Chapter 10
PIPER
"But how would Babushka even lock this?" Piper strode to the door and tried it again. Nope. Nada. It wasn't moving.
"Trust me, never underestimate Babushka's abilities," Zach sighed, running a hand through his hair. "If she wants something to happen, she'll find a way."
"Why would your grandmother want to lock us in a closet?" Piper demanded, the absurdity of the situation finally hitting her. "What could she possibly gain from that?"
Zach hesitated, looking suddenly uncomfortable. "She's an enigma, that one."
"This is what she did to Drake and Anna," Piper said. Not a question, a statement.
Zach confirmed, his pulse visible along the line of his neck.
"So, your grandmother thinks that trapping two adults in small spaces is the path to true love?" Piper's voice rose incrementally with each syllable. "That's—that's—"
"Effective, apparently," Zach admitted with a sheepish smile. "I mean, it worked for Anna and Drake."
Piper sat in one of the folding chairs she found against the back wall, her palms pressed to her cheeks. Her throat tightened with the familiar feeling of dread. "How bad was it? Between Drake and Anna before the big lock-in?"
"What do you mean?"
"Couples that have serious problems before marriage? Those problems don't magically disappear after the wedding." Piper's voice sounded tight even to her. "If anything, they get worse."
Maybe the point of this whole thing wasn't to push her and Zach closer together. No, maybe it was to remind her that they were a bad idea in the first place.
Zach straightened, his expression growing serious. "Anna and Drake are solid. Like, really solid. They just had a communication hiccup during a stressful time. Every couple has rough patches."
"That's what they all say," Piper muttered, shaking her head. "Until it all falls apart."
"Nah." His voice wrapped gently around the last word as he crouched in front of where she sat. "Not every relationship is doomed because it hits a bump. Not Anna's, not…"
Ours.
He let that unspoken word hang there in the air between them. And all she could focus on were the flecks of green in his eyes she'd never noticed before.
The intensity between them had her squirming in the seat. And the knowingly perceptive way he acted like he could see right through to the raw hurt underneath did not help the situation.
Piper stood abruptly, forcing him to step back.
"This isn't about philosophy. This is about getting out of here before I miss my movie marathon.
" A tangle of wires blurred in her vision as she blinked, trying to focus on something—anything—other than what had just happened.
"Maybe we can patch into one of the event rooms and call for help? "
Silence stretched as he studied her before finally replying, "Good thinking. Let me see what we've got."
They worked side by side in tense silence, Piper focusing all her attention on the control panel while trying to ignore both Zach's proximity and the unsettling revelations she needed to totally pretend had not happened.
She stared at the mess of wires and switches. Was the electrical system they were trying to hack into as hopelessly crossed as her own professional boundaries? Because each connection she traced seemed to lead somewhere unexpected, just like her feelings for Zach.
The small space made it impossible not to be aware of him—the faint smell of his cologne, the warmth radiating from his body, the brush of his arm against hers as they hunched over the equipment.
She looked up to find his face much closer than she'd anticipated, his eyes darkened with an emotion she wasn't ready to name. Dim overhead lights cast long shadows over stacked equipment. The air, warm and dry, crackled with unspoken things.
"Piper," he breathed, her name almost a question.
She couldn't look away. Couldn't step back. Couldn't remember why she should want to.
His attention lingered on her mouth, and she gravitated toward him, drawn by some invisible force she couldn't, and seriously didn't want to, resist.
"Zach."
Their breaths mingled, ragged and uneven, as the distance between them narrowed to almost nothing.
He waited, leaving that slip of a space there. He didn't move. Didn't take his eyes off hers.
No, that was her. She closed that space and pressed her lips to his, testing the feel as her whole body seemed to melt against him.
He let her take control of the kiss, until he didn't. He opened for her when she moaned a quiet sound and that was the end of that.
His hands were in her hair, and he devoured any protests she couldn't think of anymore. Heat pooled low in her belly, and it didn't matter that they were locked in a closet. It didn't matter that she didn't believe in love.
No, all that mattered was the spark deep inside he was fanning with whatever the hell that was he could do with his tongue.
She gripped his shoulders and let him do what he wanted to because he definitely knew his way around a kiss. That was for damn sure.
Her heart hammered against her ribs as panic and desire fought it out inside. This wasn't supposed to happen. She didn't blur the lines. Didn't risk her reputation with personal entanglements.
Her brain was a fogged-over windshield, logic smeared useless beneath all that heat, by the time he pulled away a fraction of an inch. She was out of breath and a solid four miles past sanity.
Carefully, he moved her to the chair where she'd been before. This time he pressed the pad of his thumb against her lips, soothing the fire that still made her want to jump him right there, professionalism be damned.
"We're gonna come back to this, yeah?" he asked.
She nodded since she couldn't form a syllable at that moment.
He seemed to understand that he'd totally wrecked her ability to communicate because he grinned like he walked straight out of a Warner Brothers’ cartoon. Which was apt, given she probably had red hearts dancing around her head.
All she could do was watch him as he cataloged the wires and followed them to the black box on the wall.
"Here." He pointed to a series of labeled buttons at the back of the panel. "These control the microphone system for each event space. If we can patch through to the main ballroom then—"
"They'll hear us," Piper finished, already standing to reach for the controls.
Their fingertips bumped over the panel, and for a moment, neither moved away. His warm fingers gripped hers, his skin slightly rough as he squeezed her palm.
"This one connects us," he said, his voice rough as he reached past her to press a button. "Should connect us."
The spell broken, Piper blinked rapidly, trying to regain her composure as he gestured toward the microphone.
"Press this when you're ready to speak," he instructed, not quite meeting her eyes.
She steadied herself before pressing the button.
"Hello? This is Piper Daws. I'm trapped in the audiovisual room on the rooftop terrace. If anyone can hear this, please come help. The door is locked from the outside."
They waited in tense silence for several seconds before a subtle electronic whine filled the room.
Suddenly, Piper's message boomed back at them, echoing through the small space at deafening volume.
Her amplified voice declared to no one in particular, "…
PLEASE COME HELP. THE DOOR IS LOCKED FROM THE OUTSIDE. "
Piper winced, covering her ears as her distress call reverberated.
Two seconds later, the same message echoed from outside the door.
"Did that go through the entire hotel?" Piper asked, moving her gaze from the door to Zach then back to the door.
"I think," Zach said carefully as the announcement finally, thank God finally, ended, "I maybe might have patched into the wrong system."
"You think?" Piper stared at him in horror. "What exactly did you connect us to?"
"If I had to guess..." He rubbed the back of his neck.
"Guess away."
"The emergency broadcast system."
Piper groaned, dropping her head into her palms. "So now everyone in the entire building knows we're stuck in a closet together."
"You didn't mention me, so they only know about you." Zach shrugged. "Look at the bright side. Someone's bound to come get us now."
As if on cue, rapid footsteps approached, followed by the sound of rustling from the outside and the door opening.
The hotel manager stood there, his expression a mixture of concern and irritation as he took in the sight of them. His name tag read "Marcus," and his perfectly pressed suit somehow managed to look even more formal than Piper's. She could appreciate that in a fellow professional.
"Ms. Daws," he said stiffly, apparently recognizing her from the D.I.C.K. meeting. "Would you care to explain why you've activated our emergency announcement system to broadcast your predicament to our guests? All of our guests."
Before she could form a response, Zach spoke first, "Actually, that would be my fault. However, you might want to be more concerned about why your audiovisual room locks from the outside with no internal release. Had there been a fire, we would have been trapped with no way out."
"Yes," Piper said. "That's a serious safety violation."
"I'm sure the fire marshal would be very interested to hear about a hotel trapping guests in rooms they can't escape from." Zach's tone sharpened from casual to authoritative in an instant.
Marcus visibly paled. "I assure you; these doors do not lock this way."
"But they did," Zach said.
"Something must have been tampered with." Marcus toyed with the doorknob, pressing the lock and turning the lever to release it.
At Marcus's mention of tampering, a flicker of suspicion passed instantly between her and Zach.
"Tampered with?" she asked. Also, go her, because it sounded like the thought hadn't occurred to her until Marcus mentioned it right then.
"All the more concerning." Zach kept his stare on Marcus. His easygoing charm transformed into commanding and confident. A glimpse, perhaps, of the businessman beneath the casual exterior? "But, for now, I'm simply relieved that someone heard Piper's call for help," he finished.
"Of course, of course," Marcus stammered.
"Piper?" Tess called, hurrying behind Marcus. "Are you okay? I was on the phone with legal when the whole thing came over the intercom."
"That's basically what happened," Piper said. "Marcus came to let us out."
"Legal?" Marcus blanched. "Please accept our most sincere apologies. I'll have maintenance check every door immediately. And perhaps we could offer you both a complimentary dinner at our restaurant this evening? To make amends?"
Piper crossed her arms, glancing at the now-unlocked door, not entirely trusting it. "That won't be necessary."
"Thank goodness you're both okay," Tess said, side-eyeing Marcus. "Loop me in on the report and facilities audit. I'll walk with you now while you start the paperwork."
Piper felt a little bad for Marcus as Tess steered him toward the elevators.
They made their way back across the now-empty terrace. How she could be embarrassed and relieved and a little turned on? Well, that was anyone's guess.
"Oh, wait," Zach said, turning back toward the audiovisual room. He ducked inside and emerged with the small wicker basket of bread.
Piper raised an eyebrow.
"It's really good bread," he said with a grin as they reached the exit.
A laugh escaped her lips before she could stop it.
The sun had begun its descent toward the mountains, bathing everything in a muted golden light that made the city skyline shimmer.
Piper caught herself studying Zach's profile and the strong line of his jaw, the way his eyes crinkled slightly at the corners even when he wasn't smiling. Like he laughed so often the lines were already permanent.
"Thank you," she said suddenly. "For handling that with the manager. You were impressive."
With a smile that tugged a little too knowingly, he said, "High praise from someone who intimidates funeral directors for fun."
"I do not intimidate them," she protested. "I organize them. There's a difference."
"If you say so."
They reached the parking garage level in comfortable silence. As they stepped out, Zach hesitated.
"Speaking of organizing," he said, falling into step beside her. "What would you say to celebrating our daring escape from audiovisual imprisonment? I've got an in with Brek at Brek's Bar. He always has good bands."
"That's Aspen's brother's bar." Piper paused by her car. "I've never been."
It never felt like a place she'd fit in, honestly.
"Come with me, then," Zach said.
Key fob in hand, every instinct crafted from years navigating delicate client relationships and steering clear of drama warned her to shut it down. To maintain the separation between work and pleasure. To keep the damn walls firmly in place.
But Zach had already started to pull those walls down and something—an openness, a genuine interest that went beyond mere flirtation? Whatever it was, she was reconsidering.
"Just to celebrate our escape?" she asked cautiously.
"Absolutely," he assured her, though the slight twinkle in his eyes suggested more. "Plus, I owe you because that had Babushka written all over it in giant red Sharpie with exclamation points."
"The thing is, I've been running the whole thing in my brain and Babushka left long before she could've done anything to the lock."
"If there's one thing I've learned," Zach said. "It's that you should never underestimate what that woman can do."
Piper smirked. "Noted."
"A drink?" Zach said, his eyes sparkling.
Piper bit her lip, mentally running through her evening schedule. No urgent deadlines. No early meetings tomorrow. Only a movie marathon that could wait for another night.
There really was no valid excuse, even if she'd wanted one.
"Okay," she said. "But absolutely no talk about weddings."
The smile that spread across Zach's face was like watching the sun. She could almost convince herself this was simply a friendly, professional outing. A simple celebration of surviving a bizarre situation.
But the flutter in her stomach said it was so much more.