Page 45 of The Mr. Right Checklist

“I know of a place.”

“Hm?” I didn’t think he was listening.

“My buddy Rich owns an Italian restaurant on the outskirts of Sunnyvale. The dining room has a great view, so I’d imagine the view from the roof is even better. There’s no rooftop dining. You’d probably be looking at a dirty old roof.”

“I can work with that. Think he’d let me see it?”

He pulls out his phone. “I’ll give him a call and see if we can stop by.”

My efforts at small talk fall short on the forty-minute ride to the restaurant, and my frustration amplifies. I’ve gone over everything we’ve said to each other, and I can’t think of a darn thing that would have rubbed him the wrong way. I climb out of the car feeling like a guitar string strung so tight, I’m ready to snap, and force myself to focus on the restaurant. It’s impressive, all stone and dark glass, sitting majestically on the top of a hill, which reminds me of a certain walled-off man at the moment.

Said man keeps his distance as we head inside. There’s no friendly hand on my back or arm around my shoulder, and I yearn for those simple touches that showed how our friendship had blossomed.

I tuck that away as he informs the hostess we’re there to see Rich. When she goes to get him, I take a moment to admire the dark wood, plush leather, and crystal chandeliers. “I like the atmosphere. It’s romantic and luxurious without being overdone or intimidating.”

He nods. “It’s a nice place.”

I open my mouth to ask him if I’ve done something to upset him, but a deep voice booms through the silence. “Fletch.”

I turn to see a dark-haired, thick-chested, and equally thick-waisted man approaching.

“It’s great to see you.” He embraces Fletch and claps him on the back. “It’s been too long.”

“Yes, it has. Rich, this is my friend Destiny, the proposal planner I mentioned. Destiny, my buddy Rich Capella.”

Fletch’s tone is lighter than he’s used with me all afternoon, and that stings, amping up my irritation. But I manage to keep a lid on it for now and offer my hand to his friend. “Hi, Rich. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“You as well.” Rich shakes my hand. “I can’t imagine my roof is what you’re looking for, but let’s head up and you can check it out.”

As we follow him through the restaurant, I ask the question I would have asked Fletch on the way over, had I felt he was open to conversation. “How do you and Fletch know each other?”

“We grew up together and played basketball and baseball on the same teams from the time we were yay high.” He holds his hand about three feet off the floor.

“I bet you have some fun stories to share.”

“We got into some trouble, but not as much as Jimmy did.” Rich opens a door, and we follow him down a hall. “How’d you two meet?”

“I groom his dog, and I tried to marry him off to his stalker.” I tell him about the proposal fiasco as we ascend a staircase.

His deep laughter rings out as he opens another door and we step onto the roof. “That’s a great story. I’d give anything to have seen your face, Fletch . . .”

Their conversation is drowned out by the magnificent view unfolding before me as I walk to the middle of the roof, taking in the lights of the town against the backdrop of the setting sun. It’s exactly what I had hoped to find. I can picture it as clear as day. The decorated tower, café-like setup, and violinist set against the backdrop of a starry sky and twinkling lights of the town. I take out my phone, snapping pictures from every angle, mentally planning out the event. I’d cover the roof with fake grass and add a red carpet lined with gorgeous planters overflowing with red roses. No. Not red carpet. Cobblestones. They might have to be fake cobblestones, but they’d be the perfect entrance to Arjun and Maura’s magical night.

I turn around to tell Rich and Fletch as much and catch Fletch watching me, jaw tight, eyes hooded. My stomach sinks, but I won’t let that steal my joy.

“This is perfect.” I head over to them. “What would it cost to rent the roof for a night?”

“I’m sure you know what you’re doing, but have you looked at the roof?” Rich asks. “It’s going to take a crew to clean this mess up, and I don’t know how clean it’ll get.”

I haven’t looked beyond the view, and I take a moment to assess the grungy rooftop. “I don’t know much about cleaning roofs, but my father power washed the outside of his auto shop, and it looked like a whole new building when he got done. I have a picture in my mind of what this proposal should look like, and this fits it to a T. Rich, if you’re willing to rent it out for a night and you give me a ballpark price, I’ll run it by my client. If we move forward, I promise you won’t have to do a thing, and I’ll do my best not to disrupt your restaurant business.”

He looks between me and Fletch. “Are you sure about this?”

I press my hand to my chest. “I’ve already got my heart set on it. I don’t know if my client will feel the same until I put together my vision board and lay it out for him, but I have a good feeling about it.”

“Did you have a good feeling about the woman who wanted to propose to Fletch?” he asks with amusement.

“That’s a fair question,” I say at the same time Fletch says, “That wasn’t the same.”