Page 31 of Boss of Attraction
I couldn’t help but laugh despite the situation. “Yeah, who needs trust falls when you have a malfunctioning elevator?”
“Let me call 911.”
Could this day get any worse? Everything had gotten better, but now it was turning to shit again. How long did it take to get rescued from an elevator? What if we were trapped between floors? What if the cable broke and we dropped ten floors? Was this how I died? I was trying not to panic as Sean spoke to the dispatcher.
“Yes, the elevator stopped … Probably between the eighth and ninth floor … Myself and another employee … No one answers.” He pressed the call button again and still no one responded. “Nothing … Really? … Great … Okay. Will do … Thank you.” He hung up. “It’s going to be a while.”
“Why?” I breathed.
“Warehouse fire or something.”
“Okay, but what does that have to do with us?”
“All units are tending to the fire. They said they’ll send someone as soon as they can.” He loosened his tie and sat on the floor with his back against the far wall.
“As soon as they can? How long is that?”
“I don’t know.”
I slid down the wall next to him. “Well, this sucks.”
“Not what you had planned for your Monday night?”
“Can’t say it was. You?”
Sean shook his head. “I was going to have dinner with my son and research some condos for sale in the area.”
“Buying a new place?”
“Would like to. My house is just too big for just me.”
I understood what he meant, but I’d never lived somewhere that was “too big.” Maybe one day.
“Fallon’s building is nice,” I remarked.
“Yeah, but not sure I want to live somewhere with Secret Service hanging around.”
“Has to be super safe, right?”
“True.”
I stared at the closed silver doors in front of us. I didn’t want to take out my phone in case, for some horrible reason, I needed all the battery power I had left of it. Maybe it was because I felt the dim lighting was hiding me from embarrassment, but even though Sean didn’t bring up my text, I finally had to get it off my chest.
“So about the text …”
“What text?”
My head snapped in his direction, and he was grinning at me.
“The text from Saturday night.”
“Oh,thattext.” He chuckled.
Okay, so he was laughing. That was good. “Yeah, so … that wasn’t meant for you.”
“Obviously. Who’s Sam?”
“My roommate.”
