Surprises

Part Six

Flashback

"Where are we going?" Dara asked, laughing as she clutched Michael's hand. He pulled her off the train and raced up the stairs to the busy midtown sidewalk. "Michael!"

"Just trust me," he said, not even breathless from his exertion.

Excitement and anticipation pumped inside him. Since he started working for Joe Scully, doing a little this and that, he'd been stashing some cash away. He gave most of it to his mother. She didn't want to take it because of the asshole, but she would. If only to be polite and not hurt his feelings. Michael didn't really care what her reasons were. He just hoped she saved it so that when she was finally tired of being beaten to a pulp, she'd have the cash to split without having to look back.

He glanced at Dara. The happiness that glowed around her was breathtaking. Racing through the streets of Manhattan was a little silly. He could have borrowed some wheels from Joe or one of his boys, but he decided not to. Dara would probably start in on the questions again and he didn't want to answer them. She'd given him enough of a hassle when she found out he wasn't living at home anymore. Her concern was sweet and was one of the few things that made him smile. That and hearing her sing. One day, when he had it made, he planned to open a nice little club just so Dara could sing. It would be theirs. Their paradise on earth.

"We're almost there," he said as they neared Times Square. "Just a couple of more blocks now. Do you think you can make it?"

She laughed. "I don't have a choice! I'm dying to see what my surprise is."

The hotel came into view. Michael abruptly moved in front of her. "Close your eyes!"

She did and her fingers tightened around his. Carefully, he guided her down the sidewalk and to the entrance to La Chateau Grande. The doorman gave them a quizzical glance. Michael handed the man a wad of cash and the doorman's curiosity switched to elegant servitude.

Michael had checked in earlier that day so there was no need to stop for a key. He already had it.

Leading her through the lobby, he headed straight to the elevators. Luckily for him, they had a car all to themselves. Michael hated enclosed spaces, but this wasn't so bad, not with Dara's hand holding his. The elevator moved at top speed and soon, the doors opened on the 32nd floor. They stepped out and he steered her toward their suite.

"Can I open my eyes now?" she asked.

"Not yet." He reached inside his pocket for the key. He opened the door and pushed it open. Then, he said, "Okay. You can open them." A soft gasp escaped her. "Michael, what is this?"

"It's our suite," he said, giving her a dimpled smile. "Go ahead. Walk in."

She gave him a look that was filled with uncertainty, so he gave her a little nudge. Moving slowly, she crossed the threshold. Her eyes were round and huge as she stared at the room. A roaring fireplace stood off to their left, a huge four-poster king-sized bed was on their right, and in the middle was a plush, ivory sofa that curved toward the fireplace. Nearby, a bottle of champagne chilled and two flute glasses rested beside it.

"This is...how did you..." She stammered until she found the right words. "Michael, what is all this?"

"It's a celebration," he said. He closed the door and went to her. His hands gently held her face.

"For what?" she asked, uncertain.

He hunched his shoulders. "For us."

"But I don't understand," she said. "How can you afford all this?"