Chapter 9 Bea backed up against the metal railing and blinked at me. "Did you just stop the elevator?" Startled, I threw my phone in the air, only narrowly managing to catch it and tuck it back in my pocket. Smooth, Sal. Real Smooth. "Why would you ask that?" She nodded toward my pocket. "You're a tech guy. You were playing with your phone, and-poof, the elevator stopped." She tapped her foot on the ground. Her black shoes had a small bow on the front. "So, did you?" Between the cuff of her pants and the top of her shoes was the barest strip of skin. Four inches at most. Just the top of her foot. I got caught up in those inches and couldn't look away. That delicate, pale stretch, the graceful curve over fine bones, the flash of a tattoo before it disappeared into the hem of her pants. Even the teasing glimpse of toe cleavage had me short-circuiting. Bea cleared her throat. I yanked my eyes from her feet, but her face was no less distracting. "Did you stop the elevator?" she asked again. "Doing something like that would be unhinged," I replied, probably too quickly. "It would be." She dropped her bags to the floor and folded her arms under her breasts. "I have another job in an hour." "I'm sure we'll be out of here in time for you to make it there." Bea wasn't easy for me to read. Her baseline mood was a little pissed off, and I couldn't tell if she was lingering there or had passed it. The frown tugging at her mouth was concerning, though. I couldn't afford to dig myself any deeper. "You're sure of that," she said flatly, "because you stopped the elevator." It wasn't a question this time. She didn't seem alarmed, which I took as a good sign. "I don't want you to be afraid of me." She tilted her head. "Do I have a reason to be?" "As I said, it would be unhinged for someone to stop an elevator purposely." "Only if their intentions are nefarious. I could be off, but I'm not getting bad-guy vibes from you." She huffed, her shoulders jumping. "Well, not the murder-y kind of bad guy. You're the charm-and-dash type." "I charmed you?" That made me inordinately pleased. I didn't think I'd ever charmed a single person in my life. "I'm more focused on the dashing." Ah, right. Of course she would be. She didn't understand why I'd withdrawn two years ago, and the reasons were too many to get into in an elevator. What I needed was more time to explain myself. "Do you still want to be chased?" I asked. Her brow furrowed. "What are you talking about?" I took a step forward. "I'd like it if you'd let me chase you." She blinked, her lips parting, a blush rising to her full cheeks. "You had your chance." "Who says I stopped?" "You did. When you didn't show up..." She shook her head. "It doesn't matter. A lot has changed in the past two years." "It has," I agreed, taking another step. When she still didn't seem alarmed, another. "But the part of me that wants to chase you? That's stayed exactly the same." Her gaze burned hot and hard, crawling over me like a midnight prowler, searching for a way inside. "Funny way of showing it," she muttered, flicking a glance to her nails like she was bored. Maybe she was. Probably. I wasn't known for my scintillating company. But she had called me charming. She liked me, at least a little. "What was the second strike?" She sighed, dropping one hand behind her back. "You aren't dropping that, are you?" "No. I'm not really a let-it-go kind of guy." Her lips pursed, then she finally let me have it. "You acted like you didn't know me on my first day at Nox. That was a pretty shitty thing to do, you know." "I see." I nodded, finally understanding why my reaction would have counted against me. "I knew exactly who you were, Bea. You're impossible to forget. But seeing you in my building was the last thing I'd expected. When I'm caught off guard, I don't always react well. What you interpreted as me acting like I didn't know you wasn't that. I was...processing." "Processing. Like a computer," she intoned. I huffed sadly. "I've been called that more than once." Computer, robot, android-all manner of the same emotionless machine. In some ways, I related to machines more than humans, but I was far from emotionless. I just expressed myself differently than most and knew from experience it was hard for a lot of people to take. She frowned. "I wasn't calling you a computer. I'm just trying to make sense of things. I don't think-" I'd never find out what else she had to say. The elevator's emergency phone began ringing, and Bea practically lunged for it. "Hello?" She eyed me with much-earned wariness as she spoke to the person on the other end. "I'm trapped with your CEO, so you'll probably want to expedite this process. Every minute he stands here, another million dollars goes down the drain. Do you want to be responsible for that, Victor?" She nodded and made a few sounds of affirmation as Victor replied. "Hmmm...interesting. An attack on the elevator's programming?" That earned me a razor-sharp glare. "I'd think Nox would be impenetrable." I held up my hands. "The elevator is serviced by a private company." She tapped her lips. "Shhh. I'm talking to Victor right now." Despite the fraught circumstances, I laughed. It wasn't often I was shushed these days, and coming from Bea, I liked it. It made me want to find other ways for her to scold me. Of course, I'd have to work my way back into her good graces, and I was nowhere near that point, but I thought maybe we had been getting somewhere before Victor had interrupted us. Bea hung up the phone and refolded her arms. "The elevator will be fixed in a few minutes." She eyed my pocket. "Or, you know, you could press a few buttons and fix it now." "I'm still unsure how you think I stopped the elevator from my phone." "I'm still unsure why you got on this elevator in the first place." "Isn't that obvious?" I moved into her space again. Not touching, but close enough to smell her fresh, barely there, warm vanilla scent. "I would like a chance to explain myself, but not here. Not when we're both working. If you decide you still hate me, I-" "I don't hate you, Tore." She jutted her chin. "I've barely thought about you." Whether that was true or a barb thrown out to save her pride, it stung regardless. "Okay. I understand." She let out a beleaguered sigh. "But if you feel a strong need to be heard out, I can give you a few minutes." "Tomorrow evening?" "I'm waitressing tomorrow evening. That won't work." Still waitressing? I thought... "The next night?" Bea offered, surprising me with her willingness to find a solution. Buoying me. "Yes. Can I text you an address? It would be ideal to speak in private, if you're comfortable." She nodded slowly. "As long as you're not planning on trapping me in a small metal box again." "You say that like it's a habit of mine." A series of beeps screeched, and suddenly, the elevator began descending. Bea grabbed her bags from the floor and shuffled toward the door. "I'll send you the address," I said. "Fine." Her hands tightened around the straps of her bag. "No trapping me, right?" "No trapping," I promised. I'd just have to be sure what I had to say was good enough for her to want to stay. Discover our latest featured short drama reel. Watch now and enjoy the story!