He just shrugs, unbothered. “Last chance. Want anything?”
“No, I’m good. I’m heading there for lunch anyway,” I say, thinking of the quiet corner booth and the mountain of pasta I’m going to need to survive this day.
I watch Leon go, a small smile tugging at my mouth despite my lingering annoyance with Theo. I wonder if he’s actually asked her out yet. There’s no way she’ll say no.
I gather my belongings and slowly make my way out of the room toward the elevator, slipping in, I press fifteen. The doors start to shut.
“Hold the lift!” Theo’s voice shouts.
I wave my hand in front of the sensors, and the doors reopen.
He steps inside and mutters, “Thanks.”
There’s no music or any other sound to fill the silence. My brain chantsdon’t make it weird, don’t make it weird.I stare straight ahead, counting the seconds by the floor numbers.
“Glad I could meet the bare minimum of your expectations.” The sarcasm slips out.
And I’ve done it again. Foot in mouth. Darn it.
“I’m sorry.” He hangs his head. “Again. I didn’t mean to offend you,” he whispers.
“Save your apologies. They obviously mean nothing.” I don’t bother looking at him.
The elevator dings. I stride out, heels clicking far too loudly on the polished concrete floor. The sound of Theo’s shoes follows. Weird. I waspositivehe pressed the lobby button. My pulse spikes. I stop short and pivot, nearly smacking into his chest. “Is there a reason you’re following me?”
His brow arches. “My office is this way. Before I go home, I need my bag and my tablet since Leon’s disappeared with my laptop.”
Right. The glass-walled corner office across from the copy room. The one nobody wants because it’s like being inside a human fish tank. There’s zero privacy. Everybody can see exactly what you’re doing at all times. Heat crawls up the back of my neck. I refuse to let it reach my face.
He strides ahead without another word. I peel off toward my workstation and drop my things onto my chair with a soft thud. I blow out a long breath and nudge my glasses up the bridge of my nose.
Theo may be heading home, but that doesn’t lighten my workload. If anything, it probablydoublesit. Anya will absorb whatever projects he’s left unfinished, and in true trickle-down economics, she’ll redistribute her overflow to us underlings. Lucky me.
Which means it’s time for coffee. Not a sad, beige K-cup. A sugary, overpriced latte with some extra pumps of syrup and two shots of espresso.
I grab my phone and wristlet, call the elevator back up, and open Photogram to occupy my mind while waiting. My sister has posted photos from her weekend trip to Iceland. Derrick and Andy have uploaded laser-tag selfies with the Mamma Lina’s ladies. All four of them stand in Charlie’s Angels poses, clearly having the time of their lives.
The elevator dings. But just before the doors slide open,the overhead lights sputter Once, Twice. Then cut out entirely. The room goes pitch-black. The hum of the AC dies. A stunned silence settles over the floor.
Someone down the hall groans, “Oh, comeon.”
Another voice mutters something unprintable. Chair wheels squeak. A stapler clatters to the ground.
I blink into the sudden dim, my eyes slowly adjusting. Heat presses down without the AC. “Great. A power outage. I guess it means I’m taking the stairs.”
“The backup generators should kick in within thirty seconds,” Theo says as he strolls up beside me, holding a suitcase.
“That’s good to hear, but I’m still taking the stairs. I’m not risking getting stuck in there.” I’m not claustrophobic, but the thought of being stuck in the dark in a tight five-by-seven spacewithTheo is one of my worst nightmares come true. I don’t understand why the universe keeps throwing him at me like a cosmic joke.
I slip my phone into my pocket and scan the hallway for the nearest exit. That’s when a far more practical problem dawns on me. I have no idea where the stairs actuallyare. It’s my third week here. I should know by now. There has to be an illuminated sign, but with the power out, the whole corridor looks unfamiliar.
Theo stands a step behind me, a crease cutting sharply between his brows.
“I don’t understand,”he mutters. “The generators should’ve switched over by now.”
“Power is going to be out for a while. The tree trimmers dropped a branch on a powerline and it’s gone down. Thewhole block’s lost electricity while the line is being repaired,” somebody shouts.
More groans.
