Chapter 4
MATTEO
The elevator empties, and she’s still here.
When we get past the fortieth floor, my curiosity bubbles up even more, though I’m certain that she’ll get off on the seventy-third floor. All the marketing people work there and I’m sure she’s headed there.
My eyes take her in slowly, moving from her shoes, up along her pencil skirt and jacket, to her face.
Nice lips, mouth, cute nose and those goddamn gorgeous eyes.
Fuck.
She just caught me checking her out. ‘Cause I caught her checking me out, too. I don't flinch, but she tilts her head. Gives me a “what the hell” glare.
I want to smile. But she's not smiling.
One eyebrow rises, just so slightly. She's pissed.
So I smile.
This day is turning out to be not so bad after all.
I look away, now feeling the sting of her glare on me.
The elevator suddenly lurches and the lights flicker.
What the fuck?
The woman gasps, losing her balance, and I instinctively reach out to steady her, but she flattens herself against the wall. Eyes closed. Face tense.
I look around, wondering what the hell happened, but she rushes to the control panel, frantically pressing the buttons. “Hello? Is anybody there?”
She’s panicked. I get it. This isn’t supposed to happen, but I’m sure it’ll be fine soon enough.
“Hello? Hello?” Her voice is shaky, so not how I thought it would be.
“Great. Top-of-the-line system, billions in tech, and we still can’t keep an elevator moving,” I say, loud enough for her to hear.
She turns around. “Do you work here?” She looks petrified, but I sense this runs deeper. She’s too anxious for what I’m sure is just a glitch.
“Uh …” I struggle for what to say. “Don’t be scared. I’m sure they’re looking into it. This company has great tech. They’ll fix it fast.”
There’s a crackle from the control panel, then silence. She gapes at me wide-eyed and nervous. “Are we—stuck?”
I move towards her, because she looks like she needs comforting, but I’m not quite sure how to do that without coming across as a creep. I try to offer reassurance. “It looks like it, but hopefully not for too long.”
She lets out a long, hard breath, like she doesn’t like this. Like this is torture. Why some people panic so fast is beyond me, but I take a step back, giving her the space I feel she needs.
“Elevators don’t get stuck. They shouldn’t,” she insists. “Not in this day and age.”
“They shouldn’t.” I fist my hands at my sides because her ashen white face tells me that she’s really panicked. I hate to see her like this, and I’ll end up hugging her if I’m not careful. Seeing Mama fall apart has imprinted that memory on me and I can’t see a woman in distress.
“Hey, don’t be scared,” I tell her. “I promise you we’ll be out of here in no time.” But now that I think about it, she’s been on edge since the moment I saw her. Like she’s trying too hard. Like she’s off kilter. Like she’s stressed.
“I don’t like confined spaces.”
“Yeah? Why’s that?” I tilt my head, genuinely interested.
She doesn’t answer. To ease the tension I try humor. “It depends on who you’re stuck with, I guess. At least we’re not enemies.”
“Not enemies? I barely know you.”
I grin. “You could get to know me better. We have some time.”
She rolls her eyes. “Are you flirting with me?”
She was checking me out. I should call her out on it but I won’t. Not yet. “Just trying to be friendly, that’s all. It could be worse. You could be stuck in here with someone you hate.” I grin.
“I wouldn’t want to be stuck in here with my friends, let alone someone I hate.”
She didn’t say boyfriend.
I really shouldn’t do that, but my mind just went there. Trying to read between the lines to figure out whether she’s single or not.
“It’s probably just a safety pause,” I offer, half to calm her, half to convince myself. “System resets happen when the power switches. They’ll reboot in a minute.”
She peers up at me. “I expected more from a Knight Enterprises building. It’s meant to be a shrine to modern engineering.”
That’s not the kind of comment I expect from someone like her. Hell, from anyone. None of the tech guys have ever said anything remotely like that. I find myself more intrigued than ever. “It can still glitch. The Knights aren’t invincible.”
“You work here?”
This is the second time she’s asked me and I can’t dodge it any longer. “You could say that.” I wonder if she’s curious about me, or whether her question is limited to my prowess on the job.
“Then why don’t you call building maintenance?” She steps away from the control panel.
I lift a brow. “I’d be lucky to get one bar this deep in the shaft.”
Just then a voice comes through the intercom.
“This is the control room. Sorry for the inconvenience. We’re working on it and we urge you to please stay calm.”
I recognize the voice. It’s Eddie, from Facilities Management. I lean toward the speaker grill. “How long is this outage going to last?”
“We estimate no more than thirty minutes, sir. We’re working quickly. How many of you are in there?”
“Just the two of us.”
“Apologies once again. Please remain calm. We’ll get this fixed as quickly as we can.”
I move back, shoving my hands into my back pockets. “See. The guy said to stay calm. Excellent advice. I suggest you take it.”
The woman stares back at me speechless.
“We’ll be out of here before you know it. Might as well get acquainted.”
She groans. “I’m going to be so late.”
“You have an interview?”
She nods.
She’s an intern. Knew it. It explains some of her nerves. The rest? That’s something else entirely. She doesn’t answer but sinks back against the wall, looking even more uneasy.
“You were checking me out,” I say, trying to move her attention elsewhere. It’s starting to get stifling in here. The air suddenly feels thick and heavy.
“Oh, please. I was just making sure your tattoos weren’t gang-related.”
I can’t help but chortle at that. “You’re funny.” I swipe a hand through my hair and note the way her gaze fixes on my arms. “What would you know about gang-related tattoos? And these are not, by the way.”
She quickly looks away, down at the floor and shifts her body, fidgeting like she’s restless.
She likes me. Knew it.
“Twenty to thirty minutes,” she echoes, pointedly ignoring my question. “I can’t believe this is happening.”
I try for humor again. “Relax. The elevator’s taking a coffee break.”
“Very funny. Don’t change to being a comedian any time soon.”
I find myself chortling again. She really is funny. I’m intrigued. “Excellent advice. I’ll take it.”
She’s trying to act brave, but I can tell that it’s quietly freaking her out when she lets out another shaky breath.
The floor indicator is stuck on seventy-two.
I peer through the narrow slit between the doors and see the concrete lip of the next floor above.
We’re stuck between floors, and so high up. I can’t blame her for being on edge.
“It happens sometimes when the system switches power grids. Tech upgrades, software resets … that kinda thing.” Like most modern buildings, this one runs on a backup power grid and I know we’ll be up and running in no time.
She presses her palm to the wall, like she’s trying to steady herself. “Great, but also not great, especially when I’m supposed to be someplace else right now.”
I can’t help but move closer to her. Anxiety flickers in her eyes, the pupils large, swallowing up the hazel color. “Isn’t everyone meant to be somewhere at any time?”
She seems to consider this. “I need to be on time, and I’m not going to make it.”
“I’m sure they’ll be understanding, whoever you’re meeting with.” I want to know who she’s going to meet. Where she’s going and which department she’ll soon be working for.
“Do you think they’re doing some sort of tech upgrade?” she asks, her eyes lingering on mine a little longer. Something inside me stirs. The look is brief, but it’s enough.
“Could be. This place runs on smart tech, but sometimes it just gets too smart for its own good.” I offer another smile.
This isn’t me. I don’t smile, often. I’m not patient, and when it comes to strangers, I’m not nice.
Nor do I give a fuck, especially about someone I barely know, but there’s a stiffness in her posture and her jaw is clenched and fear swims in her eyes.
It brings out the protector in me. It’s not usually there, but a woman in distress will do it.
Always.
Growing up and seeing Mama sad always made me want to wipe away her sadness and do whatever it took to make her happy.
“You kinda look uncomfortable. It’s not so bad and like I said, you could be stuck in here with someone you really dislike.”
This makes her laugh.
“You’re trying to make me laugh,” she says, her face softening, like she appreciates the effort.
“What is it? Agoraphobia, claustrophobia, acrophobia or basophobia?” I ask, curious to find out more.
“Interesting. You know your phobias. Which one do you have?” she shoots back.
“You didn’t answer my question.”
She lets out a sigh. “Being trapped isn't really my thing.”
Her reply should be enough for me, but it isn't because I can sense something deeper there. It's in her expression, more than her words.
“I just don't like being cornered.”
I observe her carefully, noting the way she's standing, her shoulders drawn in, and her fingers, which keep fluttering along the strap of her bag. It's almost as if she's trying to anchor herself, trying to look fearless, when I see the truth of her panic.
“Who cornered you?” I ask, the words tumbling out before I can stop them.
Her brow creases, and she shifts uneasily, her nervous gaze settling over me. Whoa. I think I’ve hit a tripwire of truth. “Who?”
The word grates out of me. My gut hardens as I brace myself, but she doesn’t answer. Instead, she blinks a few times, shutting the door in my face, and in that moment I know I’ve hit a nerve. She doesn’t want to go there. She angles away from me like she doesn't want the confrontation.
I crossed a line.
Jesus.