The Summer Proposal by Vi Keeland by Vi Keeland

He leaned in and whispered in my ear. “No problem. But my list of what I want to do this summer is short—just you.”





CHAPTER 11




* * *



Max



Three days after our date, Georgia finally texted me the list of things she wanted to do this summer. Most of it was stuff she’d talked about:

Unplug more

Be more spontaneous

Red hair

Volunteer

Watch the sunrise from the Highline

Go to an after-hours club

Stay out all night

Take a staycation and see the landmarks I’ve never seen

Leave work by five every day

Take two full weeks of vacation

Then there were a few we hadn’t discussed:

Get over my fear of public speaking

Join 23andMe and learn about my ancestors

The fear of public speaking one surprised me. But everything else was pretty much what I’d expected. Rather than text back, I hit Call.

Georgia answered on the first ring.

“So when do we get to start?”

“Boy, you sound anxious,” she chided. “You must be dying to see the Statue of Liberty.”

I chuckled. “Yeah, that’s what it is.”

“I don’t know. I guess we can start whenever.”

“Okay. A week from today then. This week is crazy, but my last game is Saturday afternoon, and then I’m a free man. Can you take off?”

“Monday?”

“Nope. For the next two weeks. You have take two weeks off on your list. Why not start there?”

“Hmmm… I’m not sure that’s a good idea, Max.”

“Why not?”

“Well, my new operations director has only been here a few months, and we have a lot going on, and—”

I interrupted her. “Has there been any time since you started the company that you didn’t have a lot going on?”

“No, but—”

“We’ll stay here in the city while you’re off. If anything goes wrong, you’ll be able to shoot back to the office in no time.”

“I don’t know, Max…”

“I’ll make all the plans. I promise you’ll have a good time.”

She sighed. “Alright. Though you can’t get mad if I need to come back to the office.”

“You got it.”

“I can’t believe I’m agreeing to this. But I suppose I better get going since I’ll have to be at the office until midnight the next few days to be ready to take off for two whole weeks.”

“I’ll leave you alone to do what you gotta do. But my last game is Saturday afternoon. It’s home. Will you come?”

“Yeah, I’d love to.”

“I’ll messenger the tickets over to your office.”

“Thanks, Max.”

After we hung up, I sat thinking about what I could plan for the next two weeks. I wasn’t sure of the specifics, but I knew one thing: a staycation needed a hotel.



• • •



Monday seemed to take forever to get here. On Saturday, Georgia had come to my game as promised. But she didn’t stick around after since she had to go to her office and wrap up some things before she started her time off today. I had a feeling she was probably stressing right about now, but I’d made some plans to help alleviate that as much as possible.

I arrived at her building at noon and went up to help her with her bag.

“Hey.” Her forehead was creased with worry lines. “I’m not done packing. I have no idea what to bring, since you won’t tell me any of our plans or where we’re staying.”

“Just bring comfortable clothes. Maybe something nice to go out at night once in a while.”

“You can’t just say ‘something nice to go out at night’ to a woman. We need more than that. Are we going to a fancy place? Casual? Will there be walking involved? We have heels that are for being dropped off at the door, and heels for walking a few blocks. But if it’s going to be more than that, I might need flats.” She shook her head. “Shoot. I didn’t pack flats. Only sneakers. Which reminds me—will there be exercising? Because I brought leggings and casual things, but they’re not the leggings I’d wear to the gym. I like moisture wicking for that. Oh, should I bring towels? What about rain gear? Did you bring an umbrella? Shoot. I didn’t bring ponytail holders—”

She was on the verge of losing it. So I spoke over her. “Georgia…”

Her eyes flashed to mine.

I set my hands on her shoulders. “Whatever you’re missing, we’ll buy it. We’re staying in the city, not going to the wilderness where we’re fucked if you forget the bear spray. Or if you don’t want to go shopping, we can come back here and pick up something if you need it. Take a deep breath.”

She did, but then stalked away two seconds later.

I followed her into her bedroom. When I saw the piles of shit on her bed, I got a little concerned. There had to be a few hundred hangers of crap. “You’re not planning on bringing all that, are you?”

She shook her head. “I couldn’t find a green sweater I wanted to bring. So I took half the stuff out of my closet.”

Jesus, that’s only half? “Did you find the sweater?”