Elevator Ride (The Valkyrie Brothers #1)

1

Rowan

The Elevator

Rowan Valkyrie adjusted the gun on his hip, flapped his suit jacket over it, and then walked straight through the lobby of the Hoskins Building.

Ignoring the glares from the variety of suits, ties, and dresses that made up the assorted business persons who occupied the majority of the building, Rowan led his team toward the elevators.

Valkyrie Security, the premier security firm on the West Coast, rented one floor and a large chunk of the parking garage and basement, but the rest of the tenants were an elite roster of Seattle’s high-end lawyers, accountants, and financial planners.

Rowan had hoped that their shared clientele list might make them better neighbors, but after six months, it was clear that most of the Hoskins Building hated him and his team.

Rowan had to admit that he hadn’t exactly fostered a neighborly vibe.

But he put most of their dislike down to the fact that while neat and tidy professionals liked feeling secure, they didn’t want to be reminded that security frequently came with guns.

There had already been a slew of angry emails when they’d first moved in about letting his stormtroopers traipse across the lobby with their weapons out.

The guns hadn’t been out. They just hadn’t been concealed.

Moving in all their equipment without flashing something around wasn’t easy.

Ultimately, Rowan had gone back and rented the basement so they could load in and out from the parking garage.

That seemed to tamp things down for a bit.

There had been more emails recently, but he had ignored them.

He didn’t have time for whatever bullshit complaints the business casual set had come up with.

Meanwhile, the renovation on the warehouse complex he’d purchased had run into one snag after another. What had promised to be a short six-month stay in the Hoskins Building now seemed like it would be a year.

Rowan headed for elevator three, followed by his second-in-command, Mark Goldman, as well as Teddy and José, but car three was crowded with giggling, over-caffeinated baby executives.

So he switched to car one. He never took the same elevator from day to day.

If he asked his clients to be careful, he should do the same.

A woman was in the back corner of one, but she didn’t look up as they entered.

Curvy, late twenties, reddish-tinted brunette—too young for him, but that didn’t stop him from admiring her like the damn work of art she was.

Oversized glasses and a messy bun combined to give her a sexy nerd look.

She carried a folder, and, like everyone under thirty-five, had her eyes fixed on her phone.

Rowan gave her plenty of space and made the other three crowd into the opposite side of the car as he tapped the button for twenty-six.

She had already pushed twenty-three. That was the law firm Hoskins, Branch, and Kato.

One of the partners, Howard Hoskins, owned the building but found renting out the top floor more profitable.

Rowan appreciated the practicality of that, and he also liked the tactical advantage of being at the top.

Another suit approached the elevator, took a look inside, and then backed away.

Rowan glanced back at his team. They all wore well-tailored black suits, but to his eye, only Teddy had any weaponry showing.

The idiot had attempted to tote the Mossberg in from the car by discreetly covering the shotgun with his overcoat.

Teddy aside, Rowan didn’t think they looked scary.

Teddy shrugged apologetically, and Rowan shrugged back as the doors slid closed. Some people were just chicken shit.

The doors shut, and the elevator lurched into motion.

“Mr. Valkyrie,” said the girl, her voice smooth and pleasant. It was a tone that set off alarm bells for him. “Good morning.”

Rowan turned to look at her more fully as she straightened up and slipped her phone into the pocket of her dress.

“Good morning,” he said cautiously. The girl looked up at him, considering him very coolly, while he lost himself in her storm-gray eyes.

“This would seem like an excellent opportunity to discuss building protocol,” she said.

Building protocol had been the subject line on the most recent email.

“I’m busy,” he said automatically. It was usually true.

“We have exactly one hundred and nine seconds until we reach my floor. But don’t worry, it will only take sixty.”

“Were you waiting for me?” he demanded.

“Considering that you’ve been avoiding all attempts from my firm to talk to you otherwise, it seemed like a good idea.”

“How did you know which elevator I would take?”

“It’s Tuesday,” she said as if that explained everything. “You tend to take one or three on Tuesdays, and I stacked car three with interns.”

Rowan wasn’t sure whether to be impressed or furious that he’d just been ambushed by a lawyer. He was both, he decided. Furious with himself and impressed by her. He checked his watch.

“You promised it would only take a minute. You’ve used thirty seconds.”

She opened her folder, withdrew a piece of paper with a crisp snap and held it out to him.

Rowan refused to take it, and she shoved it at him again with an angry glare.

He mutely shook his head, reveling in her fury.

Her eyes narrowed and she ruthlessly folded the paper in half.

He leaned in, silently daring her to make a move.

Grabbing him by the lapel, she tucked the sheet aggressively into the front of his suit jacket and he stared down at her in disbelief, shocked by her audacity.

“You will cease-and-desist with open carry in the lobby and all public spaces. You are a tenant, and you will follow the tenant code of conduct.”

“Are the sheeple scared?” he asked sarcastically, confident that there hadn’t been any open carry recently.

Her eyes flared with anger. “You do not own this building. It is the Hoskins Building, and it is my firm’s job to ensure all tenants feel comfortable and safe within their workplace.”

“So the flock sent you, by yourself, to talk to four armed men in an elevator? If you’re not worried about our guns, then why would they be?”

“As a woman, every time I enter an elevator alone with men, I am at risk. The fact that you have guns only brings the risk factor up a tiny notch.”

Rowan felt Teddy shift uncomfortably and move further away from the girl.

Teddy was young enough that it probably had never occurred to him that virtually all women thought he could be a threat.

Having it pointed out probably made him feel like a bad person and his discomfort came out in his body language.

“But let’s get a few things straight,” the girl continued. “My flock, as you describe them, are not scared of the substitute dicks your pack of assholes insist on flashing around.”

“Really? That doesn’t have them quaking in their loafers?”

“You want to know what keeps us up at night? What everyone around here prays for?”

She advanced an extra step, and Rowan leaned in, refusing to give ground. She smelled like something sweet. A fruit he couldn’t quite name.

“It is our very fervent hope that you pay your junior twat monkeys enough to afford that escort on Saturday night because the last thing we need is for one of your inbred incels to start shooting up the place due to a misplaced sense of entitlement, access to weapons, and the fact that Becky in accounting turned him down. You don’t get to mock people for feeling threatened when you know damn well you’re a threat.

Now stop treating the lobby and plaza like you own them because you don’t. ”

The elevator dinged as it arrived at floor twenty-three.

“Thank you for your time, Mr. Valkyrie. Have a nice day.”

She turned on her heel and exited the elevator with a determined stride.

Rowan waited until the doors closed again. He took the paper out of his jacket and opened it. The letter demanded—in flagrant lawyer-ese—that they cease-and-desist using the front entrance when armed.

“I thought we gave everyone strict instructions to use the basement entrance. Where the hell is she getting this shit about treating the lobby like we own it?”

Teddy cleared his throat, and Rowan raised an eyebrow at him.

“Actually, I’ve been meaning to bring it up.

With the road construction on Fifth and all the one-way streets…

everyone has to do the detour to get to the garage entrance.

That’s four extra blocks, and at peak traffic times, that can add like fifteen extra minutes.

So I think some of the guys have been pulling onto the plaza to unload and then sending the car around. ”

“What do you mean onto the plaza?” demanded Rowan icily. It could not mean what he thought it meant. “You mean the loading zone.”

“No,” said Teddy. “They use the emergency services access ramp and pull up to the front door.”

“Onto the plaza, with all the pedestrians, during peak times, when literally everyone can see them,” clarified Rowan.

“Yeah,” muttered Teddy.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” said Mark, taking off his glasses and pinching the bridge of his nose.

Rowan looked in disbelief at his team. “Gentleman, do you know what is worse than being called an asshole and a dick by a beautiful woman?” They all shook their heads. “It’s when she’s right.”