Page 6 of Tough Luck

Standing and straightening my jacket, I took a deep breath.

“Pretty important,” I finally answered, staring at a stray scuff on the wall. “I’ve been working all weekend on something I think would have impressed my boss, and now I’m just… going to be stuck as a web designer and data-entry clerk, under a man who takes all my ideas for his own, for the rest of my life.”

“Don’t count yourself out just yet,” he said, his voice surprisingly gentle. He walked over to the elevator buttons and hit the alarm, but nothing happened.

“I could have warned you,” I said dryly. “It’s been disconnected for two months.”

“I’m sure if you tell your boss that you were held hostage by the infrastructure, he’ll understand,” he said, hitting a few other buttons, without any luck.

“I’ve used that excuse a half-dozen times this month alone,” I sighed, rolling my eyes. “And I fear that my boss is running out of patience with me. I’ll just have to go with one of my backup excuses.”

The stranger arched a perfectly groomed eyebrow, looking thoroughly amused. “You have backup excuses for being late?”

“Of course I do. When you live my life, you keep a rotating catalog.” I ticked them off on my fingers. “Option A: I was temporarily recruited to join a search-and-rescue team for a missing kayak on Clear Creek. Option B: A rogue mountain goat barricaded my front door and demanded my breakfast burrito as ransom. And my favorite, Option C: I was attacked by a feral Yeti on my way to work.”

“A Yeti? In Golden, Colorado?”

“They migrate for the craft beer and bagels,” I said deadpan as I lifted my chin slightly.

The stranger gave a slow, devastatingly handsome smile that suddenly made the air in the stalled elevator feel very, very thin.

“Well, if you need a character witness for the Yeti attack, I’m happy to volunteer,” he joked back at me.

At that very moment, I think I fell in love, just a little.

Chapter 2

Rick

Who was this woman? I couldn’t stop staring at her or stop myself from laughing. The whole situation was, well, ridiculous.

Ten minutes ago, I’d been dreading my day. Four days ago I’d left my life on the California coast, where I’d been blissfully living for the past four years, to return to my hometown and play acting CEO at my family’s marketing firm in Golden, Colorado, which had felt like a mandatory sentence for a crime I hadn’t committed. I’d expected the next few months would be filled with stale corporate boardrooms, predictable handshakes, and a lot of safe, boring conversations. Including the meeting my father had scheduled early that morning to tell his entire staff that I was taking over for him.

Instead, I’d been violently tackled by a gorgeous, sharp-tongued spitfire who apparently used the local office infrastructure as an excuse to perform defensive football maneuvers on unsuspecting executives.

“You’re laughing at me,” she accused me, her voice hitting a defensive, breathless note that did something altogether too dangerous to my pulse. She was still pressed against the far wall of the elevator car, holding her briefcase to her chest like armor. She looked thoroughly panicked, like an incredibly striking deer caught in the headlights of what was about to become my daily life.

“I’m trying not to,” I corrected, though I didn’t really bother hiding the grin tugging at my mouth. I looked down at my wrinkled, bespoke Italian suit jacket and straightened it as best as I could. “But considering you just executed a flawless professional takedown on me, I think I’m entitled to a little amusement.”

She groaned, burying her face in her hands. Her dark hair fell forward, obscuring the brilliant flush that had crept all the way from the collar of her blazer up to her cheekbones. “I’m so fired for this. It’s fine.” She shrugged. “I’ve never been fired for assault before.”

“You’re not fired yet,” I said smoothly, crossing my arms and leaning back against the metal paneling. The elevator was dead silent, except for what I could only assume was the faint, distant thudding of a broom handle hitting a pipe somewhere down below us.

Ernie, I remembered. The legendary seventy-two-year-old savior that this woman bragged about. “Though you might have to look into your employee handbook about proper elevator etiquette.” My new first task of taking over for my father would be seeing that the archaic thing was properly fixed.

She peeked out from between her fingers, and her wide hazel eyes flashed with a sudden spark of that same fiery energy that had brought me to the ground. “For the record, if the wiring in this building actually met basic municipal codes, we would be upstairs right now.”

“A flawlessly logical defense if I’ve ever heard one.” I chuckled and nodded in agreement. I reached down, picking up a stray piece of paper that had landed on my shoe. It was an advertisement for a local yard maintenance company. I blinked. It was good. Really good. And I could tell she had only drawn it up in pencil thus far. I’d also been impressed by the other papers I’d seen scattered all over the elevator floor. Whoever this woman was, she had raw talent.

I looked back up at her. Her face wasn’t quite as flushed as before and she had an expression that was a mix of mortification and fierce defiance. She was completely transparent, entirely chaotic, and absolutely nothing like the corporate sycophants I usually dealt with in my line of business.

Suddenly, Golden was looking a whole lot more interesting than I’d anticipated.

“Sorry, I didn’t catch your name?” I said, raising my eyebrows slightly.

The moment she opened her mouth to respond, the elevator gave a quick jerk, and whatever she’d been about to say came out in a slight scream. She grabbed the railings and held on while the car took us smoothly up to the fourth floor.

When the doors opened, I held them open as she stepped out.