Page 54 of The Compass Series

“So…” He leaned in closer to me and swiped his thumb against his bottom lip as his eyes sparkled with intrigue. “What was the happiest thing that happened to you this year?”

I laughed. “That’s a big question.”

“I need to ask the big questions now because I won’t get to ask them ever again. I think it’s important in life to ask the big questions when you get a chance.”

My stomach fluttered with nerves as I shifted a bit in my seat.

He was asking me to be an open book to him for the evening, and most of the time, my thoughts were like a locked diary.

Only I had the key, and I never shared it with anyone else.

Honestly, no one seemed interested enough to read said thoughts.

But still, I told him. I didn’t know if it was due to my buzz or the intrigue of him, but I opened up and shared.

“I got an internship at my dream job. It’s a very underpaid and underappreciated internship, but I figured now that I have my foot in the door, I can maybe move my way up to be a junior editor at the magazine.”

“A junior editor? So you’re a writer?”

“A wannabe writer. I’m getting my degree in journalism and hope to someday get myself to a senior editor position.”

“You will.”

He said the two words with such certainty that I almost believed him.

“I don’t know. It’s a very competitive industry, especially in New York.”

“Do you love it? Writing?”

“Yes.”

“Then the competitive nature doesn’t matter. If you have a dream, fight for it.”

“Other people are fighting for the same dream, too, though.”

He leaned back against the seat and lay his arm across the top of it.

“If you think about others trying to get your dream, you’re wasting your energy on the things that don’t matter.

The only real estate in your mind should be you and your dream.

Life is short. We don’t have the time to look at what other people are doing. That sidetracks us from our destiny.”

I smiled. “You must have a dream of your own.”

He glanced around the bar and shook his head. “Have you been on the rooftop of this building?”

“No, never.”

“It has one of the best views. I come here at least once a week just to breathe up there and clear my mind.” He stood, lifting his drink, and held his hand out toward me.

I raised a brow. “You just bulldozed through the crowd to get this booth, and you’re telling me you’re willing to give it up to go stand on the roof?”

“Sometimes you have to move when your soul tells you to move,” he replied.

“Which philosopher said that?”

He bit the corner of his bottom lip and shrugged. “I did.”

Impressive.

He held his hand out toward me again. “Come on. Do you trust me?”

“When people ask ‘Do you trust me?’, it instantly makes me trust them a lot less.”

“Good, as you should. I’m a complete damn stranger. Trust is earned, and I haven’t earned it. Still, I want to show you the rooftop.”

I knew it was idiotic, but I wanted to go.

I prayed the pepper spray in my bra wouldn’t have to be pulled out that night as I took his hand with mine. The moment our palms met, a wave of warmth shot through my system, as if holding his hand was the most natural thing I’d done in quite a while.

He pulled me through the crowded space, and every now and again, I’d look down at our connected hands. After being broken up with, you missed the small things: laughing with your other half, cuddling, holding hands.

It was funny how holding hands felt like such a small feat in the relationship, yet you missed it more than words when it was gone.

We reached a door at the back of the bar, and my red flag alert went off as I dropped my hand from his. He opened the door and we looked up at a staircase that seemed to keep going for days.

“After you,” he said, nodding toward the steps.

“Oh, no.” I shook my head. “There’s no way in hell I’m going up that staircase with my back to you. If I’m honest, that idea gives me big serial killer vibes.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Do you trust me?”

“No.”

“Good.” He smiled, and hell, I was an idiot because a part of me trusted that smile. I supposed that was how Ted Bundy had succeeded.

What a twisted thought, Aaliyah. What was even more twisted was the fact that I knew I would go up that freaking staircase.

“I’ll go first, and I’ll get a few steps ahead of you, so you feel safer,” he said. His eyes looked at me with concern. “If you’re comfortable with that. Otherwise, we can go back and try to track down a table.”

Let me make one thing clear—I wasn’t a rebel. I didn’t break laws, I didn’t speak back to individuals who held authority, and I always offered my seat to the elderly on the subway. Yet for some reason, going up this staircase felt forbidden.

“Are we allowed to go up there?” I asked, noticing that no one else was even eyeing the staircase that seemed a bit hidden.

“Well, I am. You’ll just be my plus-one.”

“Why are you allowed to go up there?”

“I work with the man who owns this building.”

“What kind of work do you do?”

He smirked and held his hands up. “Red, if you’re uncomfortable, we don’t have to go up here. Or I can try to grab Tommy and have him reassure you.”

“Who’s Tommy?”

“The owner of the bar.”

“You work with him?”

“No. Tommy doesn’t own the building, but he works with the investor, who works with me.”

I narrowed my eyes and softly chewed on the tip of my thumb—a nervous habit. His eyes followed my finger before meeting my gaze again.

I cleared my throat. “How annoyed would you be if we asked Tommy?”

He laughed and shook his head. “I got beat up in front of the building earlier, and you offered me a drink and made me smile after the most humiliating moment of my life. I doubt you can do anything to annoy me tonight, Red. Come on.”

He held his hand back out to move me toward the office in the back of the bar, and I took his hand in mine once again.

I didn’t even know I missed his touch until it was given back to me.

We moved to the office, where a man sat behind his desk and was about to stand when he noticed us.

His stare met Captain’s, and he began to speak. “Hey there?—”

“Don’t say my name!” Captain shouted, waving his hands in panic.

Tommy cocked a confused eyebrow. “Okay…uh…what’s up, man? I gotta get back out there to help with the crowd.”

“Yeah, of course. Just a quick question—can I go up to the rooftop?”

Tommy chuckled. “Since when do you ask permission?”

“I want to take a friend up there,” Captain said, gesturing toward me.

“I swear to God, if you fuck Little Red Riding Hood on the top of this building, I’m going to murder you.”

My cheeks blushed, but not as much as Captain’s, which turned a strong shade of red. “Dude, that’s not it. I want to show her the view.”

“The view where you daydream like a little bitch,” Tommy joked, making Captain turn an even brighter color.

My worry began to subside as I watched the two interact.

“Go ahead and take her. That space is more yours than mine.” He looked at me.

“My apologies if he nerds out up there. The guy’s a loser. ”

Captain laughed and patted Tommy on the back. “I love you, too, Tom.” Captain turned to me and gave me a questioning look as if waiting for my next move.

I nodded and smiled. “Let’s go.”

Walking up that spiral staircase was a workout for my heart. By the time we reached the top, which took a good while, I was breathing as if I’d run a marathon. Captain didn’t seem winded at all, which must’ve been due to his superpowers.

“I should really do the StairMaster more at the gym,” I said as my breaths weaved in and out heavily.

“That machine is a devil child,” he explained as he placed his hand on the doorknob that led to the rooftop. “Are you ready?”

“Yes.”

He opened the door, and a gasp left my system as we stepped outside.

“Oh my goodness,” I exclaimed as I breathed out, looking out into the night.

We were up so high that I was shocked by how many steps we’d actually taken to make it to the top.

You could see everything from the viewpoint we stood at.

All of New York City was lit up with the night sky as the backdrop.

It was breathtaking. Everything looked so stunning from up so high.

“Wow,” I whispered.

“Exactly,” Captain replied, taking my hand into his. Every time he did that, I liked his touch a little more.

We moved to the edge of the rooftop and he pointed out at the busy city, eyes widened with passion.

“This is it, this is what I want to do. While I’m in the real estate world, that’s not my biggest dream.

My biggest dream is to create. I want to create, and I want to build.

I want to buy buildings like that one right there and flip them into luxury condominiums for the lower class.

Just think, Red. How crazy would it be to create something of luxury for people who are so far overlooked? ”

“That’s an amazing idea, but wouldn’t that cost a lot of money?”

“Yes.” He clapped his hands together and was smiling bigger than he had all night.

“That’s why I’m on a mission to make a shit ton of money.

I don’t care if I lose some if I have a crap ton.

I want to give back to people who grow up without a lot.

Then on top of the buildings, we can have greenhouses so the community has their own gardens to pick from throughout the summer and fall seasons.

Community gardens could change and save so many lives.

It would be great. The facilities could have activities for kids whose parents are working two or three jobs, to keep them out of trouble.

Plus, the units could have deep soaking tubs for the single parents who need a few moments of solitude to themselves.

” He stared out at the city lights and placed his hands against the back of his head.

“I want this so bad. I just want to help people.”