Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 113330 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 567(@200wpm)___ 453(@250wpm)___ 378(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113330 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 567(@200wpm)___ 453(@250wpm)___ 378(@300wpm)
The hostess smiles as we approach. “Do you have a reservation, sir?”
“For two, yes. I asked for a quiet table with an ocean view in the back. The name is Roman.”
Iris doesn’t know my last name, and I’d like to keep it that way. That’s why, when I booked today’s helicopter tour, I told the guy on the phone I’d throw in a thousand-dollar tip for the whole staff to split, as long as nobody uttered my last name today or asked me about football.
The tactic worked. Nobody called me anything but “sir” all morning long, and nobody said a single word about football or the Crusaders, either. Will my luck run out at some point this week? Probably, given that I’m planning to go out in public with Iris quite a bit. But I’m having so much fun being Roman the Gym Owner from Delaware, I’m determined to at least try to keep my last name out of Iris’s ears for as long as possible.
“Yes, sir,” the restaurant hostess chirps, looking up from her screen. “I’ve got a perfect table for you. Right this way.”
As we follow the woman toward our table, Iris puts her head down and raises her palm to her face like she’s a movie star trying to avoid paparazzi. She’s so damned cute. I love that she has no idea the supposed gym owner walking behind her is exponentially more likely to be recognized than a viral flavor of the week.
We make it to our table in the back without anyone giving us a second glance. To my relief, our table is exactly as described to me on the phone: tucked away in a quiet, secluded corner with a fabulous view of the glittering sea.
“This is so romantic, Roman,” Iris gushes as I pull back her chair. “You’ve pulled out all the stops today.”
“I figured you could use a little TLC.” I take a seat across from her. “The fish here is supposed to be amazing, if you like fish.”
“I do, and I’m hungry.”
We look down at our menus, but we both keep peeking over the tops of them to grin at each other like teenagers.
“Are you always this romantic?” Iris asks.
I’m surprised by the notion, because I don’t consider myself a romantic person in the slightest. Back home, I don’t have the time or inclination to invest in romance. I’m way too busy and focused on my job to allow that sort of distraction into my life. But here with Iris, I’m feeling uncharacteristically inspired to play the part of her white knight. It’s only one week of my life, after all, and her excitement is infectious.
“I’m not normally as romantic as this,” I confess with a smile. “I don’t know what’s come over me.”
“Well, I’m grateful for whatever it is.” She lowers her menu. “Please, don’t worry that I’m misunderstanding the nature of the situation here, simply because I used the word ‘romantic.’ Despite all the swooning I’ve been doing today, I promise I’m crystal clear this is a no-strings fling.”
I bite back a chuckle. “Thanks for clearing that up.”
Iris blushes. “What’s funny?”
“Nothing. You’re just cute.”
“Shoot. Do people in the midst of flinging not talk about the fling being a fling? Is that what’s funny?”
I can’t keep my wide grin at bay. “It’s normally just kind of assumed a fling is a fling, I think. But that’s okay. No harm in making it clear.”
She laughs and raises her menu again. “I wish I had a handbook or something. The learning curve on this is pretty steep.”
An amused smile spreads across my face. “Nah. You’re doing great.”
The waitress arrives, and after some back-and-forth, we order cocktails and three appetizers and agree she should come back later to take our orders for the main course.
When we’re alone again, Iris and I chat about the hiking trail I’m taking her to this afternoon. But eventually, when that topic runs its course, I ask if she’s always wanted to be a teacher.
“I’ve always dreamed of working with kids,” she replies. “But not necessarily teaching in a classroom. Growing up, my best friend’s family owned a horse ranch near Orchard Blossom, and I worked there every summer and on weekends, mostly giving trail rides and riding lessons to kids. That’s when I started dreaming about one day combining my two passions—horses and kids—as an actual career.”
“In what way?”
“One day, I’d love to provide equine therapy to kids.”
I ask her to explain what that means, and it turns out equine therapy is exactly what the name suggests: therapy administered through the care and/or riding of horses.
“Why not get a job in equine therapy now? You light up when you talk about it. Life is short.”
“It’s hard to break into the field, and I’ve already got a great job I love that pays the bills. Maybe someday. I’m still in my twenties, so I figure I’ve still got lots of time to work my way toward that goal.”