"So it's just us up here?" she asked, glancing around. The rooftop was serene—no waiters hovering, no music except the hum of the city below, and the faint scent of roses drifting from planters arranged around the terrace.
"Yeah," Winn replied, settling into his chair. "I'll call them when we're ready to eat."
"We really are doing this, uhn?"
"I think I'm more nervous than you are." He exhaled and gave her a smile that looked almost boyish, so different from the polished, untouchable man he presented to the world. "Still afraid something is going to go wrong."
"Why?" she asked softly, curiosity pricking at her.
Winn sighed heavily, leaning back against his chair. "Uh…let's not talk about that." His gaze shifted. He cleared his throat. "What kind of wedding do you want?"
She hesitated, surprised by the sudden pivot. "Uh…I think a small one. Family, close friends. Something…intimate."
