Page 180 of One More Kiss

April

Ryan stuckhis hands into his pockets, and I put mine into the pockets in his coat. My fingers were like little blocks of ice, and the fleece-lined pockets started thawing them immediately. I needed to move, so I’d started fidgeting to try to stay warm, but my dress hadn’t dried completely in the car, and my hair was just plain wet. Being in a cold elevator wasn’t helping. It hadn’t been that long since it had stopped moving, but I was surprised we hadn’t started back up. It never occurred to me that we would be in here for an extended amount of time.

“How long do you think it will take for someone to fix the elevator?”

Ryan glanced at me with the same hopelessness I felt, although for different reasons.

“Did you press the call button?”

He shook his head and turned toward the panel. “That would make sense. Not sure why we’ve stood here for ten minutes without thinking of that.”

I didn’t know the answer to that, either. Foolishly, I assumed the elevator would start back on its own. I’d never been stuck in one that had quit working. If I had, I never would have gotten into another one. That wasn’t true. I wasn’t walking up fifty-four flights of stairs to get to my home, not even on a good day, much less every day. There were perks to being on the top floor—that, however, wasn’t one of them. My thighs and calves burned just thinking about that hike, and I couldn’t imagine how much I’d hate myself if I forgot something in my car and not only had to go back down but come back up.

Ryan must have pressed the button because a voice came through the speaker, and it was like God had suddenly joined us from above. Whoever was on the other end had a deep voice that was louder than it should have been for such a small space.

“Can I help you?”

Ryan glanced at me, and I shrugged. I didn’t know what to say.

“Hey, yeah, umm, we’re trapped in an elevator.”

“I’ll notify the elevator company so they can contact the maintenance department in the building or send out a crew.”

The expression on Ryan’s face changed from one of indifference to alarm. “What do you mean you’ll notify the elevator company? Aren’t you the elevator company? Or hell, the maintenance department?”

The guy on the other end of the button clearly wasn’t interested in Ryan’s meltdown or his concern. The boredom was evident in his tone, and I was pretty sure if Ryan could have gotten ahold of the guy, he’d have put his hands around the other man’s throat. “I’m just a dispatcher, sir.”

“A dispatcher?” Ryan was incredulous, and in any other circumstances where my day—hell, my week—hadn’t been crap and I wasn’t shivering, I might have found his demeanor cute, endearing almost.

Today wasn’t that day.

“Yes, sir. A dispatcher. You know, someone who answers calls and dispatches help? Kind of like 9-1-1 but without the emergencies. Is this an emergency?”

When Ryan looked at me once more, I again shrugged. I mean, it sucked, but I wasn’t dying and didn’t have any life-threatening situation taking place.

“I mean, I guess not—”

“I didn’t think so.”

Ryan maintained his composure, although again, it was likely only because the dispatcher wasn’t within striking distance and our only hope for assistance. “How long do you think it might take for help to arrive?”

“Based on the power outage across a large portion of the city?” The guy waited like we would have an answer or have even known about a power outage since we were stuck in an elevator. “I’d say it might be a while. But I’ll get right on it.”

I had no more faith in the man behind the button than I did in Ryan’s ability to pull the elevator car up to the top floor so I could hop off and take a warm bath.

Ryan balled his fist like he was going to hit something but dropped his hand to his side instead. “Thanks, man. You’ve been an enormous help.” Sarcasm dripped from his voice, and I realized that in another situation, I would like Ryan; we could be friends.

“I aim to please.” The dispatcher matched Ryan’s cynicism tit for tat, and then he disconnected with a click.

Ryan turned to me and thumbed over his shoulder. “Do you believe that guy? He didn’t ask if we were okay, how many people were in here, if anyone was hurt—what if someone needs to go to the bathroom?”

I giggled. I hadn’t meant to. It was a break from the misery I’d kept as company for days, and I’d desperately wanted to hold on to the darkness, the grief, the pain. It had become a comfort in an odd way, like a blanket on a cold night. Then it occurred to me that if we didn’t get help soon, we had no food, no water, and…nowhere to go to the bathroom. And that was dire. My laughter died on my lips, and I slid to the floor, pulling my knees to my chest and tucking my dress around my bare feet.

Ryan took a seat in the corner opposite me with his feet on the floor and his legs bent. He draped his forearms on his knees and chewed his lip, clearly apprehensive. “What just happened there?”

I shook my head, trying to quell the panic taking over and ward off tears pooling in my eyes. The moment my lip trembled, I knew something was coming out. It would either manifest in a full-blown anxiety attack or a blubbering mess of grief, but one of the two was brewing faster than I could breathe—and then I had trouble doing that.

Panic had won.

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