They kept continuing to kiss until Clara stopped Paul by putting her hand on his chest. She pulled away, breathless. She looked through her tote bag and brought out her lipstick and reapplied a layer. She looked at him funny. She brought out a tissue from her purse and handed it to him.

"You've got a little lipstick there, sweetie," she said. She motioned to his chin, and upper lip. Paul wiped the lipstick away in the dark. He rolled the tissue up and put it on his lap to dump later. A minute passed, Paul reached out to hold Clara's hand.

"Do you have a little mirror?" He asked, still thinking about the lipstick. Clara smiled, then handed him her compact mirror. He looked at his reflection, then wiped his chin a little more before closing the mirror.

"So, where are we off to?"

It was so weird being in Clara's presence, Paul reached out to stroke her chin. "It's a surprise."

"Are you going to have me close my eyes and everything?" She asked. He nodded. When they got closer to the museum, a street away, he made her close her eyes. Clara pouted, and Paul was tempted to just kiss her and let the mystery fade away.

He didn't. He resisted, and Clara closed her eyes. Paul got lost in the sight of Las Vegas at night. The artificial lights lit up the night, making their own stars. He looked through his window, and marveled at the city Clara was from. He wanted to know more, like where she was going to attend college, or where she liked to eat.

When the car stopped, Paul got out first. He walked towards Clara's side and opened the door. "Take my hand," he instructed. Clara did as told, and used his hand as support to get up. He walked slowly, guiding Clara as to where she could step.

At the museum entrance, a guard opened the door for Paul. When they stepped inside, he locked the door again. It was all theirs, the whole place. Nothing was off limits. Their dinner was going to be served in the second floor, is what Paul had been told. He lead Clara towards the elevator, and waited as the doors opened.

"Alright," Clara said. "It's quiet, and we're going up an elevator. I deduce I'm in an empty building and you're going to throw me from somewhere up high."

"Shush, silly," Paul replied. The elevator stopped at the second floor. Clara opened one of her eyes to peek, but Paul caught her. She grinned. His hands slid over her back, before settling above her eyes.

"Did you just put your hands over my eyes?" She questioned. "You're lame."

"I won't succumb to your insults and let you peek."

Clara groaned. "Ah, damn it. Should I insult your song-writing skills, then? Will that work?"

The elevator opened. Paul told Clara to move forward and she did. They walked together towards a well lit up path. In the middle of the open space surrounded by paintings, was a table and a waiter waiting for them. Paul let go.

"You can look now," he said. Clara opened her eyes, then gasped.

She hit his chest. "Shut up!"

"Owww."

"Sorry," Clara rubbed his chest, then turned to look at the room. "This is better than anything I could have possibly imagined."

"I'm glad you like it," he was smiling. A part of him was afraid Clara would be disappointed and all of his planning would be for nothing. Alas, that wasn't the case. Clara turned towards him, and kissed him.

"Are we allowed to walk around?" She grabbed his arm.

"Only this floor, the first floor is still off limits," he said. Clara tugged them along. They explored the second floor, looking at paintings and sculptures. Clara moved from painting to painting quickly, pointing them out to Paul and gasping.

"Is it my imagination or does everything look better at night? I came here once in sixth grade and I don't remember it being this pretty," she told him. Paul on the other hand, stopped to read the information about the painting. He followed Clara, and told her the information he had collected. "Can we eat?"

"Let's go," Paul said. It took them five minutes to find their table again. Clara said hello to the waiter, and thanked him when he pulled the chair for her.

"Can I get you started with some wine?" The waiter asked.

"Uh, yes please," Clara said. She paid close attention to the waiter as he poured the wine. Paul looked at her look at the waiter. "Have you been paid already?"

"Excuse me?"

"Have you been paid already?"

The waiter turned to look at Paul. "Sir?" He asked. Paul shrugged a shoulder. The waiter turned back to Clara. "Yes, I have."

"Bring the food and go do something fun," she told him. "Go kiss a girl, or a boy. Go have some fun. We can take it from here."

"Are you sure?" Again, the waiter turned to look at Paul.

"Paul?" Clara asked. "Is that okay? Can he go?"

"Sure, if you want," he replied. Clara nodded her head. All of the things Paul had pictured happening tonight, Clara dismissing the waiter was not one of them. But he liked that, he liked that he didn't know everything. He liked that he didn't have to know a lot about Clara to know he liked her a lot.

"Thank you both," the waiter said. He nodded his head. "I'll be right back with your food."

"I feel like dancing," Clara announced. She stood up, and Paul followed her. With the little control remote that was on the table, he turned the music playing from speakers up. He took Clara's hand, and they took their positions. "I took ballet for five years."

"You did?"

"Hmm."

"Why did you stop taking classes?"

They started to dance, Clara unknowingly taking the lead. Paul let her. Clara licked her lips. "It got boring after a while, so instead I took up tennis for a couple of years."

The waiter came back with the wine first. He poured them a glass. Clara took her glass, and drank. She danced and drank, and Paul twirled her. He grabbed his own glass of wine and took a couple of sips. Paul was overwhelmed by Clara's beauty. He couldn't help but tell her so.

"I was just telling you something nice and that's all you're thinking about?" She shook her head.

"Well..."

"I'm kidding," she said. She hit his shoulder playfully. "You look pretty damn good too."

When the food was served, Paul lead Clara to the table, and pulled the chair for her. Clara took a seat, the waiter made sure everything was okay with their food and they were content before leaving. Clara thanked him, and opened up her tote bag to give him a tip. The waiter stopped her, and got flustered.

"Just take my money," Clara said. She handed him the money. "Take it."

The waiter did as told before thanking Clara again, and leaving. Without the waiter, Clara started to talk more. She complimented the food. They talked about the art they had seen. Paul listened, and asked her what the favorite thing she had seen was.

"It was the pictures of being on the road," she replied. "I don't know, they reminded me of how much I want to travel. What about you?"

"Yes, those pictures were nice. Maybe we can go somewhere. Where do you want to go first?"

"Paris."

Paris, right, he reminded she had asked if Paris was a cliche answer. "Where in America?"

"The Grand Canyon. Arizona is close enough, have you seen pictures of Sedona? All the pretty red rocks, the pretty clear skies, the resorts and spa's. It'd be nice to get pampered," she sipped her wine. "What where you doing when you came to Vegas?"

"Relaxing."

Clara burst into laughter. "Relaxing in Vegas. I don't know, I guess I don't think of Vegas that way? I've always just thought its really fast paced, and there's so much to get done. Did you relax, did it work?"

"I got injured and lost my mobile," he said.

"That last bit doesn't sound so bad, eh?"

"Cheers to that," Paul clinked his glass with Clara's, and they smiled.

...

They walked around the second floor, despite having already walked there already. In the parts where the lights didn't automatically turn on, they paused and took a seat. They kissed in the darkness. Then they kept walking. Then they kissed. They kept doing this until was midnight, and they had to go.

Their table was picked up and put away. The security guard came to collect them. When they stepped out of the museum, the car was already waiting for them. Paul opened the door for Clara, and Clara took a seat. In the back seat of the car, Clara told him about the places she'd been to and what she'd done there.

They passed by the college she was going to attend in the fall, and they asked the driver to stop. From the car, Clara pointed out where things were. Soon, they were back at Clara's house.

"Do you want to come in?" Clara asked him.

"Your dad's inside," Paul answered, his eyes growing ever so slightly.

"I was talking about getting some tea or something, geez."

"No, I mean," he cleared his throat. "If you want to. I can have a cup of tea."

"It's fine, Paulie. My dad is probably sleeping and he's a light sleeper. We'll call it a night, yeah?" She asked. Paul nodded. He kissed her. He let go quickly, but then he kissed her again.

"You had fun, right?"

"I had fun."

Clara exited the car. Paul watched her walk up the driveway, and unlock the front door. He waited a minute, and a minute later Clara waved from her upstairs bedroom. Paul waved back, and told the driver to go.