Page 1 of Emergency Exit
1
Asher
The Smith Tower
Asher Valkyrie slipped into the back hallway of Smith Tower, relieved not to have seen anyone. The Smith Tower was a vintage art deco beauty, and even the back of house areas featured architectural fretwork and an extravaganza of décor, but it was the front-of-house, anachronistically hand-operated elevator that Ash wanted to avoid. Or rather the elevator operator that went with it.
The operator, Stanley, was an over-sixty gentleman who believed in taking an interest in the people he brought up and down the thirty-eight-story building and had ferried Asher up to the penthouse suite on many occasions. So many, in fact, that there was no way Stanleywouldn’tremember who Asher usually arrived with and Ash was in no mood to answer the question of where his girlfriend was one more time. Ash had barely been convinced to come tonight because Mason had sworn himself blue in the face that Emma wouldnotbe in attendance. Ash didn’t want to be anywhere near the same building as his ex, but people were starting to talk and investors were getting nervous. Ashhadto show up.
Ash rounded the corner, his spirits lifting, as he approached the service elevator and nearly stopped dead at the sight of a knock-out brunette in a little black dress that fit her like a glove. Her near-black hair formed a charming little curl on her forehead while she frowned at her phone. As he punched the button for the elevator, he saw her lift her head and look around, confusion written all over her face.
The ancient HVAC system kicked on with a whoosh as the service elevator arrived with a ding, the doors creaking open with the speed of an antique. For a moment, Asher debated saying anything. He really didn’t want to interact with any of the other guests. His goal was to sayhito Mason and then ditch out before anyone asked him about Emma. But on the other hand, he wasn’t blind. The girl in the hallway was gorgeous. And she looked lost. Saying something was the gentlemanly thing to do.
He put one foot into the elevator and turned to look at the girl. “Richland party?” he called over the loud hum of the vents.
She immediately looked relieved and hurried to get in the elevator with him.
“Thank you!” she exclaimed as the elevator doors chugged closed. “I was so not sure I was in the right place or even the right building.”
“You were confused about the building?” he asked, bemused that anyone could mistake the Smith Tower for anything other than itself. It had once been the tallest building west of the Mississippi. Asher knew fuck all about architecture, but his brother was currently building two of the new skyscrapers that looked down on the Smith Tower. The last family gathering had included an enthusiastic ramble from Forest about the awesomeness of the Smith Tower. But architectural expert or not, everyone could recognize the pyramid-topped building in Seattle’s skyline. The unique building housed a penthouse apartment in the pyramid—currently owned by Stephanie and Mason Richland—and a speakeasy-style cocktail bar on the thirty-fifth floor below it.
The girl paused, her eyes narrowing, and then sighed. “This is one ofthosebuildings, isn’t it?” she asked.
“Which buildings?”
“I moved here two months ago, and everyone has been very helpful.”
Ash was sure that they had been. With her looks, he was willing to bet that she had people falling over themselves to help her.
“But they keep forgetting to tell me all the things thateverybody knows.” She made air quotes around the phrase. “I’m only good at faking like I belong somewhere. People still need to tell me things.”
He chuckled at her exasperation. He understood faking like he belonged somewhere all too well. He felt like he’d been doing it all his life.
“What sort of things have they failed to tell you about?” he asked.
“Dick’s burgers. How to say Puyallup.” She sounded as if she were still carefully walking through that one. “Or that when someone sayslook at the mountain, I should not askwhich one?”
He laughed again. “There’s really only one.”
“Well, I know thatnow,” she said. “Also, I have to say that there is an utter failure to mention that Rainier is an active volcano.”
“Oh. Huh. Yeah. It is.”
“It’s like it just slips everyone’s memories.”
“It doesn’t do much, so I think everyone tends to ignore it,” he said, amused at her outrage.
“Thatishow volcanoes work. They don’t do much until they do. And then they do a lot.” She paused and shook her head, looking embarrassed. “Sorry, occupational hazard. I’m a consultant in Emergency Management.”
“You tell people how to manage their emergencies?”
It was her turn to laugh. “I tell people how topreparefor their emergencies. Like, maybe, not ignoring the giant volcano you all live next to. But I will stop talking about that because it makes people not like me.”
“You have a basement full of canned food, don’t you?”
“Tiny apartment—no basement. But I do have thirty gallons of potable water.”
“Oh, well, next emergency I’m showering with you then.”
