{touch and go}
The hotel room was on the fancier side, Archie noted as he walked in pulling a suitcase behind him. His flight had been delayed, and as a result he ended up barely eating the whole day. The meal served on the plane was highly unlikely to keep the hunger at bay for an extended period of time, by which he meant until the morning of the following day.
The bathroom was decently sized; a standing shower and a bathtub still left enough space for a large sink in front of a wide, tall mirror. The towels were soft, not as soft as in some other hotels he had stayed in, but soft enough that Archie had to wonder how much a night spent in the hotel would cost him. There was an assortment of pillows, in at least three varying sizes, aligned along the headboard of the king sized bed. He looked at himself in the floor-to-ceiling mirror that had been placed on the wall left to the bed, and Archie could not help but wonder if Veronica had suggested the hotel for reasons other than its proximity to the Lodge headquarters. There had always existed a certain physical chemistry between them, neither one could deny it, though any feelings had dwindled out long before they left Riverdale behind. The two had not spoken in years, not until the business deal had come up and he was suddenly talking to a businesswoman rather than the lovely girl he had grown to know throughout high school. From what he had heard—talk around the town, and his own father—Archie learned that Veronica, the girl who had so many qualms about the family business, had entirely taken over.
Remembering what she had told him prior to his flight, Archie picked up his phone and quickly dialled the number.
"Hello, Archie," Veronica's voice always retained a certain mischievous note to it.
"Hey," he took the time to take off his tie, "just wanted to let you know that I've finally checked into the hotel."
Archie heard a chuckle on the other side of the line, "I'm very glad to hear that. Is the hotel up to your standards?"
"Up to my standards?" It was his time to chuckle. "It's way above my current standards."
"Archie," she still sounded more like a girl than a serious CEO, "you deserve only the best."
"Thank you," he paused, looking over the night-time city scape, "Ronnie." The nickname had always been a sign of endearment, even after their romance had ended.
"Tomorrow," Veronica continued, "would you prefer the meeting at 9 or 10. Better make it 10, it is pretty late and you must be exhausted."
"Yeah," he was feeling quite exhausted, and he was yet to go out and find a place to have dinner, "yeah. Ten sounds much better."
"Great, I'll see you tomorrow."
"See you, Miss Lodge."
"Oh, shut up," there was a pause on the other line, "Archibald."
"Oh, God."
"Think about it the next time you refer to me as Miss Lodge."
"I will," Archie promised.
"Good," there was shuffling on Veronica's side and for half a minute he could only hear muffled voices. "Gotta go, see you tomorrow."
"Bye," the line had already gone dead, the faint beeping signalling that Veronica Lodge had ended the conversation.
There was a time lapse, a pause between the conversation with Veronica and the time Archie left his hotel room in search of a good, nearby pizza place, or even better a burger joint. He spent the time lying on the soft bed, as the grumbling of his empty stomach increased in frequency. It felt as if his body was yelling at him, begging for food. Talking to Veronica after years of not seeing her, let alone hearing her voice, brought up memories. Sure, sometimes—when he least expected it—his father would forward an email from Lodge Industries to him, for Archie to proofread, and he would always remain a bit shocked at the mention of her name. They kept the business relationship alive, the Lodges and the Andrews, after all Hermione and Hiram may have been walking a fine line toying with the illegality of their company and actions, but it was a good—even better, a great—gateway for Andrews Construction to finally spread its wings. Soon after Archie got his scholarship, Fred was able to open another office in Maryland. Other states followed, and now the deal with Veronica—and by extent the Lodge Industries—would enable them to open a brand new office in New York. Fred had even suggested making it the main office, but Archie insisted they take it slow, test the waters before plunging in.
The deal had to be signed, and done, and delivered.
The memories though, stayed with Archie as he stepped outside into the cold evening. The bustle of the city helped him get lost, and he found himself thinking about Riverdale. He had not been back in a while, a couple of months at least. Fred had given him full control of the Maryland office and Archie immersed himself in it. The office was small though, and rather than investing there the Andrews'—coupled with a group of financial advisors—decided New York was the best place for their next investment. Backed by the Lodge Industries—a deal that Archie just had to get done the following morning—the quantity of the competition in the state would amount to nearly nothing.
Across the road, the red head spotted a burger joint. The small sign lit up just above the entrance and the place stood out as if it had been the only thing in colour. He walked in, a familiar jingle reminding him of high school days and Pop's, and ordered. The booth he sat in seemed too large for one person, but the place had been nearly empty, and it gave him a nice view of the busy street, so he felt no guilt at taking up the so much space. The food turned out to be average; nothing could ever beat Pop's burgers—even if their quality partially came from a rather sentimental place—not for Archie, at least.
He left, the burger finished, but he had left the fries half eaten, there had been too much salt on the potatoes. Outside, the city stayed the same, everything moved as if time did not pass, unlike Riverdale, or even the Maryland office. The only sign of the day dwindling was the girl in the small coffee shop on the corner. He saw her from across the busy street, mopping the floor. The sign above entrance read Amelie, and Archie thought it was a cliché name for such a French looking place. Nevertheless, he decided to go in for a cup of coffee before the meeting tomorrow; it looked like a nice enough place to have breakfast and he had been dying for a good croissant lately.
Archie threw up twice during the night; of course, he was not wrong about the burger tasting funny, but he chucked it up, at the time, to a different mixture of spices. How could he have known that—having realized he came from out of town, because he stuck out as a sore thumb—the waitress would serve him the burger that had been returned half a day ago? Finally, after 4 a.m. had passed and his stomach had been emptied the boy—because no matter how grown up he seemed, he was young still—fell asleep, cuddled up to the many pillows.
The morning came too soon, with a horrid taste in Archie's mouth and a thoroughly empty stomach. He drew himself a bath in the spacious tub, and watched the hotel room light up with the morning sun. The scruff on his face was barely a few days old, and though he had planned on shaving before the meeting, he could not bring himself to make good on that promise. Instead, he spent the time in the warm bath, relishing the way his muscles finally relaxed after a tiresome night. Next time he ate out in the city, he would make sure to visit one of the chain restaurants, not one of the local places. Not unless he was accompanied by a knowledgeable local that knew where the foods were dangerous for a delicate man such as himself.
He dressed in a daze, all the while staring at his own reflection in the mirror. The face that looked back showed no sign of the restless night he had spent; if anything the five o'clock shadow he had decided to keep made him look somewhat older and more mature. It was a good look, especially paired with the new suit his dad bought him for the deal. Archie avoided asking how much it cost—he knew it could not have been cheap—but rather enjoyed the perfect fit. The days where he would wear Fred Andrew's slightly oversized suits to business meetings were long gone. The company had grown; they had dug themselves out of debt by working hard, and at times digging themselves a bit deeper.
When he left the hotel that morning and stepped outside into the cold there was a glint of pride in Archie's eyes, an air of confidence to his demeanour, despite the horrible night he had spent in one of the most comfortable beds he had slept in, surrounded by some of the plushest pillows. He walked with a purpose, more so a man than a boy, towards the coffee shop he spotted last night. It seemed like a place that would not give him another round of food poisoning. After all, how could a bite of a croissant ruin your day?
The door jingled, transporting him—for the second time in the past 24 hours—to his hometown and the familiar diner. Inside the colours were pastel – pinks, blues, greens in the form of various subtle plants, and mostly just white and crisp. For a moment, it made him think of Betty.
Betty Cooper and her blonde hair and blue eyes.
Betty, who wore those shades so beautifully throughout high school.
Betty whom he had not talked to in years.
Betty, the girl he regretted kissing.
Betty, the girl he sometimes—when he was feeling particularly nostalgic—regretted not kissing more.
Betty Cooper who stood before him, sporting a navy shirt with a nametag, and—to add to his shock—messy bangs.
"Betty," the shock in Archie's voice was apparent.
She stared at him, blue eyes sharp beneath her blonde hair, "Archie?" He was glad to hear that the girl was as surprised as he was.
"Hi," he breathed. "Uh, hi."
"Yeah, hey."
"What—"
"Do you want to order," Betty started, but cut herself off. Her hand flew to her forehead and in a moment, she was the girl he had always known, flustered and a bit embarrassed. She rolled her eyes, chuckling to herself. "Do you want to order, what a stupid question," her smile was as bright as ever, though he could not help but notice the bags under her eyes. "Of course you want to order."
"Uh," he grinned, mind still buzzing with the revelation that she was standing in front of him, "yeah."
"So, what's it going to be?"
"Uhm, whatever is the best croissant you have here," he listened to her type in the order, "and some tea that's good for an upset stomach?"
Betty pursed her lips, "I have just the thing. You go on and sit down, I'll be right there."
"I was going to just get it to go," Archie started, "but never mind, I can sit down a for a little while." Veronica would not be upset if he happened to be a few minutes late. He could always blame it on the burger joint and food poisoning.
"So," he heard her speak before he saw her appear in his peripheral vision, "what brings you here?"
The blonde sat down in the chair across from him, and Archie could not help but stare. The tray she sat down before him had a small teapot of what she told him was fennel tea—great for an upset stomach, she claimed—and a croissant. The girl refused to tell him what it was made of.
"What if I'm allergic?"
A small crease formed between her brows as she frowned, "I've known you my whole life, I'm pretty sure I know all about your non-existent allergies, Archie Andrews."
"Maybe it's a new development," he said, taking a bite.
"I'll risk it."
Betty watched on as he chewed, observing the scruff on his face and the way his jaw tightened with each bite.
"Oh my… Betty, what is this made of?"
"Magic," she grinned teasingly, reminding him a bit too much of another girl he used to know that did that. "And some almonds."
"Knew it."
"So," the bright pink lipstick she wore made it hard for him to focus on anything other than her lips, "let me reiterate. What brings you here?"
"I was hungry," Archie replied, a smirk growing on his face.
Betty kicked him under the table, narrowing her eyes at the boy sitting across from her, and for a moment they were back at Pop's, back in Riverdale, back to being two kids who had no idea what the future held.
"I meant New York."
"Business," Archie replied, omitting details, before biting into the warm pastry.
"Look at you," there was a certain softness to Betty's smile, "a businessman." There was even a tone of pride in her voice. "So the company is doing fine, I suppose?"
"Great, even."
"That suit looks expensive."
"I did not check the tag."
"It suits you."
"Thanks, Betty," he paused for a second, looking over her face. "The bangs look great."
She left him after a minute, an array of new customers piled into the place and she had to return to the register where her co-workers were balancing the fresh unexpected load of orders. Archie counted the bills while preparing to leave. As he rummaged through the leather wallet, he made a decision, however rash and wrong and impulsive it seemed; it had to be right. His heartbeat increased significantly, as he approached Betty who stood, once again, behind the register.
"Leaving?"
"Business," he shrugged, placing the neat bills in front of her.
"That's generous," she murmured looking over the crisp bills, and he could not help but look at her lips in a slight daze.
"My card is in there," Archie hoped, with all he had, that his voice did not give away his nerves. "We should grab dinner one of these days. I'm here until Saturday."
"Oh," Betty's blue eyes widened in surprise.
"Just… text me," he smiled, shrugging his shoulders, then walked away, the jingle at the door bidding him goodbye, without turning back.
As he walked down the street, with ten minutes to spare before the meeting, he grew from the boy—that he had inevitably become before Betty Cooper—back into the man he had learned to be.
Veronica Lodge greeted him in her spacious office. Her hair was cut in a neat bob, and her lips were painted a deep red, unlike the distracting pink Betty wore. Half an hour later, the deal was signed and sealed, and they took time to catch up and talk about their lives. Veronica poured each a glass of expensive bourbon. Archie omitted mentioning Betty, and if she had any idea where Betty worked, Veronica too chose not to mention it, too.
A/N: These two just write themselves. Please review if you like this, it gives me great motivation and inspiration to continue writing. Also I promise some extra drama, pining, and a sprinkle of angst.
