briefly. We’re sitting in an empty parking lot. “Where is here?”
He doesn’t answer me. He shuts off the car and turns in his seat to face me. He has a mischievous grin on his face. “Alright, so in order for this to be a normal date, we need to talk about normal stuff that normal people dating would talk about. No talk about impending intersections of galaxies, a potential apocalypse, or infiltrating the Sondian enemy. Got it?”
I shift my body toward him, smiling at the game he’s making of this. “Got it.”
I look down at myself. I’m in a long-sleeve V-neck, jeans, and a pair of Toms. I barely had time to fix my hair and put on a little mascara and lip gloss before we left Ms. Olivia’s. I groan. So much for date attire.
He catches my thoughts. “Hey.” His eyes hold mine. “You look amazing.”
I feel energy pass between us as his gaze focuses on me. I clear my throat. “Thank you.” I look over Nate’s clothes. He’s wearing a long-sleeve olive-green henley shirt and faded jeans. He looks amazing. I can’t deny how gorgeous he is. “You look pretty amazing yourself.”
Nate laughs. “I know.”
I roll my eyes at his growing ego. I reach for the door, but Nate grabs hold of my hand.
“Wait, don’t touch that door.” Nate hops out and jogs around the front of the car. He opens my door and reaches for my hand.
As soon as he touches me, I feel his warmth course through me. It gives me a surge of adrenaline, and I grip his hand tightly.
Nate pulls me across the street, and we walk quickly through the cool air. The street is lined with old-fashioned lamplights. The little shops are quaint antique shops, boutiques, convenient stores, and small bistros.
Midway down the street, Nate stops in front of a huge wrought iron gate. There is a bright yellow and black–striped canopy above it. I see an older man standing behind it. He is tall and thin with white hair combed back to perfection. He looks at Nate first, and then he glances at me with suspicion.
He questions cautiously, “Sera?”
Nate responds, “Nathaniel Sera.”
The old man’s face lights up, and he quickly unlocks the gate.
“Come in, Nathaniel. Is this Jesca?” He doesn’t wait for me to respond. He grabs hold of my free hand and shakes it. “Hello, dear. Your father and I are cohorts. We’ve been working together on the Bermuda Triangle project.”
Nate clears his throat a little. “Terrance, Jesca Gershon-Sera. Jesca, Terrance Getty.”
Getty. I know that name. Nick Getty?
Before I can ask aloud, Nate says, “He’s Nick’s grandfather. He lives here in Miami.”
Mr. Getty releases my hand and leads us farther through a stone tunnel beyond the gate. Vines are growing along the stone on both sides.
Mr. Getty speaks as he walks ahead of us. “It is so wonderful to meet you. You have a very resourceful boyfriend, my dear. Nick, God love him, called me this afternoon and said that Nathaniel needed to reserve my restaurant for the evening because he wanted to take Ezra’s daughter to dinner. I was closed tonight, but for Ezra and my grandson, I’m open.”
All of a sudden the tunnel opens to a large open space. The floor is cobblestone, and candles line the perimeter of this garden-like room. There is a pond with a small waterfall at the other end of the space. I look above, and I see the ceiling is crystal-clear glass. The stars are shining through, illuminating the room even more than the candles. There is one table set in the middle of the space.
I look over at Nate. He is smiling at me, enjoying my surprised reaction. I can’t believe he set all of this up in a matter of hours.
Mr. Getty is at the table now. “Come, come. Sit.”
I whisper under my breath as I lean into Nate. “Normal date, huh?”
He whispers back. “Just go with it. You know we don’t do normal very well. Plus, I wanted to make sure we are…safe, wherever we go.”
His last comment throws me for a loop. I don’t hear his
He doesn’t answer me. He shuts off the car and turns in his seat to face me. He has a mischievous grin on his face. “Alright, so in order for this to be a normal date, we need to talk about normal stuff that normal people dating would talk about. No talk about impending intersections of galaxies, a potential apocalypse, or infiltrating the Sondian enemy. Got it?”
I shift my body toward him, smiling at the game he’s making of this. “Got it.”
I look down at myself. I’m in a long-sleeve V-neck, jeans, and a pair of Toms. I barely had time to fix my hair and put on a little mascara and lip gloss before we left Ms. Olivia’s. I groan. So much for date attire.
He catches my thoughts. “Hey.” His eyes hold mine. “You look amazing.”
I feel energy pass between us as his gaze focuses on me. I clear my throat. “Thank you.” I look over Nate’s clothes. He’s wearing a long-sleeve olive-green henley shirt and faded jeans. He looks amazing. I can’t deny how gorgeous he is. “You look pretty amazing yourself.”
Nate laughs. “I know.”
I roll my eyes at his growing ego. I reach for the door, but Nate grabs hold of my hand.
“Wait, don’t touch that door.” Nate hops out and jogs around the front of the car. He opens my door and reaches for my hand.
As soon as he touches me, I feel his warmth course through me. It gives me a surge of adrenaline, and I grip his hand tightly.
Nate pulls me across the street, and we walk quickly through the cool air. The street is lined with old-fashioned lamplights. The little shops are quaint antique shops, boutiques, convenient stores, and small bistros.
Midway down the street, Nate stops in front of a huge wrought iron gate. There is a bright yellow and black–striped canopy above it. I see an older man standing behind it. He is tall and thin with white hair combed back to perfection. He looks at Nate first, and then he glances at me with suspicion.
He questions cautiously, “Sera?”
Nate responds, “Nathaniel Sera.”
The old man’s face lights up, and he quickly unlocks the gate.
“Come in, Nathaniel. Is this Jesca?” He doesn’t wait for me to respond. He grabs hold of my free hand and shakes it. “Hello, dear. Your father and I are cohorts. We’ve been working together on the Bermuda Triangle project.”
Nate clears his throat a little. “Terrance, Jesca Gershon-Sera. Jesca, Terrance Getty.”
Getty. I know that name. Nick Getty?
Before I can ask aloud, Nate says, “He’s Nick’s grandfather. He lives here in Miami.”
Mr. Getty releases my hand and leads us farther through a stone tunnel beyond the gate. Vines are growing along the stone on both sides.
Mr. Getty speaks as he walks ahead of us. “It is so wonderful to meet you. You have a very resourceful boyfriend, my dear. Nick, God love him, called me this afternoon and said that Nathaniel needed to reserve my restaurant for the evening because he wanted to take Ezra’s daughter to dinner. I was closed tonight, but for Ezra and my grandson, I’m open.”
All of a sudden the tunnel opens to a large open space. The floor is cobblestone, and candles line the perimeter of this garden-like room. There is a pond with a small waterfall at the other end of the space. I look above, and I see the ceiling is crystal-clear glass. The stars are shining through, illuminating the room even more than the candles. There is one table set in the middle of the space.
I look over at Nate. He is smiling at me, enjoying my surprised reaction. I can’t believe he set all of this up in a matter of hours.
Mr. Getty is at the table now. “Come, come. Sit.”
I whisper under my breath as I lean into Nate. “Normal date, huh?”
He whispers back. “Just go with it. You know we don’t do normal very well. Plus, I wanted to make sure we are…safe, wherever we go.”
His last comment throws me for a loop. I don’t hear his
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