Chapter 6
MATTEO
“You said this has never happened before.”
“Not to my knowledge it hasn’t.” We’re still holding hands. Her skin feels so warm and soft against mine.
“What?” she asks.
“I don’t even know your name, and here I am stroking your wrists.”
“Elizabeth. Most people call me Liz or Lizzie.”
“I’m not most people.”
“I can see that,” she says.
“Does that feel good, Elizabeth?”
She nods.
“Want me to stop?” It’s a loaded question, and in this moment where time seems to stop, I feel something stirring deep inside me. This was supposed to be a routine workday morning. A meeting with the old man, then drinks and dinner in the evening.
From what I’ve observed, this woman—Liz, Lizzie, Elizabeth—whose wrists feel like they were made for me to stroke, doesn’t seem to conform easily, and though she tries to hide it, I sense she’s a bit of a rebel, like me.
For the briefest of seconds I wonder what she’d make of the puzzle that is my family. What she’d make of my brothers and the old man.
She clears her throat and I lean forward, eager to catch her words, but before she can say anything, a sharp click breaks the silence. A low mechanical hum follows. The lights flicker again. Our hands spring apart. The air changes. Becomes colder. I look up to see the floor indicator flashing.
I look at Elizabeth, and our gazes lock in an indecisive moment.
Who are we?
Do we walk away as strangers or try to exchange numbers?
My heart thuds in a way that is alien to me.
A voice comes through the intercom. “You’re good to go, folks. Sorry for any inconvenience.”
Everything snaps back to normal. Elizabeth lets out a breath, and a little laugh that sounds so false. Slowly, we both rise to standing.
“I guess it’s all back to normal now.” Her voice is a whisper.
“Told you it would be.” A surge of disappointment lances through me. I shove my hands into my pockets, wishing I’d heard what she was going to say. The timing was off, again.
How long were we trapped in here? Twenty minutes?
Thirty? It felt like so much more, and yet not enough.
Like we were more than just two trapped strangers.
She wobbles as she tries to slide one foot into her stiletto.
I crouch down and turn the shoe the right way up. Her dainty foot slides in easily.
“Thank you,” she murmurs, before sliding her foot into the other one.
I look up at her, and something shifts in her expression. I swallow, feeling like my insides are in tumult. The gentle press of her hand on my shoulder sends a jolt inside me. I swallow, then slowly stand, even though I’m starting to feel a little unbalanced as if the earth has shifted around me.
Something happened but I’m not sure what.
“Where are you going again?” I ask, heart thumping. I don’t understand this effect she has on me.
She opens her mouth, but before she can answer, the elevator doors slide open and Eddie stands waiting outside. The moment he sees me, his eyes widen in shock. “Mr. Kni—”
“It’s all good,” I say, interrupting.
“Sorry this happened it was a—”
“Not now, Eddie. You can explain later.”
I glance over my shoulder, hoping Elizabeth didn’t hear all that. She’s slipped on her jacket and picked up her large bag but now her eyes avoid mine. We step out of the elevator, like guilty teenagers, and face one another.
“Good luck with your presentation,” I say to her, wondering who she’s here to see.
“Good luck with wherever you were going.” She makes to move away, then pauses. “I don’t even know your name.”
I hesitate a moment. If she gets the job, I’ll see her again, and if she doesn’t, then it was never meant to be. “Matteo.”
Her expression softens. “Matteo.” I love how she says it. I love how it sounds so soft and new on her tongue. “Have a great day, Matteo.”
We pause, both turned away, like neither of us is quite ready to walk off. For a second it feels like I should say something more, ask for her number, or do something to keep this moment from ending.
But then Rio’s words from last night cut back in like a knife, slicing through the cosiness of what we just shared while being trapped.
Word is the old man’s been asking questions he shouldn’t be asking. Something about the tech glitches we’ve been having. Thought that was your domain, dude?
It is my fucking domain. And then I feel it again, the pressure that returns instantly. The easy feeling I had with Elizabeth slides away as stress pours back into my body, like cement, leaving me rigid and stuck.
Whatever this was between us vanishes. The special moment, the quiet connection, it's gone.
I don’t look at her again. I just turn away, fists curling as I walk off, the frustration already building under my skin.
***
ELIZABETH
I watch Matteo go, and feel profoundly confused.
From the second I stepped into this elevator it felt like we were meant to meet.
This guy, this stranger who now feels like anything but a stranger, was holding my hand just a few moments ago, and it felt perfect.
Like the most natural thing in the world, him comforting me.
His eyes filled with tenderness and, amidst the sound of the elevator whirring and being trapped, the world outside faded into the background.
I didn't feel anxious anymore. He calmed me down with the way he stroked my wrist, turning my insides light and giddy.
It’s the last thing I expected because I barely know him and I don’t trust many people, let alone strangers. I even opened up to him about my childhood, and that’s something I never do.
But he was different.
He had this assuredness about him. It’s something I’m working on. I’m brilliant at what I do, that’s why I’m here today, but I still don’t have the absolute confidence, the solid belief that things are going to be okay, because for me, things weren’t okay. Not for a long time.
Now I have a chance to finally put my life on a better footing.
When he told me that he looks for the positive in everything, my stomach flipped. His words were profound, and I love his world view.
But I'm also curious because his tattoos hint at a story of pain, and I wish we’d had more time to talk. I wish he’d give me something.
Anything.
He’s a closed book and now I've lost the opportunity to dig deeper.
My pulse is still pounding, my heart is racing, and I feel out of sorts.
None of these feelings are to do with the presentation I’m now late for. I feel a twinge of regret that we didn’t exchange numbers or anything, but I know his name, and I know where he works, and if I get this job we might run into each other again.
There was something between us. Something nebulous, and invisible but definitely there. Something as solid and as steady as the beating of my heart.
I glance at my watch, discover that I’m now almost half an hour late. And I’m on the wrong floor, but I quickly head towards the washroom here. First impressions count and I’m not feeling as put together as I need to be.
I check myself in the mirror. Flushed cheeks and shiny eyes stare back at me. I smooth my hair down, and catch the lighter dyed ends. I should have done a better job of dying my hair. I take out my nose ring, something I should have done before I left this morning.
He noticed these things.
Matteo.
I like his name. Interesting and different, just like him.
I shake my head, trying to snap my thoughts away from him.
I have to focus. This is important. My future’s counting on this.
I’m about to make what could be one of the most important presentations of my new career.
Not wanting to risk taking the elevator again, I quickly climb the stairs and head towards the reception desk.
It’s the same receptionist I met the last time when I came for the first and second interviews.
This is the final one. Talk about putting me through my paces.
You can do this, I tell myself.
Of all the projects I’ve had, of all the clients I’ve needed to impress ever since I set up my own cybersecurity company, this is the one I want the most.
“Hi there.” I flash a smile at the receptionist. “I’m here to see Paul Knight again. Sorry I’m late, but there was a problem with the elevator.”
“Miss Raven. He’s expecting you. The elevator. He knows. Don’t worry. He’s in the meeting room this time. Follow me, please.”
I do as she says.
“Were all the elevators down?” I ask.
“No, just the one.”
As we approach a door, I hear loud noises coming from inside the room. The receptionist pauses.
“Oh dear,” she murmurs.
“You went behind my back!” a man bellows.
“I own this company and I can do as I please.” The reply is clipped and controlled, yet filled with quiet rage.
My stomach knots. I feel my pulse racing. “I’m so late,” I say, feeling queasy and unsure.
The receptionist knocks and the arguing stops. A second later, the door swings open. Paul Knight is standing in the doorway, looking as charming and as intimidating as only he can. Not a trace of the confrontation remains on his face.
He seems a little different today. A little tired, maybe?
I’ve met him a couple of times before and he’s always looked perfectly groomed and prepared for anything.
The lines around his pale blue, almost grey, eyes seem more pronounced than usual.
But his silver hair is as smooth as ever.
Not a strand out of place. He’s tall and solid, almost like he's made from steel.
Cold in a controlled, intimidating way, and even though we've met before, I'm still not used to being around him.
“Elizabeth Raven is here,” the receptionist announces. She gives me a reassuring smile and leaves.
“Sorry I’m late,” I mumble, staring at Mr. Knight.
“Miss Raven. At last, you’re here,” he says calmly, shaking my hand. In my periphery I see someone pacing around the room.
“I’m sorry I’m late. The elevator stopped working.”
“I know. Don’t worry. Come on inside, Elizabeth. I don’t bite.”
“The hell you don’t,” the guy pacing around mumbles.
I know that voice. In that same instant, he stops pacing. My gaze falls on him and my throat dries instantly.
It’s him. Matteo. The elevator guy.
Charged silence fills the room.
Somehow I manage to put one foot in front of the other and move into the room. There’s a large glass table. A projector. Everything’s set up for my presentation.
Only, my world has imploded and suddenly, I’m all over the place. My breath stutters and in the pit of my stomach I know instinctively that the guy I thought was a janitor, is clearly not a janitor. Or a maintenance man.
Not if he’s here in a room with Paul Knight.
Arguing with Paul Knight.
He looks equally stunned, but masks it quickly.
“Everything is all set for you to start,” Paul says, oblivious to everything.
“You’re not the janitor?” My shock gives way to clumsiness and the words fall out.
Paul stops, looks at me, then at Matteo. “A janitor?” he asks, in disbelief. Then he laughs. “You thought he was the janitor?” He nods at Matteo. “When you dress like that, what do you expect?” he says to him.
Matteo glares at Paul, then at me.
“This is Matteo, my son.” Paul spits the word “son” out like it’s a curse.
I can scarcely breathe.
His son?
He’s from that family?
Now I understand what Matteo meant when he said Corporate won’t approve.
Corporate is his father, and clearly, he doesn’t approve, not just of how Matteo dresses, but of something more, something deeper, something fractured. But this is more than a fracture in their relationship.
I suddenly get a feeling about Matteo, about the words he didn’t say. About the tattoos on his skin. About the ink that tells a story. If only I had gotten close enough to dig deeper.
“Matteo, meet Elizabeth Raven,” Paul says. “Elizabeth runs her own cybersecurity firm. She’s on her final interview—”
“For what?” Matteo snaps.
“I’m looking for an external consultant to audit our systems—”
“To do what?” Matteo is pissed.
“To help your team to figure out what’s behind the software glitches we’ve been having,” his father says, unfazed.
“This is Elizabeth, and she’ll be doing a presentation—”
“We already met ... between floors.” Matteo’s hands are buried deep in his pockets. He glares at his father. “Why is this the first I’ve heard about this? Final interview, did you say?”
Paul puts his hands up and shrugs. “You’ve been too busy to deal with the technical issues, I figured you’d be too busy to do this.”
Matteo’s eyes burn with rage. “I’m on it, I told you. You don’t have to go around poking your nose in my business.”
They were arguing about this.
About me.
Matteo didn’t know and now that I think about it, all my meetings have been with Paul Knight. How does Matteo fit into all this? His jaw is clenched so tight, I fear he’ll grind his teeth down.
Paul turns to me. “Matteo is the Chief Technology Officer, responsible for tech and cybersecurity, amongst other things.”
Seriously? Every muscle in my body turns to stone. “W-will I be working alongside him?”
“Yes.”
My mind boggles. His father didn’t think to involve him in hiring me? No wonder he’s now looking at me like he wants to rip me to shreds.
Family and Truth, the words inked on his wrists.
This family feels like they’re at war.