Unmasked

I look down in concern. “You weren’t kidding about heights.”

“My dad tried to take me up the Empire State Building once.” She takes a shaky breath as we slowly climb up the side of the building. “I had a panic attack halfway up. They had to carry me out.” She peers out of the cage, and I can see the fear written all over her face.

Guilt strikes through me. I wish I hadn’t brought her here, but it’s already too late to take it back. “I promise you, the view will be worth it,” I try to reassure her, turning her body back to face me. “Just think about something else.”

“Like what?” Noelle blinks up at me. Her whole body is tense, stiff as a rod.

“Like this.”

I lower my head and claim her lips in a slow, deep kiss. Noelle stays frozen for a moment, but as I slide my tongue into her mouth, she melts into me.

Damn.

I bring her body close, my arms tight around her. I could tell myself it’s to make her feel safe as the elevator slowly climbs the building, but that would be a lie.

I need to feel her. Every inch.

Noelle’s lips part, wider, and I drink her in. Our tongues caress in a dangerous dance, and just like before—in the street, at the party, in the back of that bar—I lose track of everything but her heat and the fire burning between us, reckless and wild.

Before I realize it, the elevator shudders to a halt. I pull away, scolding myself for losing control again. But Noelle still clings tightly to me. “See, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” I ask, trying to soothe her.

“Ask me after we get down again.” She edges out of the cage, then lets out an audible sigh of relief as her feet find solid ground. We’re on the rooftop now, high above the city, but I guess anything’s better than that shaky elevator.

“Trust me,” I promise her. “Once you’ve seen this, you won’t ever want to leave.”

I lead her across the expanse of concrete. The views are incredible, but when I stop on the edge of the roof, I turn to find she’s fixed her gaze firmly on the ground.

I move her in front of me, my hands on her shoulders. “Now, isn’t that the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen?”

Noelle looks up.

“Wow,” she whispers, gazing out at the city lights. We’re facing west, towards the river; New York City lit up beneath us. Rivers of gold and red and white crisscrossing the island, the darkness of the river, and the land beyond. It’s a private world here, suspended above the city. A hundred-million-dollar view.

“OK, I forgive you for making me go up in that elevator,” she laughs, spinning around. “This is amazing!”

Relief crashes through me. When I saw her fear downstairs, I thought I’d ruined tonight without even trying.

“I can’t believe you own this view,” she continues, heading over to the side of the roof. There’s construction stuff stacked there: crates and cement bags. Noelle finds a pallet covered in a tarp, and hops up to sit on top.

“Me, the bank, and a few private financiers,” I correct her. I walk over slowly, struck by the contrast between her silk dress and all this unfinished mess. A jewel in the dust.

“Still…” Noelle lies back, until she’s staring up at the sky. “Look at it. I could stay here forever.”

I sit beside her and lie back until we’re side by side. I’ve never seen the view from this angle: the way the buildings around us loom up overhead, their lights bright in the midnight sky.

I turn my head. Noelle is watching the stars, a blissful look on her face. Her hair spills around her head in a tangle of blonde curls, begging to be touched.

If you asked me to pick a view to stare at for the next ten years, I’d choose her. No question about it.

“How long have you lived in the city?” I ask. I know I told her I didn’t want to do the usual Q&A, but I can’t help it. I need to know more.

“I’ve been here my whole life.” Noelle props her head up on one hand, facing me. “What about you?”

“I don’t really live here.” I think of the travel bag I have packed at all times. “I keep an apartment, but I travel so much for work, I’m never in one place for longer than a few months at a time.”

“I can’t imagine bouncing around like that,” Noelle muses. “But it must be nice, exploring new places.”

I shrug. “Most of the time, I’m working. Figuring out the next hot neighborhoods, or where it’s best to start a project.”

“I don’t believe it.” She gives me a teasing grin. “You’re not some boring suit. You’re off rescuing damsels in distress and embarking on all kinds of crazy adventures.”

“Guilty as charged,” I lie. I don’t have the heart to tell her I’m exactly that kind of boring suit. I like the way she’s looking at me too much: as if I’m the man she imagines, and not the dull truth.

Noelle lies back again, shifting to get comfortable. “I read somewhere that there are an infinite number of possible universes,” she says, reaching up, like she’s tracing the outline of the constellations. “That means there’s a billion alternate versions of you out there. Living a totally different life.”

I watch her, feeling like I’m an alternate version of myself right now. I’m not used to being spontaneous like this; acting without thought and planning.

But something about her makes me forget myself. I feel like the slate’s wiped clean. She doesn’t know my reputation as a steel-cold negotiator. With her, I have no responsibilities, no pressure.