Chapter 4
Please don’t stop here. Please don’t stop here. Please don’t stop here.
“And here we are,” Jay says as we stop in front of Rockefeller Center. Obviously I knew we were stopping here, since it’s a total touristy place to go, but I still hoped.
“I’m not going up there,” I say as we stop in front of the seriously tall building. I plant my feet firmly on the sidewalk, my stance immovable. Well, I’m sure it’s movable, as Jay is quite a bit taller and bigger than me. But I can put up a good fight if need be. Plus, there’s always the pepper spray.
Jay shakes his head. “I wasn’t going to make you go up there.” He points to the top. “I do need to make a call, though. So just hang for a second.”
He walks about ten feet away, his back toward me. Which leaves me time to stare at his backside without being caught ogling. I have to say, it’s a nice backside. My giddy hormones giggle inside my stomach. Down, ladies.
“Okay, thanks so much. I owe you,” he says after a very brief phone conversation that I caught bits and pieces of. Because I was eavesdropping, obviously.
He pockets the phone as he walks toward me.
“So if we aren’t going to the top, what are we doing?” I ask, really wanting to know what his plan is so I can start preparations for my probable panic attack.
“It’s a surprise. I had to call in a favor,” he says.
I eye him suspiciously. “What kind of favor?” I ask.
“You’ll see.”
Five minutes later, guided by an employee of the building and after a short ride up an elevator—which was surprisingly not too bad—Jay and I stand looking over what appears to be a rooftop garden.
“Oh wow,” I say as I look around the beautifully manicured space. It’s a garden. On a rooftop. In all my life, I’ve never actually seen one. Probably because I hate heights, but wow, I’ve been missing out. The stark contrast between the building top and the bright greenery is almost breathtaking. Or I may have just forgotten to breathe since we’re up high and all that.
“Beautiful,” Jay says as he takes a step forward, looking around at the sight in front of us.
It’s set up like a courtyard, with stone planter boxes filled with Buxus hedging surrounding the outer edge. More hedging, topiaries, and bright flowers in more stone planter boxes make up the middle area, forming a small courtyard with seating. Near the back end is a square water feature with a golden statue of a frog with water spouting out of its mouth.
“I’ve never seen anything like it,” I say.
“Me either,” Jay says. “I mean, I saw it online when I was planning my day here, but in person, it’s even more amazing.”
“Why are we practically the only ones up here?” I ask, spying a few people in the corner having a chat. In their business attire, they look more like they work here. Definitely not tourists.
“Because it’s closed to the public,” he says.
“How did you get us up here?”
“My stepsister knows the guy that took us up here,” he says and then gives me a buoyant smile.
“Nice to have hookups,” I say, my eyes taking in my surroundings again.
“That’s about the only hookup I have,” he says.
“I can get you a tour of a paper mill,” I say. “Sadly, that’s my only hookup.”
“A paper mill, you say?” Jay puts an index finger to his chin, deliberately trying to look pensive. “Sounds fascinating.”
“Oh, it really is,” I say, oozing sarcasm. “You’ll love the smell.”
“I’ll add it to my bucket list,” he says, not carrying the sarcasm in his tone that I would’ve expected. Maybe he’s serious?
He motions to a bench and we sit down. The buildings near us seem so close, like I could reach out and touch them. And it’s quiet up here. So quiet.
Jay and I sit in companionable silence, both of us taking in our surroundings. He’s so close that his leg is touching mine just barely. I try not to concentrate on it too hard so that my hormones don’t up and make some sort of cheerleading pyramid. But the not concentrating only takes my mind to that other place—the one that I’ve tucked in the corner but I can still barely hear screaming, “Who are you and what have you done with Liza!” The part of my brain that keeps me safe from doing crazy things like this.Sitting on a rooftop garden with someone who was a complete stranger not even hours ago. And for all intents and purposes, is still a stranger.At least he is on paper. Off paper, he seems like someone I’ve known for ages. I’ve read about this kind of phenomenon in books and heard others speak of it, but it’s never actually happened to me.
