.”
The gift was wrapped in a red toile paper with scenes of Santa delivering toys under decorated trees and in his sleigh. Green and gold velvet ribbons tied in perfect bows made it look too good to open. “You didn’t have to get me a gift.”
Andrew shifted, suddenly looking uncomfortable. “Uh, it’s not … for you.”
Frannie’s cheeks flamed. “Oh.” She glanced down at the tag hidden beneath a sprig of holly. “Jisoo? You bought a Christmas gift for my niece?”
“Kind of.” He swallowed. “You gave away the Eloise book you bought for her and I just wanted to replace it, especially now that you’ve been to the hotel.”
