Going Down: The Elevator Series (9 page)

“Fantastic! I’m getting settled, in and I’m ready to get to work.”

“Well, I know we’re excited to have you on the team as well. Right?” Maggie kicked me under the table.

“Totally.”
I sound like a high surfer. This lunch could not end soon enough.

I felt the weight of Maggie’s stare pushing against my forehead, but I really needed to focus on the nonexistent smudge. She reluctantly caved again. “I know I can speak for Cici when I say we’re so happy to have you at Grantham. I saw you’ve worked for a couple of smaller firms since graduating. It seems like we’re all in the same boat and advancing to the big leagues now.”

I saw my opportunity and took it. I couldn’t let it go that he glossed over going to one of the most prestigious universities in the country. “Cole, Maggie tells me you graduated from Yale. What was it like to attend such a quaint local Connecticut school?” I asked, echoing his words from last night. Sugar would melt in the presence of the sweet, innocent smile plastered on my face.

He choked on his water briefly. “Well, my dad has been a professor there for as long as I can remember, so it’s really just another school to me. They have a great business department, so it was a good fit.”

“So, then you probably wouldn’t even think to mention your Ivy League pedigree to someone if you were getting to know them? You would just gloss right over that part?”

“I suppose it’s something I would mention in the context of an interview, but not really during a dating scenario, for example.” A less perceptive person might not notice his clenched jaw. As it were, I was hyperaware of everything happening in the general area between his hair and the soles of his feet. “My alma mater has little to do with the substance of my character, Ms. Carrington.”

I nodded. It was possible I was being a skosh touchy about Cole having a better résumé than me. “Fair point, well made, Mr. Danvers.”

Before we could launch into another topic, the breadbasket was delivered by our much-deflated waitress. She took our orders and trudged back to the kitchen.

“I think you broke her.” Sometimes Maggie made people wish their dads had pulled out.

“I think so, too,” she answered, a bit chastened. “The only way to fix this is to let her marry Cole.” She looked at him apologetically. “I’m sorry, but you’re going to have to take one for the team.”

Cole looked equal parts confused and scared. “I only took one mediation class in school, but I feel confident there is some middle ground between here and marriage.”

Maggie shook her head. “No, immediate nuptials are the only answer. I’ll need your guest list by the end of the day.”

Normally I would be playing right along with Maggie, but I was busy wolfing down bread at an alarming speed. It had been more than twenty-four hours since I’d had anything resembling a meal. Anyway, the carbs displaced the slight jealousy I felt watching the easy banter between them.

I wasn’t certain how I should act around Cole. I had a mental picture of a Venn diagram with three interlocking circles labeled “Boss,” “Lover,” and “Cole Danvers Fan Club President” all converging with “Me” in the center. I’d like to continue to be all of those things, but I didn’t have the slightest clue as to how to navigate that minefield.

My thoughts were interrupted by Cole’s betrothed returning with our plates. My missing silverware was in the mix as well. As she placed Cole’s plate in front of him, she looked him earnestly in the eyes and said, “It never would’ve worked between us. We were only fooling ourselves.” She put her hand on his cheek. “I wish you the best.” Before he could respond, she was two tables over, helping a good-looking man in a gray suit adjust the napkin in his lap.

“Did I just get dumped? Is that what happened here?” He looked back and forth between Maggie and me.

“It’s a good thing I haven’t bought my bridesmaid dress yet,” Maggie stuffed a bite of food in her mouth.

“I’m a little offended,” Cole said, mostly to himself.

Maggie patted his hand. “It’s okay. We’ll get you some ice cream. Ice cream is always the answer to a breakup. I was kind of hoping you two crazy kids would work out, but there are other fish in the sea.”

“Is it too soon to ask for bereavement leave?” Cole winked.

It was almost surreal to watch someone fit so easily into the type of silly repartee Maggie and I had used for years. In the past, my boyfriends—despite being few and far between—didn’t know what to make of Maggie. She could be a lot to handle, even for me, and they just couldn’t keep up. Yet, here sat a man who seemed too good to be real, and he laughed alongside my best friend as if they’d known each other for ages. I wanted to laugh with them and steal bites of Cole’s pasta when he wasn’t looking. I wanted to gush to my closest girlfriend about meeting the most amazing man, and for once in my life, forget about the rules and go with the flow. Instead, I was having a silent pity party over some delicious chicken Alfredo.

I wasn’t sure how long I was lost in my head, but Cole nudged my arm and brought me back to the present. It amazed me how readily my body responded to him, as if it knew him before we even met. His touch quieted my crazy head for a while. It was unexpected, yet welcome. The smile on my face mirrored his own.

“Cecile Alexis Carrington!” I jumped a couple of inches in my chair. My body responded to Maggie, too, but in an entirely different manner. “Come back to earth. I’ve said your name three times!”

“Sorry, I guess I got lost in thought.”

“It’s that time of the meal when the ladies’ have to take an obligatory bathroom break together. Hop up. Cole, I’m leaving the company card right here in case our love-struck waitress returns with the check.”

I pulled my napkin out of my lap and stood. “Have I ever told you that you can be a tad bossy, Maggie?”

“You wouldn’t dare say that to your best friend.” She looked at Cole. “We’ll be back as soon as we’re done talking about you in the ladies’ room. I respect you too much to fabricate a cover story.”

I barely heard him say, “Well, all right, then.” Maggie hooked my arm in hers and led me toward the back of the restaurant.

The restroom door hadn’t even closed before she rounded on me. “I know you’re hiding something; I’m not a complete idiot.”

“Let’s not be too hasty.” I suppressed my smile.

Maggie rolled her eyes. “I walked right into that one. Nevertheless, I know you’re not telling me something, but I also know you’re not ready to spill the beans on whatever it is. I’ve known you for a long time, Cici, and if there’s anything I’m certain about, it’s that you’ll think something to death before you act on it. I see your wheels turning up there. I’m here to listen whenever you’re ready. Until then, give that tiny brain of yours a break. Life is going to seem really long if you don’t learn to relax a little and enjoy the ride.”

She wasn’t wrong. The one time I disengaged my critical thinking skills had yielded some amazing results. I only needed to figure out how I was going to have my cake and eat it too, because I really, really wanted to eat that cake. I wanted to eat the heck out of that cake.

I put my arm around her shoulders. “I’m not too proud to admit you might be onto something. I can only promise that I’ll try to ease up on the overthinking. Thank you for always supplying an ass kicking when I need one. Are you ready to go back to our table?”

She shook her head. “Not yet. I promised we’d talk about Cole, and I always keep my word.”

Perfect. This was exactly the topic I’ve been trying to avoid.

“Tell me what you think of him.” She reapplied her lipstick in the mirror. “I know I should’ve consulted you before I interviewed him, but it all happened so fast. I knew another firm would scoop him up in a heartbeat if I didn’t make him an offer. He’s going to make a great assistant for you. I just had a feeling about him, you know?”

Oh, I know, all right.

“Well, I haven’t really had much time to talk to him today.”
That isn’t a complete lie.
“But I think he’s going to fit in well with the rest of the office.”

“Me, too.” She elbowed my arm. “Plus, he’s easy on the eyes, so that doesn’t hurt.”

“Maggie!” I pushed her shoulder playfully. “You sound like Cameron. Don’t be crass. He’s not a sex object.”
He’s
my
sex object.

“Oh, please. Cameron was showing his wang to the new hires. I’m just admiring the finely chiseled physique of one. It’s not as if I’m going to mount him in the elevator.”

I felt all the color drain from my face just as a seal-like bark of laughter slipped through my lips.

The rest of the day was fairly uneventful. I managed to keep my hands off my assistant for almost a solid hour after lunch, which was a new personal best. Baby steps.

Cole tapped on my open door as he walked in. “Mind if I come in?”

“Not at all, Mr. Danvers. Please come in for a completely professional meeting between two employees.” I spoke entirely louder than necessary.

The door clicked behind him. “I’m certain that threw everyone off our scent.”

“My stealth skills are second to none.” I stood when he reached my desk. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“First off, hearing you say the word ‘pleasure’ is damn near pornographic, and I’ll need you to start working that into your vocabulary more often. Secondly, I have an odd request.”

“I doubt that. I’m redefining
odd
on an hourly basis.” I grabbed ahold of his hand. Odd was being this close to him and not being in contact.

“Well, I know I already
know
you in the biblical sense… and we’re apparently going to be seeing quite a bit of each other during the week.” Cole seemed flustered for once. “I was wondering if… um… I could have your phone number.”

I covered my mouth to stifle the laugh. “Could we possibly do things any more out of order?” I snatched my phone off my desk and handed it to him. “Want to trade?” He let out a breath as if he hadn’t been certain of my answer. I added myself to his contacts list and passed his phone back.

Upon receiving mine back, I flipped to the Cs in my list. I looked twice but there was no Cole. I glanced up to him in askance, but before I could even pose the question, he answered, “I’m under Elevator Sex God.”

I don’t think I’ve ever chortled so hard in my life, but I did right then and there. “My very own deity. Your humility is awe-inspiring. Should I bow or curtsey?”

He placed his hand under my jaw. “I’d prefer to have you kneeling if I had my druthers, but this is neither the time nor the place.”

My panties just turned to ash. I like playful Cole.

I pulled his hand to my mouth and sucked his index finger in ever so briefly. “What could I possibly do on my knees, Mr. Danvers?”

The hard copies of the Happy Bear Bubble Bath marketing campaign hit the floor before I finished batting my lashes. His need was palpable in his kiss as he laid me across my desk. He slid his right hand slid down my body, grabbed my leg, and hitched it over his hip. He pulled away to look at me. “Do me a favor tomorrow.”

“Anything.” He could’ve asked me to help him hide a body at that point, and I wouldn’t have hesitated.

“Please wear a skirt tomorrow.”

“Okay, but we have to keep our hands off each other. This is so wrong. So very wrong.” I pulled his head back down to mine and pushed my tongue past his lips. I fisted the back of his shirt, trying to draw him as close as possible. I pulled my right leg up around his hip as well.

His mouth moved across my jaw and down my neck. “I can’t get enough of you, Cici.” He cupped my breast through my shirt. “What are you doing tonight?”

“I’m planning to heat up a Hot Pocket and pet my cat.”
My brain lets my mouth say the stupidest things.

“God, I hope that’s a euphemism. Can I call you tonight after I get home? I’m meeting friends for a makeup dinner since I missed last night.” He resumed kissing down the side of my neck.

“I look forward to it, Elevator Sex God.”

***

As much as I wanted to stay all day and make out with Cole like a teenager, I was beat from lack of sleep. I didn’t even have my key out of the lock before Leroy continued meowing his list of grievances right where he’d left off this morning. I filled his bowl, giving him a side of the special occasion smelly wet food as penance for not coming home the night before. My Hot Pocket looked about as appetizing as Leroy’s meal, but I was too tired for anything else. I would have to start a healthier diet. Next week. For sure this time.

I changed into my pajamas and curled up on my tiny couch. My apartment was microscopic, but I had grown too attached to upgrade to something roomier. Maggie hated it. She always said my home should be bigger than my handbag. I would joke that if I bought a larger place, then I’d be forced to buy a bigger purse. This was the apartment I bought with the savings from my first real job. I’d climbed a few rungs up the corporate ladder since then, but I liked this little reminder of how far I’d come.

I didn’t realize I’d nodded off until I was awoken to the chorus of “I Touch Myself” by Divinyls.

What in the actual…

I sat up quickly, discovering I’d fallen asleep on the couch with half a Hot Pocket stuck to my shirt.
Dammit.

“Hello?” I answered, still groggy.

“I’m so sorry. Did I wake you? We can talk in the morning if you prefer.”

Cole.

“No, no. I mean, yes you woke me, but I—wait, did you pick a custom ring tone on my phone?”

“I did.”

My mind was still moving sluggishly. “I don’t even own that Divinyls song.”

“I downloaded it for you.” His tone was very matter of fact.

“You own me a buck twenty-nine, mister.”

“Put it on my tab,” he countered. “How are you this evening?”

I got up, holding the phone between my shoulder and ear, and headed for the sink to scrub the marinara square off my top. “I’m quite well, thank you. Though, I’m a little tired. This new guy started at work today, and he’s a real slave driver. He gave me quite a pounding.”