“That’s gonna take hours,” a woman says.
Even if the building has its own set of backup generators, I’m not waiting for it to reboot itself. This girl needs coffee.
While Theo puzzles through the electrical mystery, I spot a faint green-and-white “EXIT” sign near the bathrooms. “Found it,” I say, already moving.
I push the door open. A wave of hot, humid air rolls over me. The stairwell feels ten degrees warmer than the office. Bare concrete walls frame a narrow space lit only by dim emergency fixtures along the landings. It’s not bright enough to be comforting, but enough that I can see where the steps begin and avoid tumbling down fifteen flights in my pumps.
A moment later, I hear Theo muttering under his breath as he steps in behind me. The heavy door swings shut and slams with a metallic clang that echoes up the stairwell. “I’m not following you. There’s only one way down.”
“Nope. I’m not doing this.” I spin around and shove the push bar.
Nothing happens. I shove again, harder. Still nothing. “Are these electronic or something?”
“It’s locked,” he says, as if announcing the weather.
“Locked?”
“Mm-hmm,” he hums noncommittally.
“And why would it be locked?” I fire back.
“Security reasons. You could use your badge to scan yourself back in if the power were on. Otherwise, you need keys.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” I rattle the handle again, giving it the kind of yank that should at least make itconsideropening. It doesn’t budge. I turn to Theo. “You have your keys, right?”
He puts down the suitcase and pats his jacket pockets. Then his trousers. His face tightens ever so slightly. “On my desk.”
“You left them?” I ask, incredulous. A laugh bubbles up, but this isn’t funny enough to release it. “Of course you did.”
“Not by choice.” He pulls out his phone. “I’ll ring facilities.” His thumbs fly across the screen. A beat later, he mutters a curse. “We’re in a dead spot. There’s no service.”
I check my own phone and consider hitting the SOS symbol in the corner. But it’s not reallythatmuch of an emergency.
“I suppose”—Theo crosses his arms, voice clipped—“the only way out is down to the ground level.”
“Fifteen flights.” I swallow hard, thinking about having to spend it walking with him. “Maybe I should just wait until somebody comes to find me.”
“If you want to sit in the dark, be my guest.” He starts down the steps. “It’s too hot for this, and I’m running on two hours of sleep. Anya insisted I go home, so I’m going home.”
“Fantastic,” I mutter, tilting my head back and staring at the ceiling. The heat is already gathering at the back of my neck. “Trapped in a stairwell with Mr. Sunshine himself.”
Fifteen flights is going to be averylong way down.
Seven
The stairwell smells faintly of dust and warm metal, and the air hangs heavy. Without the ventilation system, it’s thick and humid. My blouse is already sticking to my spine.
The faster I get outside, the faster I can escape Theo’s gravitational field. He starts down without waiting for me. I follow. But with every descending step, the same thought presses against me.Fifteen. Flights. Of. This.
Our footsteps echo in the concrete shaft. The only other sound is the grunt Theo lets out whenever he adjusts his grip on his luggage. The thing looks like it’s about to split open at the seams.
On the third flight, my mind is so preoccupied that I don’t realize Theo has stopped and I bump right into him. My hand shoots out to steady myself against his arm. It’s surprisingly firm. “Sorry,” I mutter, dropping it immediately. Heat sears my cheeks.
“Careful,” he says, slightly out of breath. He straightens, rolling his shoulders. I register, against my will, howbroad they are. Adding to my list of things I find irritating about Theo Riverton is how well built his body is.
The silence stretches out just long enough to be awkward. I clear my throat. “You know, you could leave your bag here and come back for it tomorrow. No need to haul it down fifteen floors,” I say nodding toward it.
“No.” His answer is immediate, too sharp. He drags in a few slow breaths. “It was a gift from my grandmother. And even if it weren’t, I’d never leave it behind. Somebody might steal my stuff.”
