by Jenna Gunn
She’s shaking. The woman with nerves of steel is scared out of her mind. I’ve never seen her upset like this. “Do you have some fear of elevators I don’t know about?”
Her blonde hair bobs as she nods her answer against my chest. “I’m fine as long as I’m not stuck in them.”
“We should try to call someone.”
She reaches for her purse, then her hand stalls, “My phone is in the car.”
I groan. “Well, I’m not much help either. Mine is in the console of the truck.”
I look around for the elevator phone. Leaning back, I pop the little door open and pull down the handset. It’s supposed to ring automatically. There is no sound on the other end. “Hello. Hello.” Nothing.
I stretch over and push a few of the buttons in the phone cabinet and get no results. I put the receiver back and shut the door. “Nothing here.”
“Don’t you think someone will notice and call for help.”
“Sure. Sooner or later,” I grumble. “When the dinner hour hits, I’m sure someone will be mad, the elevator isn’t working.”
She groans, buries her face deeper into my chest. “I’m going to be late for my interview."
That’s when it hits me. The smell of her—that delicious mix of wild woman and lavender shampoo. It drops a shot of testosterone the size of a bowling ball right into my groin.
Oh, hell no. This is not happening.
I’m supposed to be mad at her. I’m supposed to fucking run like a wild animal away from this witch.
But here I am, butt to nut, with her wrapped up in my arms, with my body doing all the thinking because my brain sure as hell isn’t.
I try like hell to ignore the buzzing in my veins that threatens to turn me into a raving lunatic.
Something needs to happen fast. Either we better get rescued, or we better have an argument, or something to turn this train around because I’m like a ticking time bomb.
It’s T-minus two minutes til I kiss the shit out of her and regret it for the rest of my life.
The elevator groans again. Really loud this time.
She clams up. Honestly, I do too. Idle chit chat isn’t covering up the concern that’s growing by the minute. Something’s very wrong.
Suddenly we’re plunged into darkness. Not even an emergency light. She whimpers, “Kill me now. Go ahead— I’m going to have a heart attack.”
I chuckle. “It’s just the dark. I know you’re not afraid of the dark.”
“This is not just the dark. This is in the pitch dark, suspended three floors above the ground, in an elevator that’s possessed.”
“Pretend you’re somewhere else.”
She giggles then, and I get a rush of goosebumps as I recall the sound from a lifetime ago. “What’s funny?”
“I just remembered when we were in that cabin in Mammoth and all the power went out. Remember that?”
“Yep, I do. I think I had to crawl to the kitchen to find the emergency candles.”
“That was a fun weekend.” She murmurs.
A long silence stretches between us. “Yeah.” I admit.
She burrows around, getting comfortable against me.
Her slender fingers dance along my jawline, then she’s cupping my face in her cool hands. “In case we die, I need to do this.”
I’m too stunned to move when she touches her mouth to me.
For a second, I’m lost in her. The familiar sweet flavor of her mouth melts my brain.
When she pulls back, I get mental whiplash. I nearly snap all my teeth off before I manage to grit out. “Why are you here?”
Chapter Two
Bishop’s harsh words snap me back to my senses. Oh, God. I just kissed him. I’m such an idiot.
Now all I can do is think about how much I want his touch. But when he finds out why I’m really here, he’ll never touch me again.
I shift, my body suddenly stiff in his arms. “A job interview.”
He chuckles, “Circus coming to town?”
I gasp, “What is it with everyone today?”
Suddenly loud banging interrupts us. Bang! Bang! Bang! A hollow voice echoes in the elevator shaft above us. “Anyone in there?”
“Yeah!” Bishop shouts, “Two of us.”
“Help is on the way!” A man yells back.
We hear several seconds of creaking, banging, and then what sounds like an elevator door sliding open. “We’re up above. If you can get on top of the elevator, we can lift you up to the third floor.”
I yell, “As in climb out the top of the elevator?”
“This sounds right up your alley,” Bishop quips. “Come on, I’ll boost you up.”
We stand. His big hands wrap around my hips in such a familiar way. He lifts me right up like I’m a dandelion puff.
I wiggle myself around until I’m setting on the thick muscles of his shoulder. I seem to remember us doing this before, but not in the pitch dark. But I sure as heck had my legs over his shoulders plenty in the dark for other reasons.
I have not forgotten all the pleasure this man has given me.
Bishop gets my mind back on track. “Feel around. I remember seeing the door in this area here.”
I skim my hands across the ceiling as I feel for the hatch. Bishop moves me around slowly.
“It’s dark as hell in here.” I complain. “Hold it. Wait. Right there.”
He steadies me. I found a handle. Something mechanical clicks above us as I work the latch. I push the hatch upward until it pops open as Bishop holds me up. A flashlight beam cuts into the blackness from above.
I sigh in relief.
“Hell yeah!” Shouts a man from above. “Nice work. Can you get on top of the elevator?”
“Sure,” I call back. “Climbing is not a problem for me. I do it for a living.”
“Want me to boost you up some more?”
“Yeah, but can you reach my purse?”
He wiggles around below me, and I know he’s catching it with his foot. A second later, he presses it into my hand.
“Thanks, now let me stand on your shoulders and I’ll be able to pull right up.”
I twist around. He steadies my bare legs with his big warm hands. I push up, and plant one foot on each of his shoulders. If it wasn’t dark, he would be looking right up my skirt.
“Oh darn, my shoes.”
“I’ll pitch them up once you’re on top.”
The flashlight beam bounces around above me. I scale up on top of the elevator. Bishop throws my shoes through the hole one at a time.
I shove them in my shoulder bag. “Okay, I’m ready.”
A fireman extends a thick arm down to me. I grab his hand and he pulls me right up onto the third floor landing.
I lean back over the opening, the fireman suddenly grabs my arm. “Whoa, darlin’, don’t be falling in there.”
“I’m fine,” I say before I call into the darkness below, “Bishop. There’s no way you’ll fit through that hatch. Your shoulders are way too big. I barely got through.”
He groans. “Great.”
The man beside me chuckles, “Bishop Archer is in there?”
“Yes.”
He grins, “I know him.” The man says. He shouts down into the dark shaft, “Bishop, This is John Warner with Lynn’s Cove Fire Department. What the heck did you do to this elevator? Trying to get stuck with a pretty woman on purpose?”
“Stuff it, John. Just get me out of here!”
John chuckles, “We’re going to lower the elevator down to the floor below. It’s going to take some time. Don’t worry, it can’t fall.”
Bishop yells back, “Alright. I’m fine.”
I feel like a heel doing this, but I’ve got to go. “Bishop, I’ve got to run. I have an interview that I can’t miss.”
“We need to talk!” He yells as I hustle off, trying to drag my shoes from my purse as I go.
I’m a total mess.
Seeing Bishop ruined me. Then kissing him… that put
me six feet under.
My jangled nerves barely manageable, as I straighten my dress. I shake my head. Did that really just happen? Stuck in an elevator with the one man on earth I need to see but dread more than anything in the world. What kind of luck is that?
For some stupid reason tears sting at my throat and push up onto my lashes. Things are such a mess. I’m not a cryer and now’s not the time. I need a job fast. And Lynn’s Cove isn’t a big place.
But I am tired. When I reach this point, I know that my shell gets thin and things get to me far too easily. Traveling across the Atlantic, with three connecting flight, with a two year old wore me down.
Sleeping on Cass’ couch didn’t help matters either. But I’m grateful that I had a place to land until I can get my feet on the ground.
Thank god there’s a bathroom right outside the restaurant. My heels click on the marble floor as I make a beeline for the sink.
I re-twist my hair into a bun. Splash a little water on my face to bring down the pink color. Then I wiggle my small breasts back up into my small push-up bra.
I feel like an idiot.
I might be back in a familiar town, but nothing about what I’m doing is familiar. And apparently I suck at it.
Job interview number one of the day was a resounding fail. It was just a simple receptionist job at an office, but they found my “qualifications lacking.”
The chance of this interview going well is only marginally better. But I’m here. It’s the only other interview I could get. The job section of the newspaper was pretty barren.
The glass door of The Tides swooshes open as I approach. A perfectly coifed hostess welcomes me. I give her my name and she disappears, clicking her black high heels authoritatively across the floor.
A moment later she returns. Her expression is flat as a slab of concrete as she escorts me to a table by the windows. Is Botox required to work here? If so, then I’m a hard no.
“The owner will be with you momentarily.” The woman says in a voice just as flat.
“Thank you,” I mutter to her back as she clicks away.
My eyes drift to the scene outside. The sixth floor view from the restaurant is a stark reminder of why I once loved it here. Deep blue ocean stretches to the horizon. Diamonds of sunlight sparkle off the gently moving surface.
Oh, and there was also this thing called love that made me fall in love with the place too. Bishop Archer in all his muscular sun tanned glory swept me off my feet with his devil may care attitude for the world and hell-bent determination to make me his.
What was meant to be a temporary stop-over turned into a three-year marriage with Bishop. One that taught me how a twin flame can ignite you like gasoline and burn you forever.
“I’m sorry to keep you waiting Ms. Cataldi.”
“It’s not a problem, I was just enjoying the view.”
I suddenly feel really underdressed. The man’s perfectly tailored suit makes my simple gray dress seem like a rag. I bet he paid three thousand dollars for it.
Me, I think I paid thirty, at consignment.
Everything about him is elegant, from the cut of his hair, to the manicured hand that pulls the chair across from me out from under the table. His dark brown eyes hold mine steadily for a moment.
I fight the urge to squirm. I’ve never been elegant. I’m…bold.
And now I know I hate job interviews. Two and I’m ready to never do another.
“I’ve reviewed your resume, and I must say it’s not like the others I usually receive.”
Uh, oh. I figured this was coming. My thumb worries at my fingernail in furious circles.
“What brings someone with your…uh, unusual talents to apply for this job?”
I swallow down the cotton ball that somehow got stuck in my throat. “I just relocated to the area. And, as I am sure you can understand, there aren’t many jobs for acrobats in Lynn’s Cove. I am seeking a new opportunity that will allow me to live and work here.”
He harrumphs. Clears his throat as he slides my resume into a neat leather folio. “What makes you think you can rise to the task of being a server in southern California’s most sought after restaurant?”
I know I’m not the polished person he wants to wait tables in his restaurant, even without the handful of pink braids I tamed into a bun with the rest of my long blonde hair.
This is a lost cause, so I shrug and give the first reply that comes to mind. “I’m good with heights.”
Stuffy butt frowns, but after a few seconds the corner of his mouth tips up in a wry grin. “I appreciate a sharp tongue and a sense of humor. However, I think you might be best suited for working at the Fox Hole gentlemen’s bar.”
My eyes go wide.
The nerve of him. “That’s not a very nice thing to say. I’m a circus performer, not an adult performer.”
He shakes his head. “I’m not sure why I’m doing this, but if you want to come shadow one of my staff for an evening, you can. But you’d have to dye your hair. Set up a day with the hostess if you choose to follow up.”
My mouth snaps shut. And I give him the look he deserves. “My hair is dyed, thank you, very much.”
“A natural color.” He adds as he pushes back from the table. Without another word, he strolls away.
“Pink is a natural color for flowers, I’ll have you know.” I mutter as I pick up my purse and head for the door. I don’t bother scheduling anything with the hostess.
I pass the elevator on the way to the steps wondering if Bishop is still stuck.
I have no clue how long something like that takes.
Regardless, I know we’re on a collision course. As soon as he’s out of that elevator, I’m going to be in firing range for a man that’s going to hate me. He’s going to be nuclear mad.
I’ve been dreading today for… well, for what feels like forever. Since the day I found out I was carrying his baby.
I know Bishop. He’s as determined of a man as there ever has been. And he will demand answers now that I’m back in his reach.
Is he ready for those answers? I’m not sure.
Chapter Three
Twenty minutes later I’m on the lobby phone at the hotel calling my workplace. Bryce, my older brother and boss, answers.
“You won’t believe this, but I was delivering a thank you to The Tides restaurant and I’ve been stuck in an elevator at the Ocean Inn. The fire department had to get me out. I need some time to take care of something. I’ll be back in a bit.”
He’s laughing so hard I’m not sure he hears the last. I hang up. There’s plenty of extra coverage for the beaches today, so me being gone won’t hurt.
I’ve paced one full lap around the lobby when the door opens to the stairwell. Mia spills out, barefoot, shoes in her hand, and a murderous flush to her cheeks.
If she thinks she’s going to cop that attitude on me, she’s got it all wrong.
I intersect her path toward the door and fall in alongside of her snappy bare footsteps. Nothing about Mia is slow, she’s all forward motion, always has been. She’s like this tightly wound ball of muscle that always has to be moving. It’s one of the things that drew me to her.
“We need to talk.”
“You think?” She rips the pins or clip or whatever was holding her hair free. It spills down her back in a wild mix of braids and waves. Part of it is pink of various shades and is mixed with her blond. It’s like everything about Mia is funky and dramatic.
“Mia—”
When her eyes collide with mine, they are full of pain, and maybe some resignation.
Not what I expected at all. Something inside my chest jerks and starts.
Damn it. I hate seeing her hurting, but I know the feeling all too well thanks to her cruel hand.
We walk out of the hotel and she makes a fast bee-line for a small white Nissan car at the end of the lot.
I guess this is what she’s driving now since I sold her Fiat. There was no use keeping it. She was i
n Europe and made it resoundingly clear she had no intention of coming back. “Is this yours?”
“No, it’s borrowed. I just got back from Europe, I don’t have a car yet.”
When we reach it, she sags back against the fender and just looks at me, staring with those pale gray eyes of hers. Her arms fold tightly over her body.
“Mia, you didn’t answer me earlier, what are you doing here?”
Her jaw sets hard for a second, then she says, “I just moved back to Lynn’s Cove.”
Suddenly my gut clenches like a fist is squeezing my insides.
My brain clicks on, starts to fire on all it’s cylinders again, my mad-meter pegs. “What the fuck? Of all the places in the world you could live, you moved here?”
Anger makes me feel steadier, like I’m in familiar territory. I know anger well.
My chest rises and falls faster to meet the increasing demands of my tightening muscles.
She huffs, pushes at her hair. “It’s complicated.”
“Mia. I live here. You know this. There’s a whole goddamn planet for you to live on.”
“I just–“
I shove my hand in my hair. “You what? You want to make me a fucking basket case?”
Her eyes flash at me, wide and almost panicked.
Shit.
Seeing that look reminds me that I need to reign this in. I take a step back. Take another deep breath. Keep your head, Bishop.
Mia presses her lips hard together, her eyes drift away. “No. That’s not my intent.” She finally says.
Pinching the bridge of my nose, I count to ten. Yelling isn’t doing any good, even though it’s all I want to do right now.
One, two, three, four—
“There’s something I need to tell you in addition to the fact that the show closed down. My uncle Vic stole all the money. I had nowhere else to go. Here I have…at least a friend. Cassidy is letting us—”
She clams up suddenly.
I just watch as she fumbles for words all, while her skin grows pale.
I follow her eyes as they watch a car enter the lot. What the hell is going on here?
“Mia—”
The small gray Civic pulls right up to us, and I recognize the face behind the wheel—Cassidy Wilson. She used to be a friend of ours. So this is the friend she mentioned.
