The Elevator Encounter
"You do notice we're not moving, right?"
"Yeah, but…."
He shook his head and closed his eyes again while she continued to pace frantically. It had only been about twenty minutes. They had already called for help once. Now there was nothing left to do but wait.
"I hate elevators," she remarked. "This is why. They're not safe. What if we die in here?"
He let out an audible sigh. "Look, we didn't plummet to our death, did we? No. We didn't. Yes, we're stuck. There's a blizzard outside, and from what they told me on the phone, half the city is without power. We're just going to have to wait it out."
"How can you be so calm?"
"Because I choose to be."
She opened her mouth to speak but found no words. There was a simplicity in his answer for which she wasn’t prepared. Resigning herself to the situation, she plopped herself down against the opposite wall of the elevator, stretched and cross her legs. He didn't open his eyes, but raised a single eyebrow as if to say "I told you so." She took advantage of the moment to finally notice the man who would be her unwanted roommate for an indefinite amount of time. She could have done worse.
He was tall, and obviously fit. His dark hair was just starting to grey and his eyes were such a deep blue they almost seemed indigo. He wore no wedding band, and when the band of his expensive watch shifted she could just make out a tan line around his wrist. He had removed his shirt jacket, and the thin material of his neatly pressed, white dress shirt did little to hide the half-sleeve tattoo that covered the entirety of his upper right arm.
"You're up on twelve, right?" she asked.
"Yeah," he answered, again without looking up.
"I'm on six."
"I know."
"What do you mean you know? We've never met!"
"We've ridden this elevator probably a hundred times together. You just didn't notice because you were either always on your phone or talking to that blonde, Jenna."
"How," she began to ask before stopping mid-sentence. He was right. And he was clearly far more observant than she. "I'm Kara."
Finally he looked up. Politely he leaned forward and held out his hand. "Drew. Nice to meet you."
Kara shook his hand and was surprised that it was as rough as it was. He seemed an enigma – he worked in a professional office building, wore nice suits and ties, yet there was something very different just below the surface. Now she was intrigued. "So, what do you do, exactly?"
"Business mergers, basically," he answered shortly. Clearly he wasn't a conversationalist, yet she continued.
"So what does that mean, exactly?"
Drew proceeded to give her the nuts and bolts, Cliff's Notes version of his job description. She feigned interest. "So, nice tattoo," she continued.
Drew glanced down at his arm. He hadn't really noticed how transparent his shirt really was, as he typically had his suit coat on over it. "Thanks."
"So, do you –"
"Do you have to begin every sentence with the word 'so'? It's very annoying."
Kara furrowed her brow. "That was rude," she said indignantly. "Are you always this much of a jerk to complete strangers?"
"Look, Kara, I'm sure you're a delightful person. But right now we're just two people stuck in an elevator. I wasn't looking to make friends when I got in here. I just want to go home."
"Fine."
"OK."
"Fine," she repeated. Not that she wanted his attention, but the fact that he wouldn't give it irked her. She turned her attention to her phone but couldn't help glancing over the top of it every few seconds to see if he was looking. She only caught him once. Briefly.
Kara was an attractive woman. She was short, maybe 5'3" as best as he could tell, and was enticingly curvy. The black slacks she wore clung in just the right places, and the scoop-necked blouse perfectly complimented her body style. Her cropped, two-toned brown and blonde hair perfectly framed her face and her eyes were somewhere between hazel and brown. Under different circumstances, he would have enjoyed a conversation. At the moment, it was all he could do to keep his extreme claustrophobia under control. It was becoming clear, however, that she was mistaking his dilemma for indifference. The only way he knew to control his fear, though, was through deep breathing and meditation, of which Kara was greatly interfering.
"So," she began again.
Drew sat up and did the one thing he was sure would keep her quiet – He moved to the other side of the elevator car, kissed her softly, and then moved back to his wall and closed his eyes. Kara was so stunned that she didn't say another word for at least five minutes, and that was enough for Drew to regain control of his irrational fear.
"I, how dare you! I don't even know you!"
"Sorry. It seemed like the only way to get you to be quiet."
"Wow," she exclaimed. "Wow, you're an asshole."
"Sadly, it's not the first time I've heard that."
"I'm sure it won't be the last."
"Likely not."
"I can't believe –"
"Look, Kara, I have severe claustrophobia and that the only way I can deal is with silence and breathing, so would you mind shutting the fuck up for five minutes?"
He felt guilty the second the words left his lips and he saw the look of pain and indignation on her face. Still, he was on the edge and needed to regain control. Kara sat in silence for a few minutes more, pouting.
"You could have just said that from the beginning, you know."
She was absolutely right. "I apologize. I'm sorry I was rude."
The two sat in silence for nearly twenty minutes before Drew's cell phone rang. Kara could see the sweat that began to bead on his forehead before he even hung up.
"Well?"
"He said they're working on it, but it could still be a while." Drew's breathing grew more rapid and he became visibly agitated. Against her better judgment, Kara did the only thing she could think of – she kissed him, slowly and softly. This time Drew was the one left in shock. Kara leaned back again, and Drew just stared at her.
"Hi," she whispered. His eyes caught hers, and their gazes locked.
"Hi."
To be continued…
© J.J. Goodman 2013. All rights reserved.