The guard leads us to the east side entrance and we take a lift from the esplanade to the second floor. There we’re greeted by another guard who is working the private lift that will take us to the top. Inside the lift, Chloe reaches for my hand. It’s sweaty. Fear is oozing out of my pores now and I can feel the dizzying sensation with every inch this lift goes up.
The glass lift moves through the impressive architecture of the tower, giving a view of the intricate work of the inner side of the wrought iron structure. But with every inch we climb, my fear does, too. I close my eyes and focus on my breath. When I open them again, Chloe is there in front of me.
“I should have stayed down,” I say, closing my eyes again. “You’re missing it.”
“I’m exactly where I want to be,” she says. “Can you open your eyes and look at me?”
I open them again.
“Just focus on me. I know you can do this.”
I take a deep breath and focus on Chloe’s face. I start counting the freckles on her nose, and before I finish my tally, the lift stops at the observation deck.
“Enjoy,” the lift operator says as we depart.
“Right.” I swallow hard, but Chloe takes my hand and leads me to the platform.
“Wow,” she says, taking in the view. I focus on her and once my breathing has normalized somewhat, I shift my gaze to the horizon. On one side is the city, building and roads, bridges crossing over the Seine, while on the back side is the Jardin du Champs de Mars where we danced last night.
I find that if I look out and not down, I can control my breathing and it’s not as overwhelming.
While Chloe steps onto the clear platform, I keep a distance and take deep breaths. Again, her wonder and curiosity capture my full attention. In situations where my fear of heights is triggered, it helps to have something other than the fear to focus on. Right now, Chloe is that something for me.
She motions to a woman with her phone, asking if she’ll take a photo of us. We stay for a few more minutes, then board the lift back down. This time, I keep my eyes open and focused on Chloe’s smiling face. She stares back and squeezes my hand.
When we’re safely on the ground, she wraps her arms around my neck and kisses me.
“You did it.”
“Thank you.” I kiss her again. “For being patient with me.”
She pulls back, but I keep her body pressed to me.
“Well, you, sir, have earned a favor of your choosing.” She wiggles her eyebrows. “Feel free to make it sexual.”
I chuckle. Goofy Chloe is the sexiest. My dick immediately twitches against my zipper.
There’s no way around it, I need Chloe.
My need is more than my body’s physical response to hers pressed against mine. It’s more than having someone to comfort me during a moment of stress.
I want to laugh with her and listen to how her day went.
I want impromptu lunch dates and to be each other’s plus ones.
I want a wife and family of my own someday. Hell, I’m starting to think I want that dog she tricked me into fostering.
I want everything with Chloe, but I’ve never done this before. I’ve never had to balance running a company and being in a relationship. I want to put in the effort with Chloe. I just hope I don’t screw it up.
CHAPTER 28
Chloe
I’m on my way back to Barrett’s place after work when I get a call from the seamstress who is altering my dress for Lauren’s wedding. There was a mix up and although I had asked them to switch the delivery address to Barrett’s, it was accidentally delivered to my apartment.
I tell her it’s no big deal and reroute the driver toward 116th Street. I haven’t been to my apartment since I left nearly a month ago and it would be a good idea to check out the progress on the fix ups.
Outside the building I find a shiny new intercom system that allows residents to buzz guests in. And to my surprise, the door and handle have been changed also. I’ve got my key in my hand, but there’s nowhere to insert it. I stand back to verify that I am at the correct address. It’s only been a month but with all the sex Barrett and I are having, I might have orgasmed my old address right out of my brain.
It's the right address. What the hell has happened here?
I’m standing there wondering what to do when a familiar face opens the door from inside. It’s my neighbor Todd and he’s dressed for work in black scrubs and a backpack over his shoulders.
“Hey, Chloe, good to see you.”
He holds the door open for me.
“You, too, Todd.” I smile. He’s a big burly guy with a reddish-brown beard and bald head.