Chapter 6 Elevator Apocalypse
Elevator Apocalypse
Lena stared at David, her heart fluttering in a post-panic buzz that left her skin tight and her breathing shallow. His teasing tone wrapped around her, and for one brief, disorienting moment, she didn’t know if she wanted to roll her eyes or lean in.
She settled for both, narrowing her eyes with mock suspicion.
She shook out her nervous limbs with a dramatic shiver.
“Okay, I’m ready.” She inhaled deeply and summoned a flick of sarcasm.
“But I swear if I hear one creak in that elevator again, I’m taking the stairs for the rest of my natural life.
I don’t care if it’s ten floors and uphill in the snow. Before breakfast.”
Her legs still wobbled like overcooked noodles. She surged forward, needing movement and fresh air; her pulse still pounded under her skin.
Behind her, David chuckled—low, deep, annoyingly sexy—and matched her stride with ease. His shoulder brushed hers, a gentle nudge that said, I’m here. She wasn’t sure why something in her chest loosened, but it did.
“Aw, come on, Lena. I’m just teasing!” he offered lightly before shifting into that smooth, professional tone that somehow made her want to trust him and slug him in equal measure. “Let’s see who made it to the meeting, check the status of our guests, and go from there.”
“Hold up.” She pulled her phone from her pocket; the familiar weight helped her reset. “Let me check in with Alex. I need to make sure there weren’t any guest-related meltdowns while you had me playing Sleeping Beauty in a 5x7 tin can of doom.”
He gave her a slight bow, all fake chivalry and tech-nerd charm. “As you wish.”
Lena rolled her eyes and leaned back against the smooth wall as she tapped on her phone. “Did you really quote The Princess Bride to me?” The lobby chatter of arriving guests hummed in her ear as the call connected.
“Good morning, Front Desk. Alex speaking. How may I help you?”
Relief flooded her at the sound of his casual tone. “Alex, it’s me. Any fallout from the elevator apocalypse?”
“Not too bad,” Alex replied. “A couple of people were a little spooked, but most… well, most were grateful to be out. I think we’ll get more questions later once the shock wears off.”
David’s voice drifted out from inside the suite—more measured now, more serious. He poked his head out of the doorway. “We’re about to start.”
She held up one finger, turning back to her call. “Thanks, Alex. I’ll ask the big bosses what our official story is. Let me know if anything escalates, okay?”
“You got it.”
She hung up, squared her shoulders, and pressed her hand to her stomach where nerves still pinballed around. The murmur behind the door reminded her that this was the Management League of Extraordinary Men—a group that could make her job seamless… or spectacularly miserable.
Breathe.
She pushed the door open and was hit with orchids and overactive AC. Cold air, expensive flowers, corporate intimidation. She made a beeline for the empty seat beside David and slid into it before doubt could argue.
Nick, power suit and slight smirk in place, rapped two knuckles on the table. “Thank you for joining us. I know some of you took a scenic route getting here, so we’ll keep this brief. Frontline teams are going to field questions about the elevator incident. David?”
David leaned forward, all smooth confidence. “The controller system shut down and blocked our access codes. I haven’t pulled the logs yet. Could be a timing glitch or a corrupted update. I’ll know more this afternoon.”
Nods around the table. Murmurs. Very corporate.
Lena raised a hand. “What do we tell guests? They’ll start demanding answers as soon as the warm and fuzzy relief wears off.”
Heads turned, assessed. She swallowed hard and kept her gaze on Nick.
“Good call, Lena,” he said. “For now, standard language: we’re investigating, but it appears to be a faulty software update. That buys us time and avoids pointing fingers. We’ll adjust if needed.”
He scanned the table again. “Which brings me to the next item. Everyone, please welcome Lena Harris, Interim Front Office Manager. She’s stepped up when we needed her. While we reassess the Rooms Division structure, she’s hit the ground running. We’re lucky to have her.”
Lena blinked. For half a second, her brain turned to static. Then rebooted. All eyes were on her.
She straightened, customer-service smile sliding into place, nails digging into her thighs under the table.
David’s fingers brushed hers. She glanced at him. He gave her hand a quick squeeze—steady, grounding—and then returned his attention to Nick as if nothing had happened.
Except it had.
It mattered.
David didn’t miss a beat. “Personally, I’m thrilled she’s here.
Otherwise, I’d still be barricading the desk with chairs and inventing new four-letter acronyms to avoid human interaction.
” Laughter rippled. “She’s already prevented six guest complaints and multiple HR violations for advanced profanity. ”
More laughter. Despite the adrenaline, Lena smiled.
She leaned toward him, hiding her voice behind her hand. “Thanks,” she whispered. He gave a single wink—back to neutral.
The sales and marketing manager launched into catering numbers no one wanted to hear. Lena tried to focus, but her mind slipped.
The elevator. The pressure in the air. The strange hum beneath her skin.
David had gone utterly still—eyes locked on his tablet, screen dark, fingers unmoving. The intensity of him had frightened her more than the stalled car.
Then—the lights snapped on. The elevator moved. Like someone had rewritten reality.
Her gaze shifted to him now. Calm profile. Tablet glowing faintly. He had done something. She didn’t know how. But she knew.
Lena straightened. She would pay attention. Not to the sabotage, or the guests. To him. Things weren’t adding up.