New Year's Steve

Winter Camellias cover just about every square inch of the space, their fragrance stronger than I would have ever expected. The red, pink, and white flowers create a canopy from the outside world. Tiny white twinkly lights are weaved through the trellises, making everything seem to glow.

Twinkle. Glow.

A table for two sits in the middle of it all, boasting a gorgeous centerpiece with more of my favorite blooms floating amongst tea candles. The tablecloth is crisp and the place settings are sparkling.

Candles, candles everywhere.

Stunning.

And Fritz was right; I don’t even see the heaters, probably hidden behind all the flowers, and while there’s a nip in the air, the temperature is pleasant.

I won’t freeze.

A bit begrudgingly, I have to admit — if this is the way Steve impresses a girl, I could have done worse. This set-up is impressive and amazing.

In the corner, a man is stepping out from the shadows.

A man I… recognize.

A man I’ve been thinking and daydreaming about; a man I thought about while riding the elevator to this very roof.

My eyes damn near bug out of my skull, lashes fluttering.

“Harry?”

My heart picks up speed as my brain runs through all the scenarios. Did he help set this up? Does he know Steve? Did my date hire him to serve dinner because Harry works in the building? Is Harry a catfish? Is Steve?

This cannot be happening. Am I caught on the damn roof with a man I’m here to meet and the man I’ve been lusting after for the past several hours?

Questions play on a loop in my mind, stomach in knots.

I want to barf, but Fritz took my bag, and I refuse to ruin these shoes.

“Hi Felicity.”

The more I look at him, the more I realize he’s not dressed like part of the serving staff. In fact, he’s not dressed like a maintenance man at all.

I take a few steps forward. “What are you doing here?”

He smooths his hand down his tie and I swear he takes a long, steadying breath before saying, “We have a date.”

My eyes look back and forth at his, trying to make heads or tails of the situation.

“No. I have a date with Steve. You are not him.”

He takes a step forward stopping right in front of me and a gust of wind blows; he smells so good. Better than he had earlier in the day, and even in my three-inch heels I have to look up at him.

He is that tall and commanding.

Swoon.

“Felicity, I’m… Steve.”

Naturally, my head gives a little shake. “No. You’re Harry.”

“Right.”

So is he agreeing with me, after he just told me his name is Steve?

“So what, like you have two names?”

“Yes. Like almost everyone. My full name is Harrison…”

Harry…

“Steven…”

Steve…

“McGinnis.”

McGin…

“Wait… WHAT??” I’m practically shouting now. “You’re…”

My brain works overtime, connecting the dots: He was on my floor today because he was working. He had keys to all the offices and closets because it is his company. He set up our date on top of the building because HE OWNS IT.

Pointing at him I accuse, “You’re Harrison McGinnis. Mr. McGinnis. My boss.”

He bobbles his head from side to side. “Technically, Victoria is your boss. I’m just her boss.”

Oh, he’s going to be cute about it now?

“That is not helping.” I pace the small area, trying not to hyperventilate, all the excitement and anticipation I had, fizzling like the champagne in the glasses nearby. “You… you’re… Why did you tell me your name was Harry?”

He shrugs like this is no big deal. Au contraire, Mister. This is a huge deal. “My name is Harry. Just… Harrison.”

“But I had you fixing my light and my heater and… oh my god you fixed the tampon machine!”

That’s it. I have to find another job. Forget seniority. Forget my extra comp day. I’m officially humiliated and need to pack my things and move across the country immediately.

“I fixed the tampon machine because it needed to be fixed. And I… are you okay Felicity?”

I’m fanning myself, breathing heavily. Why can’t I catch a breath?

“Is it hot out here?”

“No, it’s actually on the chilly side.” His eyes flash concern and he’s immediately at my side. “Come sit down.” Guiding me into the world’s most comfortable dining chair because of the extra fluffy cushion on the seat, he hands me a glass of water. “Drink this.”

I do as he instructs, the cool liquid confirming how very hot the rest of me is as it slides down my throat. Closing my eyes, I take a few deep, calming breaths, concentrating on how good Harry smells. And oh man does he. I could eat him up. After I eat up this dinner of course because did I see empanadas?

Finally feeling like I have myself under control again, I slowly open my eyes to see Harry staring at me, concern written all over his face.