He chuffs at that. “Refined? You mean boring.”
Before I can answer there’s a noise—a horrendous grinding sound that makes the hair on the back of my neck rise—and then the elevator shimmies and stops abruptly. I reach out and grab for the small railing along the walls, and he reaches out and grabs me. His hand around my waist is tight and firm and it causes a tingle that has nothing to do with the fear from the faulty elevator. I can’t remember the last time I was this close to a guy this hot, which seems pathetic, but I’ve been busy with work, and since I found out about my dad being sick, I haven’t exactly been in the mood to go out and meet people.
When I’m convinced it’s not going to move again I step forward, out of his protective embrace, and look up at the lights telling us what floor we’re on. No floor is lit up. I punch the bottom-floor button again. Nothing happens.
“No,” I say out loud. “Just no.”
Eli steps forward. I can feel his whole body like a warm, muscled wall behind me. “It’s stuck.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“Fucking hell. Fuck my life!” I blurt out and instantly hate myself for it. I couldn’t be more unprofessional right now. Embarrassed by my outburst, I step away from him, closer to the panel of buttons, and hit the one marked Call. A ringing sound fills the elevator.
“It’s okay. We’ll get out of here,” he says in a soothing tone. “It’s not going to turn into a survival movie where one of us has to eat the other. Although I’m open to that…”
I snap my head up to stare at him. He’s grinning again. Jesus, does this guy take anything seriously? Why is everything sexual? And why is it suddenly warm in here?
Before I can chastise him the ringing stops and a voice comes out of the little speaker above the floor numbers. “Security.”
“Hey! We’re trapped in an elevator!” I yell, panicked.
“Okay, ma’am…” the security guard says. I bristle at that term and see Eli chuckle. “We have fourteen elevators in the building, so can you read me the number at the top of the panel? It’s engraved in the metal. That will tell me which one you’re in. I don’t see an alert on our system.”
Oh fuck. That can’t be good. “S4,” I say.
“Okay…” His pause fills me with dread. “We’ll figure this out. I will send someone over there to see if they can manually reset it and call the elevator company immediately. It will take a little bit of time though, so hold tight.”
“How long?” I ask and the anguish in my voice is more than a little apparent. It’s so strong Eli drops a hand on my shoulder and squeezes. “I have somewhere to be.”
“We’ll work as fast as we can, ma’am.”
“We’ll be fine. Thank you,” Eli says. “We’ll buzz you again if we need an ETA.”
He hits the button again and the little light that was lit up fades. I look up at Eli. “What did you do?”
“Ended the call so he can get to work getting us out of here,” Eli explains casually. I want to argue with him, but I don’t know why. He didn’t do anything wrong. I’m just raging inside that yet another thing today has totally backfired and I want someone to blame. Being late makes me crazy. I’m always early to everything—meetings, parties, doctor’s appointments, funerals.
I pull out my phone and pull up the PR director’s number. I text Mr. Carling that I’m stuck in an elevator. I’m about to make a bad first impression on a woman I’ve studied and admired since college.
“Who are you texting? Your boyfriend?”
I roll my eyes. “My boss. He was going to introduce me to the team owner, but now I’ve screwed that up.”
“It’s not your fault the elevator crapped out,” he reminds me.
“Yeah, she’s not going to care. She’s just going to see me as a screw-up,” I tell him, my voice filled with disappointment. “In her memoir Ryanne says all mistakes must be owned, and nothing is out of your control. If something goes wrong, there’s a reason, a choice you made, that should have been different. Like I could have taken the stairs.”
“Wow, you’ve read her memoir?” he says, his green eyes wide.
I nod. “She made her first million by twenty-eight. She’s a marketing genius and the only woman to own a professional hockey team. And the Thunder are the most popular California hockey team in the league, thanks to her marketing savvy.”
Eli’s expression seems to cloud a little, dimming the flirtatious twinkle in his eyes. “I’m sure she has flaws. Maybe even a dark side.”
I roll my eyes. “Yeah, men often say that about successful women.”
He chuckles. “I’m just saying. We all have a little fault in our stars.”
