“I’m certainly not going to eat those vile animal byproducts,” he said as she dragged him toward the cart.
“In all the years you’ve visited New York City, have you seriously never had the pleasure of partaking of a street hot dog? Look, Rafe. You have your rules, and I have mine. I refuse to leave this park until we each have one. I’ve heard that there is nothing comparable.”
Ari looked him in the eye with her hands on her hips. She meant business. He wanted her to compromise on everything — well, she wanted to see the hoity-toity Rafe eat a hot dog.
Much to Ari’s surprise, Rafe stepped forward and ordered them each a dog. He wrinkled his nose as he brought the mystery meat to his lips, but he took a bite and Ari wanted to shout with glee. The sight somehow made him more human.
“What do you think?” she asked after she swallowed. It truly was the best hot dog she'd ever tasted.
“I don’t know how you can eat this with a smile, Ari. It’s absolutely terrible,” he said. The disgust on his face made her laugh.
“If you eat the whole thing, I won’t ever complain again about the strange dishes you make me try,” she promised.
With raised eyebrows and eyes that lit up, Rafe looked from his hot dog to her face, as if he were really trying to find out if the dare was worth it.
“Why don’t we up the stakes?”
“What do you have in mind?” she asked nervously.
“I get a future request.”
“What kind of request?” She wasn’t going to grant him just anything.
“That’s part of the mystery. I eat your horribly fatty and probably diseased hot dog, and I get a teensy little request later on.”
“Fine. I really want to see you eat the whole thing.”
With a smile on his face, Rafe took his next bite, and another, and another. As he finished the hot dog, Ari realized she’d been hustled, because he walked up to the vendor and ordered a second one. She’d just traded him a to-be-determined favor for something he obviously enjoyed.
Oh, he was so much better at acting than she was.
Chapter Seven
The day’s light had faded as Rafe and Ari arrived at the Sea Grill Restaurant. Their table overlooked the many hopeless amateurs skating on the ice rink at Rockefeller Center. She badly wanted to be out there with them, but waited patiently; the meal couldn’t last forever, could it?
“Have you gone ice-skating before?” Rafe asked as he held out her chair.
“No, but I’ve always wanted to, and to do so at Rockefeller Center for the first time would be beyond exciting, even though I’m sure I will make a fool of myself,” she replied breathlessly.
“We’re lucky it’s still open. This is the last day until next winter.”
“I’m not very hungry. I can always grab a bite later,” she said as she looked longingly out at the white frozen surface. She was afraid that if they waited too long, the rink would close up and she’d miss her chance forever.
“I assure you it will still be open after we’ve had dinner, Ari,” he responded with a laugh.
With reluctance, Ari picked up her menu and looked for something to eat that would take the least amount of time to prepare. The restaurant was crowded, though, so she knew she wouldn’t get on the ice for at least another hour.
“Would you like me to order?”
Ari’s first instinct was to say no, that she was perfectly capable of ordering herself, but he hadn’t steered her wrong so far in his choices of food. She would most likely get something much better if she just let him choose.
“That will be fine,” she said, and she went back to watching the many skaters glide across the surface of the well-lit ice.
Just as the waiter was pouring them a glass of wine, the ice was cleared of people except for a man and a woman. Ari watched as the man dropped to one knee and held out something in his hand. He was proposing!
She couldn’t hear the two people speak, but obviously she’d said yes, because the crowd around the rink clapped and cheered before they all resumed their adventures on the ice.
“How romantic,” Ari sighed without realizing she’d spoken out loud.
“I can think of many more-romantic ways to propose,” Rafe scoffed.
Ari whipped her head around to look at him. He didn’t seem to be the type of guy to think about such things as marriage proposals. As if he could read her thoughts, he continued.
“I mean that if a man wants to propose — which is foolish, as more than fifty percent of marriages end in divorce — then he could do it a lot less publicly and pleasantly than in the middle of a freezing-cold ice rink.”
“The point is that he loves her so much, he wants the rest of the world to know about it,” she argued as their appetizers were set on the table. She picked up a jumbo shrimp and dipped it in a delicate horseradish sauce before taking a bite, anticipating his next verbal challenge.
“I suppose you think marriage proposals at ball games are romantic, too? You would want your hoped-for fiancé to splash his intentions on the giant billboard for all to see?”
“It would make me feel special that he wasn’t ashamed to have the entire stadium and TV audience see him proclaim his love.”
“Women,” he grumbled as he picked up a piece of lobster and sank his teeth into it as a distraction.
“There’s nothing wrong with being a romantic, Rafe. The fact that you treat relationships like a business transaction doesn’t mean the rest of the world should. Most people are looking for love and romance, and they want to be swept off their feet. Someday, love will hit you again and then, you watch! You’ll be doing a cheesy proposal of your own,” she said smugly as she grabbed another shrimp.
“I can guarantee you, that won’t happen.”
“The most confident of men are the ones who fall the hardest,” she warned.
“We’ll just agree to disagree on this point.” With that, he closed the discussion.
Ari was grateful, after a moment’s thought, because talking about commitment of any kind with Rafe was uncomfortable at best. She knew her place in their relationship.
She directed her eyes back to the skating rink and watched a man and woman start spinning around like professionals. The man lifted his partner up high as he spun around, and then he released her. She twirled in the air and landed gracefully. Their fellow skaters, who had slowed down to watch the show, clapped their approval.
Talk about risk, Ari thought. How frightening it would be to be lifted up high and then released to fall toward the hard ice. And the blades of those skates were thin, and sharp. She just knew she’d trip and end up slicing off a body part. She’d much rather stay safely on her feet.