7. He Makes Me Feel Safe, Even While Pushing My Buttons
“O h, that’s not good,” Nick mumbled while the elevator buzzed with an annoying alarm.
I pushed him aside, my tiny elbow knocking him away as I frantically pressed the buttons.
“What did you do?” I asked loudly, partially to Nick, partially to me. I admitted he was cute— actually cute —my last declaration like some magical incantation that locked us in this metal shoebox. How? Why? Was I really stuck in here after confessing that?
“I didn’t do anything,” Nick assured calmly. “These old elevators sometimes need a little help.”
“Well, you’re the help, right?”
“I’m the super.”
“Doesn’t that involve this?”
“This is a little outside my wheelhouse.” Nick laid his bags on the floor, hovering over my shoulder. “This requires an engineer sometimes… though I doubt it’s serious.”
I pulled out my phone and sighed, the screen completely black, entirely dead. “You have to call someone!”
“I don’t have my phone… but it’s ok, there’s a button here for service.”
“Are they fast? Could we fall?” I turned toward him, worried.
Maybe death by elevator wouldn’t be so bad, a swifter and more merciful sentence than being stuck with Nick after telling him how I felt. My antlers jingled back and forth as I switched between facing Nick and the buttons.
“Yes, they’re fast. And no one is falling.”
“It’s New York, it’s happened before.”
“I won’t let it happen to you,” Nick’s hand reached toward my waist, pressing the emergency call button. “If we fall, I’ll lift you up.”
“Lift me?” I squeaked.
“Yes… I’ll make sure you’re secure before we hit the bottom. I’ll hold you in my arms and lie on my back.”
“Does that work?” I froze, quickly swiping my headband off.
“Of course. It’s elevator safety 101. But we’re not falling,” Nick laughed.
I stared up at him, horrified at how stupid I looked again. He seemed focused on the buttons as I stood frigid, concerned that I had somehow creeped him out with my comment.
Was it too much?
Would he still come fix my sink eventually?
I hated to think that my quick admission would soon become an awkward tombstone to our relationship. Before I blurted out to Nick, I imagined leaving this elevator, and allowing my confidence to do the convincing on how sexy I could be.
This whole scenario was quite literally the opposite of what Camilla suggested!
Ugh, I’m such a mess.
Nick, though?
He seemed unfazed.
In fact, he fought a smile as he locked his eyes onto mine, almost laughing at how shocked I must have appeared.
“Is this funny to you, Nicholas Stafford!” I shouted.
Nicholas?
Did I just use his full name?
He inched closer, nearly sandwiching me against the wall and intercom.
“It’s a little funny,” he whispered sweetly, sending me into an almost hypnotic calmness.
“MAP communications, this is Linda, how may I help you?” An older woman’s voice came through the intercom as Nick cleared his throat.
“Hi, yes. We seem to be stuck in our elevator.”
“Residential or commercial?” she asked. I couldn’t help but pipe in.
“Residential! There’s an alarm going off, and I’m trying to exit the fifth floor.”
“ Do you see the button with two arrows facing the opposite directions?”
“You mean the one I keep smashing.” Nick and I took turns pecking at it.
“Yes. Stop clicking it.”
Nick rubbed his chin as he spoke patiently. “I’m thinking one of the emergency switches was accidentally triggered.”
“Most likely… do you see the ‘Push Run’ button?”
“Yes.”
“Is it engaged?”
“How can you tell?”
“Before you press anything, let me get your address in case we get disconnected. I can dispatch the fire department over there in seconds.”
Yes, god, send anyone! A firefighter, a construction worker, a deli owner, anyone at all who could free us from this thing. I leaned into Nick so the lady could hear me. “Thank you! We’re down in SOHO, Prince Street, 143?—”
I could barely get the numbers out, as Nick twisted a knob.
Immediately the alarm went off.
Along with the lights.
“Oh, shit,” Nick whispered.
“Nicholas!”
Full name? Two times in a row?
A red emergency light slowly came on from above, barely illuminating our faces in the dimly lit elevator. Nick twisted the knob again, but the lady on the other end was gone, left only with the first three numbers of our address.
I tired not to panic as I turned to Nick with the widest eyes ever.
He grinned apologetically, lifting up the
large Sichuan Garden bag as an offering. “Hungry?”