He took a minute, but his response was tepid at best. “That’s a good joke, Ms. Lennox.” He nodded but, in true Patrick form, showed very little emotion. It was as if he’d been an impassive doorman since birth, immune to even her best one-liners. She saw it as a challenge and was determined to break him. And she would one day, damn it. She just needed better jokes.
She glanced at her watch. Strangely, her car was late, which was going to make her late for her eight a.m. at Foster’s. She didn’t do late. It wasn’t in her vocabulary. Especially not when competition was involved. “You’re not going to believe this, Patrick, but I’m off to the subway.”
“Have a good day, Ms. Lennox.”
“You too. Don’t smile too much.”
He tipped his hat as she headed to the corner where she’d hop the C train and hopefully make it to Foster’s on time. She might still be able to make this happen if the train arrived quickly.
In a stroke of fantastic timing, she found herself on the Upper West Side and climbing the steps of the office building with skilled precision for a girl in heels. She was only two minutes late as it stood. Not ideal but totally recoverable.
“Hold the elevator!” she called, but damn it, the doors were closing. “Excuse me, could you—” At the very last minute a hand caught the doors from inside and stopped them from closing. Thank God thoughtful people still existed in the world.
As the doors slowly opened again, her eyes landed on a pair of familiar blue ones. “Thanks,” she said to Brooklyn. “I’m glad I’m not the only one who’s late.”
Brooklyn stared at her for a moment as if trying to assess if the comment was meant for good or evil. “You’re welcome,” she said finally, in a neutral tone, and then promptly shifted her focus to the climbing numbers.
Silence reigned.
Apparently Brooklyn didn’t feel especially talkative this morning. Or friendly in the slightest. She could live with that. It gave her a chance to take a deep breath and regroup for the meeting. As the elevator ascended, she watched the numbers on the electronic window climb. The twenty-second story, the twenty-third, and the twenty-fourth, and then the whole thing shuddered abruptly.
Jessica gripped the metal bar behind her. God, she hated elevators. She exchanged a worried look with Brooklyn, who was kind enough to offer her an encouraging smile as the elevator once again began to move. “We’re all good now. See?” She gestured with her head to the numbers above the door that continued to climb to the forty-second floor.
But Jessica hadn’t released her death grip on the bar behind her, which was a good thing, as the elevator then let out a terrifying screech and ground to an abrupt halt between what seemed to be the thirty-sixth and thirty-seventh floors.
And then nothing.
The sound of the mechanisms, the hum of the climb, the little dinging sounds were all strangely absent, and in their place was a deafening silence. Jessica’s stomach clenched and her vision went white with terror. Because that screeching hadn’t sounded good at all, and now they weren’t moving. Why weren’t they moving? Oh, God, please get her out of this thing.
Brooklyn threw her a glance and began pushing buttons. Still nothing. No lights on the panel, no indication that the elevator was in any way responding. They were totally dead in the water. “I think we’re stuck. I’ll call security.” She opened the emergency box and paused. “There’s no phone in here. Where the hell’s the phone? Isn’t that an elevator requirement?”
Jessica opened her mouth to respond, but she was having difficulty forming any words. She’d always had an aversion to small spaces, but with elevators, it had always been a mind-over-matter kind of thing. They were a necessary evil in New York that she’d simply learned to live with. But being stuck in one was her worst nightmare come to fruition.
Brooklyn slid a concerned look her way. “You okay over there? It’s not a big deal. We’re just momentarily paused.”
Jessica nodded.
“Hey, Jess, look at me. You’re white as a sheet. We’re going to be fine.”
“How do you know that?” she finally managed.
“Because elevators hiccup all the time. Look, there’s a call button on the wall.” Brooklyn pushed it and waited. No response. She offered Jessica a nervous smile and tried the button again. Same result. “Okay. Not a problem. I have my phone with me. Brooklyn dialed and put the phone to her ear, only to pause and glance at the screen a few moments later. “Check your phone. Do you have a signal?”
Jessica pulled her phone from her bag and, thank the stars above, there was hope! “One bar.” She dialed 911 and waited until a voice, a glorious, magical voice from outside of the elevator answered her.
“911. What’s your emergency?”
“We’re trapped in an elevator and aren’t able to contact anyone in the building.”
“Ma’am, what is your—”
But the operator’s voice cut out and the signal dropped. Jessica stared at the phone. “Damn it. I lost her.” She tried the call again but it didn’t go through.
“That’s okay,” Brooklyn pointed out. “They can trace the call, and now they know we’re here. It’s only a matter of time before they arrive and have us out.”
Jessica nodded, trying to reason with the part of her mind that wasn’t totally freaking out. “Right. I’m sure you’re right. I just, uh, don’t do so great in small spaces.” She flexed her hands and clenched them into fists.
Brooklyn’s mouth formed a small O as she took in the information, then seemed to regroup, brightening. “But this isn’t so small, and it’s just the two of us in here. Not at all crowded. Lots of room to walk.”
“Thanks, but it is. Small, I mean.”
Brooklyn shrugged in concession. “It’s not ideal. You’re right. But it could be worse, there could be—”
The lights flickered above them before failing entirely. The elevator fell into complete and utter darkness.
“No lights?” Jessica couldn’t see a thing. The hand she held in front of her face didn’t exist. Her heart rate tripled and she descended to the floor. “I can’t do this. I can’t.” She heard movement to her right as Brooklyn crawled the distance between them until she was sitting next to her.
“Yes, you can. I’m right here, and I’m going to get you through this.” Brooklyn’s hand found hers and held on. The warmth of it was comforting.
“Wanna hear a joke?” Brooklyn asked.
“How did you know I like jokes?”
“I didn’t. But I’m filing it away. Wanna hear one?”
“Um. No, I don’t think so.”
“What do you call a person with no body and no nose?” A pause. “Nobody knows.”
“Okay. That was horrible.” But Jessica felt the fleeting smile across her face. Maybe she could tell it to Patrick.
“It was. It’s a truly god-awful joke, but it’s all we’ve got, that joke.”
Jessica laughed at the lunacy of the comment, and along with that laugh, she felt a little of the fear fall away. “How long do you think it’s been?”
“Not long. Maybe five minutes.”
“That’s it?”
Brooklyn squeezed her hand. “Try not to think about it.”
“Tall order.”
They sat in silence for what seemed like forever, but with Brooklyn’s hand in hers she somehow felt safe, which was crazy because they were anything but. Hell, they were more than thirty stories in the air, capable of plunging to their deaths any time the elevator lost its grip. Yet, all she seemed to be able to concentrate on was the rich vanilla scent of Brooklyn’s hair.
“What were you like as a kid?” she finally asked, breaking the silence that hung between them.
She felt Brooklyn shift next to her. “Me? I was quiet. Kind of moody. Pretty much closed off.”
Jessica didn’t love the answer and pressed on, looking for something brighter in Brooklyn’s life. “What subject were you good at in school?”
“Surprisin
gly, science. I won the fifth-grade science fair and took all honors science courses in high school.”
“Wow. You were good at science. Yet you work in advertising.”
Brooklyn laughed. “It all goes together.”
“Did you have friends?”
“Sometimes. I had a best friend when I was seven. Her name was Ziann, and she lived with the same foster family I did. We’d play all sorts of make-believe games together. She looked out for me. Would stroke my hair when I cried, that kind of thing.” She took a moment. Jessica couldn’t see her face, but she imagined she was lost in the memory. “I’d never had a friend like her before.”
“Are you still in touch?”
Brooklyn pulled her hand away, and Jessica knew they’d ventured into uncomfortable territory. “No. The woman we lived with caught her sneaking food one night and knocked her around pretty good. I tried to stop her but…”
“But what?”
“A few well-placed fists and I backed down. I’d never been punched in the stomach before. It took the wind out of me. I was too scared to fight back after that.”
“Oh, my God. What happened?”
“Ziann was taken to the hospital and I was removed from the house.”
Jessica was shocked almost to the point of not knowing what to say. “Was she okay?”
Brooklyn was quiet for a moment. “I don’t really know. I never saw her again. I asked about her, but no one seemed to have answers. Or maybe they just didn’t want to tell me the truth. I didn’t let myself make too many friends after that.”
Jessica’s heart fell at the concept of a seven-year-old Brooklyn alone and missing her only friend. On one hand, she felt guilty for bringing up what must have been a horrific memory for her. But on the other, something within her wanted to know more about this woman next to her.
Brooklyn was embarrassed. She wasn’t sure why she’d shared so much with Jessica, yet again. Maybe it was her proximity. Or the fact that she had been holding Brooklyn’s hand. But probably, it was the anonymity of the darkness around them that made it easier to go there. Not having to see the inevitable sympathetic look decreased the emotional risk. Still, she decided to change the subject. “What were you like as a child? You know, little Jessica racing around in a miniature business suit and heels.”
Jessica laughed. “Pretty tame, actually. I was really into homework.”
“Shocking.”
“Don’t make fun of me. I’m sensitive.”
Brooklyn laughed. “That’s not at all true, and you know it.”
“You’re right. But still.”
“Get back to it, Lennox. What else?”
She heard Jessica blow out a conciliatory breath. “Ballet was a big part of my life when I was a kid. I was really into it.”
“Ohhh, now we’re getting somewhere. How much into?”
“I was good. Really good.”
“So why didn’t you pursue ballet over business? Turn yourself into a prima ballerina?” The idea of Jessica’s sleek frame in a leotard was carrying her mind places already. It was a great visual. But when she thought about it, the dance thing made sense. Jessica moved with an inherent grace, an elegance that not many people were able to pull off.
“Too much risk involved. I wasn’t the type who was willing to starve for my art and wait tables until the next big audition came along.”
“So stability is important to you?”
“It’s everything to me.” It had been a quick answer, and that said a lot.
Brooklyn nodded, understanding a little bit more about what made Jessica tick.
“Plus, my cousin’s the real dancer. We used to take classes together growing up in Boston. She wowed our teachers every step of the way.”
“Where’d she end up?”
“She’s currently dancing the lead in a Broadway show actually, Elevation. Have you heard of it?”
Brooklyn was shocked. “I’ve seen it. She’s amazing. I had no idea.”
“Why would you?”
They didn’t talk for a little while. But it was a comfortable silence. And even though Jessica seemed calmer now, more in control of her fear, Brooklyn stayed next to her, shoulder to shoulder.
You know, just in case.
It was around half an hour later when the emergency lights at the top of the elevator popped on. Thank God. That had to be a good sign. Brooklyn stood because some sort of reaction seemed appropriate. “That’s promising, don’t you think?”
Jessica looked up at her with a weary smile. “It’s progress, I guess.”
As a preventative measure, Brooklyn pulled her inhaler from her bag and took a few puffs.
“Are you all right? Is there enough air in here?” Jessica asked.
Brooklyn smiled. “I’m fine. Sometimes I just need a little help in the breathing department. Nothing major.”
“Hello, can you hear me?” came a voice from a speaker on the wall panel.
“Whoa.” Brooklyn pushed the button to answer him. “Yes! We hear you,” she practically shouted.
“Is everyone in the elevator all right?”
“We’re okay. Just completely stuck and ready to get out of here.”
“How many people are with you?”
“There’s just two of us,” she said, meeting Jessica’s eyes.
“I apologize for the inconvenience. Maintenance is here and they’re working on the problem. Sorry for the disruption in your day.”
Jessica was up alongside Brooklyn and pushing the button. “How long?”
A pause. “We’re working as fast as we can, but we’ve had to call out for a part. It’s on its way. Could be an hour or two.”
They exchanged a look. Jessica pressed the button with purpose this time, clearly in high-powered business mode. “Not acceptable. Call whomever the hell you have to and get it here faster. There’s an asthmatic woman in here.”
There was a pause before the voice answered. “We’re doing everything we can, ma’am.”
As Jessica shook her head and moved to press the button again, Brooklyn placed a hand on her arm. “Hey, look at me. They’re on our side.”
Their eyes met, and something in Jessica seemed to soften. “You’re right. Of course, you’re right.” They sat back on the floor, opposite sides of the elevator this time. It was a given that they’d each missed their appointment with Foster, but it was starting to look like the rest of the morning would be shot as well. “Did you have anything pressing to take care of?”
Jessica shook her head. “Two in-house meetings and a client call this afternoon. Not to mention the mountains of work I need to tackle in between. You?”
“Just our regular weekly staff meeting. We bring in lunch and catch each other up on where we are with various clients. It’s kind of a check-in.”
“I know your firm’s not big, but how many of you are there?”
Brooklyn smiled defensively as Jessica’s tone seemed laced with judgment. “Four of us, and we’re capable of a lot.”
“Of course. I didn’t mean to insinuate otherwise. Just curious. How’d you end up working at Savvy?” Jessica finally asked.
“We were best friends in school. Mallory, Hunter, Samantha, and I. We started working together in college on a small scale for the LGBT center on campus, and there was this synergy there I just can’t explain. We knew we could do great things together.”
“Tell me about them, your best friends.”
“Well, you already know a little bit about Mallory. She’s pretty much in charge of the world. She’s organized, driven, and polished. Oh, and an obsessive list-maker. It’s kind of mind-blowing, the number of lists she juggles. The great thing about her, though, is that in the midst of all that, she has the biggest heart. Not a lot of people realize that about her. She’d give a stranger the sweater off her back if they needed it.”
“That’s good information, you know, in case I’m ever cold.”
“You’re hysterical.”
“Yeah, but I have to work at it. What about Samantha?”
“Right. Well, Sam is a money genius. She consistently amazes me with the way she cobbles together budgets for even the most meager of clients and stretches each dollar we have. She’s probably the most pragmatic one in the group. And also the voice of reason to my crazy, more often than not. In case you haven’t figured it out, I tend to be kind of a handful. Reckless even, and Samantha helps keep me in check. Oh, and we live together, so there’s that.”
“Let me guess. You’re the messy one.”
“Did she call you? It’s important you know she lies.”
Jessica gave her the sideways grin that showed her dimples. She liked the sideways grin. It was a favorite. “Just a hunch. And the fourth?”
“That would be Hunter. Her mother is Hawaiian and her father’s from Rhode Island, so she has this exotic, beautiful thing happening. As a result, women and men alike throw themselves at her. For that reason, she’s kind of a player. I don’t like going out with her because it’s pretty much ordained that she gets all the attention. Oh, but for Savvy she handles all of the graphic-design elements. She’s a whiz on a computer, so we forgive the fact that she’s late everywhere and pretty much does whatever the hell she wants at whatever time she wants to do it.”
“Very interesting. Four lesbians working together in close quarters.”
Brooklyn held up a finger. “Not exactly. Samantha is bisexual. She keeps her options open.”
Jessica nodded. “Got it. So have any of you ever crossed the lines of friendship? It seems like it would happen somewhere along the way.”
“Are you asking if there’s been any scandalous interoffice romance in our history?”
“It did occur to me when I saw you with Mallory.”
“No. Absolutely not. It’s actually kind of a pact we made when we started the company.” Jessica gave her a long look. “Okay, it’s possible I made out with Sam our junior year, but it was like kissing my sister, and it never happened again by mutual conclusion. Total disaster.”
“Aha. Busted.”
Brooklyn couldn’t help but smile at the look of triumph on Jessica’s face. She relaxed back against the wall. “I like it when you’re playful.”
Kiss the Girl Page 8
