“Morning. You look handsome,” she says, looking at my blue jeans and white polo. I put my aviators back on and take off toward the private airstrip. I park the car and get the luggage out. The plane is waiting, so we board as soon as we check in.

She stands in front of me, taking off her jacket. “You should have worn the skirt,” I tell her, grabbing her ass, and she looks around. “Mile high club.”

“I didn’t know that was an option?” She winks at me. “There is always the flight back home.”

I clap my hands together. “Now we’re talking.”

“Welcome back, Mr. Dimitris,” the blonde flight attendant says with a smile. “We will be leaving as soon as you’re seated.”

The flight takes three hours, and we spend it sitting on the couch going over the things she wants to do while we are there. We step off the plane, and the mugginess hits us right away. “Well, I don’t need this jacket.” She folds the jacket over her arm. I let her step off first, and there is a car waiting for us. She slides into the back seat and waits for me. “Will you tell me where we are staying now?” she asks, turning her body toward me. I’ve kept pretty much the whole trip a surprise to her.

“I was going to rent us a house, but then I decided to stay in the French quarter.” I grab her hand and bring it to my lips. “We are staying at the Ritz-Carlton.”

Her eyes light up with a smile. “It really doesn’t matter where we stay.” She looks outside and then turns back. “But, just for the record, I approve.”

I shake my head and laugh, looking out the window as the car takes us to the hotel, and when we pull up to the front door, someone is there to open the car door for us. I watch her get out and then I get out on my own side. Walking around the car, I look around, and a man comes out in a Ritz-Carlton uniform. “Mr. Dimitris, welcome,” he says, coming to me and shaking my hand. “It’s an honor to have you.”

“Thank you,” I say, shaking his hand.