ISABELLA
Located on the southern tip of Brooklyn, between SeaGate and Brighton Beach, Coney Island was known for its amusement park, beaches, and boardwalk. During the summer, it swarmed with people, but in the winter, the rides shut down and the area turned into a ghost town.
That was what made it the perfect date spot for, say, a couple who was trying to stay under the radar.
“What do you think?” I chirped. “Isn’t this fun?”
“Fun isn’t the first word that came to mind,” Kai said dryly. He was dressed like a normal person today in a sweater and jeans. Yes, the sweater was cashmere, and yes, the jeans probably cost more than an average person’s monthly rent, but at least he’d ditched the suit and tie.
As sexy as he looked in business attire, he looked even better in casual wear.
“Oh, come on,” I said. “The beach sucks during the winter, but the hot dogs were good, right?”
“We could’ve gotten hot dogs in the city, love.”
“Not the same. Coney Island hot dogs hit different.”
Kai responded with a half-amused, half-exasperated glance.
We were walking down the boardwalk, the amusement park on one side and the Atlantic Ocean on the other. It wasn’t that cold today compared to the previous weeks, but I didn’t protest when he wrapped an arm around my shoulders and drew me closer.
Warmth radiated through my body. I bit my lip, trying and failing to constrain a cheesy smile.
Paris sounded dreamy, but this was what I wanted. A nice, normal date where we could be a nice, normal couple. As much as I loved a good adventure, I thought normality was highly underrated.
“Thank you for coming here with me,” I said. “I know it’s not Europe, but I thought a more casual outing would be nice. It’s been a hectic few weeks.”
Kai’s face softened. “When I said anything, I meant it. That includes visiting Coney Island.” His mouth twisted with a small grimace.
A laugh burst between my lips. “Don’t be a snob. You sound like I’m making you swim the Atlantic in the dead of winter.”
“One, I’m an excellent swimmer even in extreme temperatures. Two, I’m not a snob. I simply have exacting taste.”
“If by exacting, you mean boring, then you’re correct.”
Our playful banter continued to the New York Aquarium, where I had a little too much fun with the interactive “touch tanks.” After much begging and cajoling, I convinced Kai to dip his hands in the water and touch the sea life.
“Are you afraid of fish?” I asked, suppressing another laugh at his wary expression.
“No, I’m not afraid of fish, but their texture—” He stopped when he saw my wide grin. “You’re a menace.”
“Maybe, but I’m also the birthday girl, so what I say goes. Now, how do you feel about octopi?”
For the next four hours, I dragged Kai around Coney Island. After the aquarium, we went ice skating and drank a few too many pints at a local brewery.
He wasn’t a Brooklyn or beer type of guy, but aside from the fish incident, he didn’t complain once. By the time we finished our day with jumbo slices from a well-known pizzeria, he almost looked like he was enjoying himself.
“Admit it,” I said around a mouthful of cheese and pepperoni. “You did have fun.”
“Because of you.” Kai plucked a pepperoni off his slice and placed it on mine. He hated the topping and I loved it, which meant we were pizza partners made in heaven. “Not because of this place.”
Butterflies swooped in my stomach. How did he manage to say the perfect thing every time without even trying?
That was one of the things I loved most about him. He was thoughtful and caring because that was who he was. There was no ulterior motive.
“So how does this birthday rank compared to your others?” he asked after we polished off our food and started walking again. The sun was hanging low over the horizon, and we wanted to head out before sunset.
“Pretty damn high. In fact…” I stopped on the boardwalk and turned to loop my arms around his neck. I stood on tiptoes and gave him a soft kiss. “It was perfect. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” His mouth brushed mine. “Happy birthday, love.”
He’d presented with me a beautiful gold and amethyst necklace earlier, but his best gift was accompanying and spending time with me here.
An unshakeable warmth settled in my bones. It didn’t matter that it was winter or that my face was raw from the wind. I would’ve floated away on a cloud of sunny bliss had Kai not been holding my hand.
“The first part of my birthday wish came true,” I said when we resumed our walk. “Let’s see about the second part.” Unfortunately, it wasn’t something money could buy.
Kai gave me a quizzical look. “What’s the second part?”
“To make buko pandan as good as my mother for Christmas. I’ve been trying for years.” I pictured myself puttering around the kitchen in an adorable apron and Kai’s amazed expression when he ate my masterpiece of a dessert. “It’ll happen. Just wait.”
KAI
Isabella did not, in fact, make buko pandan as good as her mother.
I’d never tasted the Valencia matriarch’s famed recipe, but one bite of the cold dessert told me all I needed to know.
“I don’t understand.” Isabella stared at the delicacy with dismay. “I could’ve sworn I got the ratio of ingredients right this time! How does my mom do it?”
She flopped onto the kitchen stool in a fluff of reindeer-print wool and despair. She looked so adorable I couldn’t repress a smile, despite the delicacy of the situation.
“I’m afraid there are certain superpowers only mothers have.” I added an extra heap of marshmallows to a steaming mug of hot chocolate and pushed it toward her. “Cooking traditional recipes being one of them.”
Isabella took a morose sip of the sugar-laden drink. “Is it that bad?”
Yes. I was fairly certain that the usually sweet dish wasn’t supposed to be so…salty. But while I operated on a general principle of honesty, wild horses couldn’t drag this particular truth out of me.
“It’s perfectly edible.” I stirred milk into my tea and prayed she didn’t ask me to elaborate or, God forbid, take another bite. “However, it’s Christmas. We should be enjoying the day instead of, ah, cooking. Why don’t I order food instead?”
She acquiesced with a sigh. “That’s probably a good idea.”
I hid my relief and placed the order on my phone.
We were supposed to tackle her mom’s Christmas recipes last night, but we got…distracted after she’d showed up at my front door wearing a red dress. Granted, the dress had been modest by Isabella’s standards, but it didn’t matter. She could wear a potato sack and the sight would still hit me in the gut.
It was quite concerning. I had half a mind to fund research on her baffling impact on me during my next round of scientific donations.
We migrated from the kitchen to the dining room, which my housekeeper had decorated with a massive flocked Christmas tree after Thanksgiving. White marble reindeer sculptures, sleek gold wreaths, and a row of snowy velvet stockings added to the festive atmosphere.
“This is so beautiful.” Isabella ran her hands over the stockings. “If I were you, I’d never take these down.”
Warmth sparked in my stomach.
I asked for the same decor every year. Changing it annually was a waste of time and efficiency, and I’d never thought much about it. But seeing them through her eyes made me appreciate the details just a little more.
“I could keep them up,” I said. “But then there’d be no fall decor, Halloween decor, Lunar New Year decor…”
“Good point.” She dropped her hand with another sigh. “I hate how you keep making those.”
Our food arrived with surprising speed, and after some debate over Netflix versus board games, we settled into increasingly competitive rounds of Scrabble over cinnamon roll pancakes, champagne donuts, eggs Benedict, and sweet potato hash.
“Vizcacha? Are you kidding?” Isabella slapped her palm against the board when I won the third round in a row. “How do you come up with these words?”
“You came up with quetzals in the last round,” I pointed out.
“One, I visited Guatemala in college, and two, I still lost.” She narrowed her eyes. “Are you cheating?”
“I don’t need to cheat,” I said, offended. “Cheating is for the intellectually lazy and dishonest.”
Isabella came close to beating me a few times, but we finished with a final score of five to zero. I almost let her win at the end, but she wouldn’t take kindly to a pity loss from me. Plus, the thought of willingly giving up a victory curdled like bile in my stomach.