Chapter 6 #2
He strides ahead without another word. I peel off toward my workstation and drop my things onto my chair with a soft thud. I blow out a long breath and nudge my glasses up the bridge of my nose.
Theo may be heading home, but that doesn’t lighten my workload. If anything, it probably doubles it. Anya will absorb whatever projects he’s left unfinished, and in true trickle-down economics, she’ll redistribute her overflow to us underlings. Lucky me.
Which means it’s time for coffee. Not a sad, beige K-cup. A sugary, overpriced latte with some extra pumps of syrup and two shots of espresso.
I grab my phone and wristlet, call the elevator back up, and open Photogram to occupy my mind while waiting.
My sister has posted photos from her weekend trip to Iceland.
Derrick and Andy have uploaded laser-tag selfies with the Mamma Lina’s ladies.
All four of them stand in Charlie’s Angels poses, clearly having the time of their lives.
The elevator dings. But just before the doors slide open, the overhead lights sputter Once, Twice. Then cut out entirely. The room goes pitch-black. The hum of the AC dies. A stunned silence settles over the floor.
Someone down the hall groans, “Oh, come on.”
Another voice mutters something unprintable. Chair wheels squeak. A stapler clatters to the ground.
I blink into the sudden dim, my eyes slowly adjusting. Heat presses down without the AC. “Great. A power outage. I guess it means I’m taking the stairs.”
“The backup generators should kick in within thirty seconds,” Theo says as he strolls up beside me, holding a suitcase.
“That’s good to hear, but I’m still taking the stairs.
I’m not risking getting stuck in there.” I’m not claustrophobic, but the thought of being stuck in the dark in a tight five-by-seven space with Theo is one of my worst nightmares come true.
I don’t understand why the universe keeps throwing him at me like a cosmic joke.
I slip my phone into my pocket and scan the hallway for the nearest exit.
That’s when a far more practical problem dawns on me.
I have no idea where the stairs actually are.
It’s my third week here. I should know by now.
There has to be an illuminated sign, but with the power out, the whole corridor looks unfamiliar.
Theo stands a step behind me, a crease cutting sharply between his brows.
“I don’t understand,” he mutters. “The generators should’ve switched over by now.”
“Power is going to be out for a while. The tree trimmers dropped a branch on a powerline and it’s gone down. The whole block’s lost electricity while the line is being repaired,” somebody shouts.
More groans.
“That’s gonna take hours,” a woman says.
Even if the building has its own set of backup generators, I’m not waiting for it to reboot itself. This girl needs coffee.
While Theo puzzles through the electrical mystery, I spot a faint green-and-white “EXIT” sign near the bathrooms. “Found it,” I say, already moving.
I push the door open. A wave of hot, humid air rolls over me.
The stairwell feels ten degrees warmer than the office.
Bare concrete walls frame a narrow space lit only by dim emergency fixtures along the landings.
It’s not bright enough to be comforting, but enough that I can see where the steps begin and avoid tumbling down fifteen flights in my pumps.
A moment later, I hear Theo muttering under his breath as he steps in behind me. The heavy door swings shut and slams with a metallic clang that echoes up the stairwell. “I’m not following you. There’s only one way down.”
“Nope. I’m not doing this.” I spin around and shove the push bar.
Nothing happens. I shove again, harder. Still nothing. “Are these electronic or something?”
“It’s locked,” he says, as if announcing the weather.
“Locked?”
“Mm-hmm,” he hums noncommittally.
“And why would it be locked?” I fire back.
“Security reasons. You could use your badge to scan yourself back in if the power were on. Otherwise, you need keys.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” I rattle the handle again, giving it the kind of yank that should at least make it consider opening. It doesn’t budge. I turn to Theo. “You have your keys, right?”
He puts down the suitcase and pats his jacket pockets. Then his trousers. His face tightens ever so slightly. “On my desk.”
“You left them?” I ask, incredulous. A laugh bubbles up, but this isn’t funny enough to release it. “Of course you did.”
“Not by choice.” He pulls out his phone. “I’ll ring facilities.” His thumbs fly across the screen. A beat later, he mutters a curse. “We’re in a dead spot. There’s no service.”
I check my own phone and consider hitting the SOS symbol in the corner. But it’s not really that much of an emergency.
“I suppose”—Theo crosses his arms, voice clipped—“the only way out is down to the ground level.”
“Fifteen flights.” I swallow hard, thinking about having to spend it walking with him. “Maybe I should just wait until somebody comes to find me.”
“If you want to sit in the dark, be my guest.” He starts down the steps. “It’s too hot for this, and I’m running on two hours of sleep. Anya insisted I go home, so I’m going home.”
“Fantastic,” I mutter, tilting my head back and staring at the ceiling. The heat is already gathering at the back of my neck. “Trapped in a stairwell with Mr. Sunshine himself.”
Fifteen flights is going to be a very long way down.