This time, genuine laughter rippled through the crowd—not loud, but real. Her chest sagged in a relieved exhale. Guests slowly turned to face the windows, where lightning continued to fracture the sky in brilliant, jagged arcs. The drama of it distracted them, at least for now.
Lena glanced back toward the employee hallway, her mind already racing. Where the hell was David? He was usually hovering nearby, solving problems before anyone noticed they existed. But now, when she actually needed him?—
The door swung open, and there he was.
David stepped through, his tablet clutched like a shield. His dark hair was tousled—like he’d run nervous fingers through it a dozen times—and his damp navy polo clung to thedefined planes of his chest and shoulders. His eyes, sharp and blue behind black-framed glasses, swept the room once before landing on her.
Relief flooded through her so fast it made her knees weak.
She rushed toward him, her heels tapping a rapid rhythm across the tile. The scent of him surrounded her as she got close—clean soap, rich coffee, and that odd burnt-wiring smell that clung to him after he’d been elbow-deep in server racks. She found it strangely comforting.
“David,” she hissed, grabbing his forearm without thinking. His skin radiated warmth beneath her palm, solid and real. A buzz of tension sparked off him. “Shouldn’t the generators have kicked in by now? These people are one lukewarm canapé away from a full revolt. And the elevators—” Her words faltered as the realization hit her. “Oh god, do we have people stuck in the elevators?”
His eyes flicked to his tablet, fingers already dancing over the screen like a concert pianist mid-performance. “Yes,” he said, his voice clipped, distracted. “Generators are on a thirty-second delay. We’re well past that. Elevators—yeah. Hold on.”
He tapped rapidly, his brow furrowing. Lena’s gut twisted.
“Yup,” he confirmed, glancing up, his blue eyes intent. “They’re all down. Normally, one runs on emergency backup, and the others drop to the first floor and lock. Without generator power, they’ll be frozen wherever they were when the power failed. The controller’s still functional, though, so as soon as we get power back, it’ll restart the protocol.”
His attention locked on her, and for a moment, she forgot to breathe. His intense gaze searched her face—reading her the way he read lines of code.
“You might want to warn PBX to be ready for elevator panic calls,” he added.
Lena’s grip on his arm tightened. “Right. I’ll radio them.”
“I can’t reach the generator controller through the network,” David continued, frustration bleeding into his tone. His jaw tightened. “Something’s blocking me. I need to get to the unit directly.”
Her hand shot out, fingers wrapping around his wrist. “Wait. You can’t go out in that storm. David, that’s insane—there’s debris flying past the glass!”
His attention snapped to her, and the way his eyes dropped to where her hand still gripped his wrist made her pulse skip. Slowly, he raised his eyes back to hers. His expression softened, the hard edges of frustration melting into something warmer.
“Relax, Firecracker. I don’t have to go outside. There’s a maintenance tunnel. Underground. I’ll be in and out.”
She wanted to protest, to grab him by both shoulders and tell him to stay put, to let someone else handle it. The logical part of her brain knew only he could fix this. Still, the tightness in her chest didn’t ease.
“Okay,” she whispered, her thumb brushing against the inside of his wrist without conscious thought. “Be careful. Please.”
His hand reached up and closed over hers. Warm. Steady. Reassuring in a way that made her heart stutter.
“I’m always careful.” His lips curled into that nerdy half-smile that did inexplicable things to her insides.
He released her hand and slipped through the door, tablet clutched in one palm, tension carving an invisible wake.
Lena stood still for a moment, her hand still tingling from his touch. Her heart ticked loudly in the vacuum he left behind. Around her, the guests murmured and shifted, their collective anxiety a living thing pressing against her awareness.
She turned back toward the Callahans, who remained at her desk, watching her with curious eyes.
“Everything’s going to be fine,” she told them, her voice firm and calm. “Our engineer is handling it personally.”
Mrs. Callahan smiled, eyes twinkling. “He seems very… capable.”
Lena’s lips twitched. “He is.”
She moved back behind the desk where Emily waited, chewing her lip. “Em, I need you to radio PBX and let them know we might have guests stuck in elevators. Have them ready to take calls and keep people calm. Tell them we’re working on it, and the generators should be up soon.”
“Got it.” Emily grabbed the radio and retreated to the back office.
Lena squared her shoulders, smoothed her blouse, and turned back to face the crowd. The storm raged outside, lightning turning the sky into a battlefield, but inside, she would hold the line. She had to. This job, this chance to rebuild her life, was a lifeline that had saved her from drowning. She couldn’t afford another black mark. So, yes, she’d hold the line.
