Chapter 19
19
Cate
“How are you?” Shane asks from the far corner of the elevator. His eyes still stare at me like he always did, like we didn’t crash and burn last August but walked away best friends.
I should be bothered that he makes me feel like a girl with a crush because he shined his attention on me. However, there are more pressing issues, like the elevator stuck somewhere between the third and fourth floors.
“Never better,” I reply like my life isn’t flashing before my eyes as I cling to the railing behind me. “Who’d you piss off?”
He chuckles. “Who haven’t I pissed off might be easier to answer.”
“You’re not wrong.” I try to smile, but it’s too hard not to notice this metal box's lack of airflow. “You even managed to get on my bad side, and that’s not easy to do.”
Lowering his voice as if we’re besties sharing a secret, he says, “Between you and me, I don’t think this is a hit job to take me out despite your prayers for it to happen.”
“I didn’t pray for any harm to come to you. That’s not the karma I want to put into the universe. Though I might have wished for impotence on a few eleven-elevens over the past however months it’s been.”
“Ten.”
“Ten what?” I hold his stare, each second that passes making it easier to see him again.
“It’s been ten months since we lost each other.” His jaw ticks as he looks away for a moment. Annoyance seemingly steals his cooler composure. When his gaze treks across the elevator to me, clearer skies have returned to his blue eyes. “I meant last saw each other.”
“Lost each other works. Tomato, tomahto.”
“Yeah, I suppose,” he replies, not an ounce of him sounding convinced. Is the great rock star not on top of his game? He seems thrown. Of course, we are stuck in an elevator, so that might play a small part of it. I’m curious.
Forcing myself to stand straighter despite the fear I have of plummeting to my death in this elevator, I grip the railing and raise my chin as I right myself. “I didn’t know we were dressing for the occasion. I would have chosen all black as well.”
He can’t stop the lopsided grin that makes him even more charming as he tries to hide it from me. “You look lovely. As always.”
The sweetness of his words causes my chest to tighten. How can he say such things when he never saw me looking my best? He saw me after long days at work or in comfy couch-rotting clothes. He saw me fully naked the last night we had together. I glance down at the silky skirt that blows like Marilyn Monroe’s in the wind if I’m not careful—colorful stripes against a white background—the yellow Mary Janes remind me of sunshine, and the fitted white top I was dumb enough to wear when ordering a hot dog for lunch. However, most of the mustard stain came out when I scrubbed it with the hospital-grade soap. I felt good in this outfit and might have even worn it on purpose to appear more carefree than he remembers me. “Thank you,” I say even though I’m a little choked up.
“Did you change your hair?”
I reach for a section and slide my hand down self-consciously. “It’s a little shorter. Not much.”
“The color.” His eyes are set, reminding me how good it feels to be the center of his attention. “It’s darker.”
I glance into the shiny steel wall across from me to spot the difference from last August. “Oh, I’ve not been in the sun as much. It will lighten by the end of summer.”
“The end of summer. That’s what we were. Almost sounds like a song.”
“Maybe you should write it.”
“I already have. I just didn’t have the words until now.”
An alarm sounds, and the elevator lurches again, scaring me into holding the railing even tighter. “I think I need to sit down. My stomach doesn’t react well to sudden movements. Or dying in elevators.”
The alarm quietens, causing us both to look up. He says, “I didn’t know that about you.”
“Most people don’t want to die in elevators.”
A roguish grin slides onto his face, and it’s so obvious why he made the sexiest man edition again this year. “I’ve forgotten how funny you are.”
“A riot a minute. Anywho, I hate those rides that take you high in the air and then drop you. You bounce and go back up and then down and then up. It’s torture.” I slide down the wall, but he crosses the invisible barrier we had between us, dividing our safe spaces, rehearsing for when we’re in the office divorcing.
“You’ll get dirty on the floor. Would you like to sit on my lap?”
I’m both taken by his thoughtfulness and questioning his motive. Can they both exist equally? Or are they mutually exclusive? “You’ll get dirty as well.”
“I don’t mind. It’s for a good cause.”
I shouldn’t even be toying with this idea. Yet I can’t seem to stop myself when it comes to Shane. “My skirt?”
“And what’s in it.”
“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were flirting.” Just because you think it, Cate, doesn’t mean you need to say it. My goal was not to embarrass myself, yet I’m failing.
He doesn’t let more than two heartbeats go by before he says, “Sometimes we struggle to see what’s right in front of us.”
I hadn’t noticed how close he’d gotten or how our hands touched on the railing. I didn’t notice that his pupils had dilated or his breathing deepened. But now I do. I see it all right in front of me. I just don’t know what to think of it. Or him.
“Are you going to sit, or are we standing here all day?”
Shane chuckles, maneuvering to the floor and settling against the wall. He pats his lap, and says, “Bring ’er in.”
I start to bend, wondering if I should flop onto his legs or get to my knees and crawl on top of him. “Bring what in?”
“Your ass. Park it right here, babe.”
Babe. It came so naturally that I swear the air got sucked right out of the elevator when we stopped breathing. As I fell onto his lap, we pretended it was never said. My ears heard it. My heart felt it. My soul clung to it, though it’s always favored romance over rationale, so I no longer trust it.
The elevator jumps, the lights flash above our heads, and the alarm starts again. I bury my head against his, closing my eyes and holding his neck. I don’t know what’s worse—an elevator on the fritz threatening our lives or being held by Shane like he still loves me when I reasonably know that’s not the case.
The elevator shifts, the lights now steady, and the alarm goes quiet as it starts moving again. There’s no time to pull apart before we reach the fourth floor, though there is a delay in the doors sliding open for us.
He asks, “Is this part of that karma you mentioned putting out into the universe?”
“I have no doubt.” He makes it hard to hate him when he has me smiling like we’re still friends. “I didn’t plan on being a part of the vengeance.”
Chuckling, he tips his head against the wall of the elevator. “I think you’re safe. And there’s still time for it to take me down.”
“I’m counting on it,” I reply with a gentle roll of laughter. “Preferably when I’m not in the vicinity.”
With a grin seated squarely on his face, Shane anchors his hand on the railing, pulling us both to our feet in one swift action. His other hand lingers on my hip. I look up, not sure what to say. I don’t care about his hand. I like his touch and his warmth. I remember it all so vividly, which makes me hate myself for being so easily manipulated.
He’s so tall in front of me. So tempting to cling to. . . I don’t because what’s the point? And because I got distracted enough to forget he has someone special in his life. This divorce isn’t coming out of nowhere.
I had fun . . . I’m still having fun.
Damn him.
Why did he go and ruin a good thing?
Feeling sick to my stomach from the thought of Shane with another woman, I move away from him, pressing a palm to the wall to steady myself. “Why can’t these stupid doors just open?”
“How are you, Cat?” Cate . . . We’ve come full circle as if everything between the question he asked earlier and then again just now has been erased. “Are you okay?”
“I’m . . . good.” I’m not at all, but we’re here for one thing, and that’s to get a divorce. My feelings don’t matter anymore and shouldn’t to him. This is just a formality before we return to our own lives again. “You?” No need to be rude when he so chivalrously let me sit on him.
“We’re about to find out.”
I stare at him, wondering what the hell that means. “Don’t worry, your bank account is safe from me.” I don’t bother to laugh. It wasn’t a joke anyway.
Willing the doors to open for us, I’m so close to banging and yelling, but I’m positive that won’t help in this situation. So I chant it inwardly instead of out loud.
“Money is the least of my concerns.” His voice is so smooth, so confident that I’m trying to read between the lines as if I’m missing something.
Why am I suddenly feeling paranoid? I’m sure he wants to get this over with and back to his fantastical life as much as I want to get to drinking margaritas with Luna. “ Okaaay .” I glance up at the floor indicator, noting that we are forever stuck on the fourth floor. “That feels showy, but you are an entertainer.”
Offense narrows his eyes as he stares at me. “I’m a musician.”
“You’re an entertainer, though.” I shrug, missing his point. “Comme ci comme ca.”
“What?”
“It’s French.”
“Oui, parlez-vous francais?”
“Non.” I waggle my finger. “I took Spanish in high school.”
Running his hand over his head, he looks up at the stalled number like he’s ready to escape as well. “I don’t even know how this conversation started.”
“I was basically saying it must be nice to never want for anything.” I dare to look his way again, catching him studying me like prey.
Should I be worried or —I pluck at my shirt again, hoping to cool off in the hot elevator. Damn. Why do I react so easily to him? He knows I do, too. I can just tell by the wry grin resting on his face.
He says, “I want?—”
The doors open. I throw myself into the lobby of the law offices just in case it decides to trap us inside for another round of battering my heart.
Shane’s exit is much cooler. He swaggers off like he owns the place. According to him, money flows like water right into his bank account, so I guess he could buy the place. I can’t get caught up in his chaos again. We didn’t have a great ending the last time. This meeting will make it final.
No use in delaying our destiny.