Page 51 of Building Romance
I’m quiet as the driver takes us back to my apartment building. Fletcher reaches over and grasps my hand, placing it in his lap, his thumb stroking my palm. I look down at our joined hands and wonder what upside-down world I’ve fallen into. I feel like Alice and I just went down the rabbit hole. Nothing makes sense.
I should hate Fletcher McDowell. I should be focused on using my winnings to ensure my business outperforms his. I should text Max and ask his advice, but right now, I just want to hang out with the people I care about, and if I’m honest, Fletcher is one of them.
The car stops outside my building and Fletcher helps me with my bag. We walk up to my apartment and drop it off before going up to the rooftop. There’s a light snow tonight. Al has the heat lamps going and the fire pit.
Everyone turns when we open the door and yells, “Congratulations.”
They have a cake and champagne. I get hugged by all my friends. They even shake Fletcher’s hand, well, everyone except Margie and Cornelia who give him big hugs. He clearly won them over at the last happy hour with his discussion of Frank Sinatra songs.
“Pizza’s hear,” Hutch says as he walks onto the roof with a stack of our favorite pizza from the place down the street.
Everyone digs in. I grab two slices, realizing I haven’t eaten since this morning. I’m famished and exhausted. But excited to be home.
“Are you famous now?” Ava asks as she sits on Bray’s lap and eats a slice of cheese pizza.
“No. Not famous,” I assure her.
“Oh. Well, maybe you’ll be famous soon,” she says with a big grin that’s covered in pizza sauce.
Carly hands her a napkin and she rubs her face, smearing it more than wiping it away. Bray takes the napkin and wipes her face and she giggles.
“Unca Bray!” she yelps.
I’m two glasses of champagne into the evening and feeling great. I turn to Fletcher and decide now is the perfect time to mess with him.
“Frank,” I state as I look at him.
He smirks and shakes his head.
“George?” I ask.
“Nope,” he says as he takes a large bite of pepperoni pizza.
“Who’s George?” Ava asks.
“No one. I’m just trying to…guess the name of Fletcher’s very short, skinny friend with giant dark bushy hair,” I say, my lips twitching.
Fletcher glares at me. “Hey, my friend is not short and skinny, and just so you know, he doesn’t wear his hair long.”
“What am I missing?” Drew asks, looking between us.
“Oh, nothing. Just a funny little inside joke,” I state. I look back over at Fletcher and wink. He gives me a pointed look.
“Charles?” I mouth.
A smile ghosts his lips and he shakes his head.
“Is your friend’s name Peter?” Ava asks.
Fletcher nearly chokes on his drink and I pat his back.
“Nope,” he manages after a beat. I notice his cheeks are pink and I press my lips together to keep from laughing.
“Well, I think Peter would be the perfect name,” I say giving Ava a big smile. She grins back at me.
“Me too,” she says happily oblivious.
“Anyhow, thanks for throwing us a party,” Fletcher says to Al.
