New Year's Steve

Sighing as I wait for the elevator doors to open, I silently curse Harry for sucking the anticipation out of me like a pleasure vacuum, without even bothering to ask for my phone number.

Was I too forward with him? Was I not forward enough? I did my best when he was scuttling around my office, fixing things, to remain professional. Tried my best not to drop hints of my attraction, ending up with nothing to show for it except an unenthusiastic attitude for a meet up that should have been the most exciting night of my life!

Damn Skeeter for leaving me with the hottest man I’ve ever met and distracting me from tonight’s goal: meeting the man of my dreams.

At least I look hot.

My reflection in the elevator doors may be slightly distorted, but there’s no hiding my shape in the dress I chose for tonight. It may be long sleeve and high necked, but it’s a short Bodycon dress that hugs me in all the right places.

And I do mean ALL of them.

Hmm. Actually…

I turn sideways and the image is distorted just enough to make my boobs even bigger and my waist smaller. Nice ass. Great legs.

Dang girl! Get it!

I am seriously contemplating snapping a pic of my bombshell reflection for social media, when the elevator dings making me jump. Forces me to walk through the door and step into the car that will take me to the rest of my life.

Wow. Meg was right. I am super theatrical.

Focus, Felicity.

Focus on Steve, Felicity. Steve.

Not Harry, who I wish I was here with, but Steve who I am now wishing will be a dud so I can go home, put on my jammies, and pull out my vibrator while Harry’s beautiful face is still freshly vivid in my mind.

I press the button to the rooftop floor and say a quick Hail Mary that this elevator can make it all the way to the top. Which leads to the one thing that has been bothering me all night — why here? Of all the rooftops in the city, of all the buildings, why did Steve choose the place I work as the site of our first meet up and how the hell did he coordinate this?

Suddenly I feel my gut telling me something is off with him. I don’t get stalker vibes, but I also can’t put a finger on what the niggling feeling could be. I guess I’m about to find out, like it or not.

Or. I’m about to be murdered.

Could go either way.

I dig through my purse. Dammit, where is my mace?

The elevator dings once I’m all the way to the top — a place I’ve never been — and I admit to being surprised there were no lurches or lunges or groans on the way up.

I bet Harry already got someone in here to fix it, I can’t help thinking. He’s just so damn efficient.

And kind.

And hot.

And smells like man, and can do all the manly things, like fix stuff.

Shit. Steve is fifty feet away from me and I’m daydreaming about someone else! No wonder I was in dating Droughtlandia for so long. I’m a fucking mess!

The doors retract, revealing a brightly lit vestibule and an older man in uniform waiting to greet me. He’s tall but hunched over, wrinkled face weathered with age.

I groan.

If Meg was right and I have been catfished, I’m going to be sooo pissed.

“Are you… Steve?” I question, trying to keep the venom out of my voice on the off chance I’m wrong.

The old man smirks, no doubt enjoying my confusion and finding the whole thing hilarious. That’s a good sign, right?

We can laugh about it when I turn tail and leave.

“No ma’am. My name is Fritz, I work for your date. May I take your wrap and clutch for you?”

This man works for Steve? Like, is he a butler?

Wow. Steve pulled out all the stops if he’s trying to impress me by bringing his staff all the way up here on a holiday.

“I think I might need it. It’s cold out tonight.” And the roof is going to be twenty times worse than it is on the ground thirty stories below.

“Rest assured, ma’am, there are plenty of heaters on the deck. It’s nice and toasty out there if I do say so myself.” He stands taller with pride.

“Oh.” I glance down and realize the dress really does look stellar without the wrap. Even if I have a need for it later, first impressions win over, and I hand the kind gentleman my things. “Well in that case, thank you.”

“Are you ready?” Fritz asks, and am I mistaken or are his eyes twinkling?

No. I’m not.

“Yes, thank you. Lead the way.”

Fritz gives me his arm to take and I loop my hand through as he pulls open the door, my breath hitching as I take in the beauty of the sight before me.