Chapter 12
A few minutes later, Willow had also nearly forgotten that they were trapped in an elevator. The stale air and the faint hum of the emergency lights had faded into the background, replaced by their laughter and the crinkle of wrappers.
They sat side by side, backs against the metal wall, and shared the second granola bar.
This impromptu picnic was surreal yet also one of the nicest things she’d experienced in a while.
Wow. That definitely didn’t speak well for her social life. Maybe Fiona was right. Perhaps she should get out more often.
“So,” Scottie said once the mango-ginger granola bar and most of the cookies were gone, “what do we do now? You don’t happen to have a crossword puzzle or something else to help pass the time in that bottomless purse of yours, do you?”
Willow shook her head. She was well-prepared for tech glitches such as her car not starting and being stranded on the roadside for a while, but snacks were a priority over entertainment. “No crossword puzzles.”
“How about we play a game to distract ourselves?” Scottie suggested.
“Sorry, I left my Monopoly in my other purse,” Willow said with a smile.
Scottie returned the grin. “There are other games, you know? Games you don’t need a board, dice, or cards for.”
Willow eyed her skeptically. “You’re not thinking of Truth or Dare, are you?”
“Nah,” Scottie said. “There aren’t a lot of dares we could do in here.”
Actually, Willow could think of a few. A scene from a sapphic romance novel came to mind, in which one of the main characters did sexy things to the cream filling of a Twinkie.
For a second, the image of Scottie doing something similar to one of the Oreos left in the pack rose to the forefront of her mind’s eye. Heat prickled up the back of her neck.
“But we could play a truth-only version—Truth or Drink,” Scottie added. “We take turns asking a question, and if we want to pass and not answer, we have to take a shot.”
“Won’t work.” Willow pointed at her purse. “I don’t have any alcohol in here.”
“We would take a swig of water, then.”
“Water? That’s not much of a punishment.”
Scottie flashed a grin. “You say that now. But if you pass at too many questions, that pee corner will start to look like a great idea in an hour.” She tilted her head, again reminding Willow of an eager golden retriever. “So? Are we playing?”
Willow hesitated. She didn’t like revealing too much about herself.
But they had time to kill, and keeping Scottie distracted seemed like a good idea.
If she was honest with herself, she had to admit she was also curious to find out more about her.
“All right,” she said, hoping she wouldn’t end up regretting it.
“We’re playing. But go easy on me, okay? ”
“I promise.” Scottie’s voice was gentle. “You start.”
While Willow thought of a harmless, not too personal first question, she opened the bag of trail mix. “What’s the most useless piece of knowledge rattling around in your head?”
A low chuckle echoed through the elevator. “Tough choice. I could write the Dictionary of Useless Knowledge.” Scottie rubbed her chin. “Let’s go with this one: Turtles can breathe through their butts.”
Willow paused in the middle of fishing a peanut from the bag. “You’re making that up!”
“No, it’s true! It’s called cloacal respiration.”
“Cloacal—?” Willow nearly choked on the peanut she’d just popped into her mouth. “Maybe you should write that dictionary. If that’s the kind of stuff you know, it could be really entertaining.”
“Yeah, I’m sure it would be a bestseller. My turn.” Scottie took a small handful of trail mix. “What would you be doing right now if you’d left work on time and weren’t trapped in this elevator?”
Willow never wore a wristwatch—they always started to lose time, then died within a week—but over the years, she had developed a good sense of time, so she knew it was about seven thirty.
“I’d probably be on the couch with my sister, reading, with Sugar, one of the cats, on my lap while Spice swats at the book every time I turn a page.
” She gave her a wry smile. “Exciting, I know.”
“Excitement is overrated,” Scottie replied. “Sounds like a perfect evening after a long workweek to me. So…Sugar and Spice? Let me guess: Sugar’s the friendly angel, while Spice is the one with an attitude?”
“Pretty much. Sugar is super affectionate and loves everyone, while Spice is the moody one who’ll hiss at you for breathing wrong.”
“Are they yours or your sister’s?”
Willow shrugged. “Depends on who you ask. Technically, they’re Fiona’s, while I’m just the cool aunt, but if one of them is misbehaving, my sister insists they’re mine.
And, of course, if cats could talk, they would say that we belong to them.
I mean, I haven’t lived there long, but Sugar and Spice quickly got used to having two servants instead of just one. ”
“Naturally,” Scottie said with a grin. “As your feline overlords who allow you to exist in their kingdom, they deserve to be spoiled.”
Willow returned her grin. “Ah, I see you understand the balance of power.”
Scottie nodded. “I grew up with cats.”
This wasn’t so bad, Willow decided. Scottie had a way of making her comfortable, watching her with an attentive gaze as she spoke, no matter how mundane her answer appeared to Willow. No hint of boredom or judgment showed on Scottie’s face, only genuine interest and acceptance.
Willow sorted a handful of trail mix into two mini piles of nuts and dried fruit on her palm while she took her time thinking of the next question to ask Scottie. “What’s the last movie that made you cry?”
“Movie? I honestly can’t remember.”
“Been too long?” Willow asked.
Scottie shook her head. “Been too many. Don’t laugh, but I’m the type who cries at commercials or Insta reels. If it involves people being happy, I’m a goner. Marriage proposals, surprise reunions, pets being adopted, babies taking their first steps… I’m done for.”
“I would never laugh at that.” Willow actually found it very sweet, and she marveled at how easily Scottie let her guard down. Clearly, she wasn’t afraid to reveal her soft marshmallow center, and Willow almost envied her.
“My turn,” Scottie said. “Why do you carry a second phone, especially such an old-school one?”
Willow couldn’t help tensing a little. She didn’t want to lie, but neither could she tell the full truth.
“Oh, you know…” She fluttered her hand in a vague gesture, scattering peanut crumbs over their tissue picnic blanket.
“I don’t have the best of luck with battery-operated devices.
” Then she realized how that sounded and blushed.
Dammit. She seemed to do that a lot whenever she talked to Scottie.
“Oh, really?” Scottie drawled with a grin.
Ignoring the comment and the warmth in her cheeks, Willow added, “What I meant is that the Nokia is my backup, in case my phone runs out of battery. It holds a charge forever.” At least it did for other people.
For her, it was just enough to get through the day, but she had to plug it in every night.
A curious expression darted across Scottie’s face, and Willow thought for sure she’d ask why she didn’t simply carry a power bank instead of a second phone, but Scottie just nodded. “Fair enough. Plus not being constantly online is probably a good thing.”
That approval from an IT person surprised Willow. She tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear and thought of the next question. “What would you do for a living if you weren’t a tech wizard?” She pointed at Scottie’s hoodie. “By the way, shouldn’t it be tech sorceress?”
“Hm, I don’t know. Doesn’t have the same punch.”
“Okay, tech witch, then.”
“Ooh, I like that!” Scottie tossed a raisin in the air and snatched it up with her mouth.
“Probably a job where I’d be working with my hands and could see the result of my labor at the end of the day.
Like a gardener or a landscaper. Something tangible, not just staring at a screen all day, you know? ”
Again, the answer surprised Willow. She hadn’t expected that from Scottie. “Yeah, I get that. Sometimes, I think the same. Not that I don’t love my job.”
“Oh yeah. I love mine too,” Scottie said. “I just love doing other, more hands-on stuff too. Things that let me create something real.”
“Like raising miniature fig trees,” Willow said.
“Exactly.” Scottie pulled one knee up and leaned her chin on top to gaze at Willow. “Your turn to answer a question. How did you end up here?”
Willow gestured at the metal walls surrounding them. “In the elevator?”
“Working at Kudos.”
That was more of a minefield than Scottie probably realized.
Willow eyed the bottle of water. Should she take a swig?
But she didn’t want to answer Scottie’s openness with such a cop-out.
Besides, if she took a drink, it would only let Scottie know her question wasn’t as harmless to Willow as she had assumed.
She lowered her gaze and brushed a few crumbs off her lap. “I got fired from my last job.”
Scottie reached over and gave Willow’s leg a quick, compassionate squeeze. “I’m sorry. Layoffs?”
Willow put her hand on the spot Scottie had just touched.
Her leg was tingling, even though this time she hadn’t been zapped since she was leaning against the metal wall.
“No.” She pressed her lips together and hesitated.
What if Scottie told one of her colleagues, and before you knew it, the entire company was gossiping about her?
But while she hadn’t known Scottie for long, she already sensed she wasn’t a person who would betray a confidence.
She could trust her—at least with part of it.
“They said it was because of bad performance. That I wasn’t meeting their expectations.
” That was true, even though Willow suspected it wasn’t the real reason.
She had simply been too expensive as an employee, needing a new device more often than any of her colleagues.
“Bullshit.” Scottie hurled the word through the elevator like a rotten piece of fruit into the trash bin. “That was probably just an excuse.”
While Scottie couldn’t know anything about her job performance, her trust in Willow’s skills felt like a soothing balm on an open wound. “Thanks for not assuming I must be shit at my job, especially after having to come to my rescue so often this month,” she said quietly.
Scottie looked away, then back into her eyes. “You’re clearly smart and hardworking, considering we seem to be the last ones in the building. I can’t imagine you being bad at your job. If your old employer couldn’t see that, it’s on them, not on you.”
Willow’s throat tightened. Her mouth felt as dry as a bucket of chalk. She swallowed hard, reached for the water bottle, and took a big gulp.
Scottie smiled softly. “Does that mean you want to pass on the next question?”
“No. I’m just thirsty. Besides, it’s your turn to answer a question. Or do you want to stop playing?”
“Nope. I’d love to keep going.” Scottie studied her. “Unless you want to stop.”
Did she?
“No,” Willow answered, surprised at how quickly the answer came to her.
Initially, she had agreed to the game mostly to provide a distraction for Scottie.
But now she found herself captivated too.
Something about the game—about Scottie—was too intriguing to stop. She wanted to find out more about her.
What stunned her even more was realizing she’d been okay revealing little bits about herself in return. She had assumed being asked questions would feel like a near stranger prying open doors she had kept locked forever.
But it hadn’t been like that at all, nor did Scottie still feel like a stranger.
That thought sent a ripple of alarm through her. Quickly, she pushed it back and squared her shoulders. “Let’s keep going.”