Shaft

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Shaft Page 7

by Krista Gold


  I fold my arms tighter, as if by doing so I can hold in my emotions.

  The funny thing is, I’d have sworn that Nate was as swept up in what we just did as I was. The way he looked at me...as if he wanted to devour me and keep me safe all at once. I’ve had one night stands before, and they were nothing like this. The sex was never anything to write home about, it was always just two people feeling horny and trying to scratch an itch. There was no attention to detail; no vested interest in pleasing the other person.

  It was different with Nate. I got the impression that he wanted to take his time with me; that he wanted to satisfy my urges almost more than he wanted to satisfy his own. It wasn’t like being with a stranger. I’d felt...cherished.

  Maybe he just prides himself on being an excellent lover , my subconscious offers glumly. Or maybe he just acted the way he thought you wanted him to act so that he could get what he wanted.

  I cringe at the thought that I could have been so gullible. So easily seduced.

  I know there are men like that out there. Men who can smooth talk their way into a woman’s panties in five minutes flat and have her convinced that it’s more than a hook up before walking out of her life forever. But I hadn’t gotten that vibe from Nate. He’d seemed utterly genuine. Utterly invested.

  Honey, my subconscious says wryly, they all do.

  I shake my head to clear the whirling jumble of my thoughts. I may not be sure of Nate, but I’m sure of one thing, and that’s that I’m walking out of this elevator with my head held high.

  I may have acted out of character. I may have imagined the connection between us. But I don’t regret what we did. How could I?

  For half an hour, I felt like the luckiest girl in the world.

  Chapter Thirty

  Nate

  Allie is motionless, her eyes still closed. After daring a few peeks in which she remains in exactly the same position, I let my eyes rove over her face, drinking in every lovely detail.

  I feel a sudden wave of contrition for all the women I’ve fucked and then never called; fucked and then told It’s not you, it’s me; fucked and then left in a bar, a hotel room, the back of a cab.

  This is my first time on the other side of the fence, and I have to admit: it feels pretty shitty.

  After twenty-eight years, I’d thought that either there was something wrong with my wiring, or else other people were exaggerating when they said they felt a spark, or tingles, or an instant connection. If I hadn’t felt it so far, it seemed pretty unlikely I ever would. And I was fine with that. I was happy. Am happy. Who wouldn’t be in my position? I live in an expensive apartment overlooking Central Park, my job is both satisfying and well-paid, and I have a different beautiful woman for every night of the week...more if I want.

  So why, since meeting Allie, do I have the nagging feeling that something important is missing?

  I give myself a shake, let out a small cough of embarrassment. Jesus. What is wrong with me? An hour in an elevator, some good sex – ok, amazing sex – and I’m giving a quick hook-up way more gravity than it actually deserves. Imagining it’s something more than it is. Picking holes in the rich tapestry of my life.

  The reality is that Allie is no-one. She’s nothing to me. I walked in here not knowing she existed; I can walk out of here pretending the same.

  I drag my eyes from her face, lean back and rest my head against the wall. The atmosphere in the elevator feels as thick as treacle. I imagine my thoughts as blowflies, buzzing above the syrupy silence that lies heavy between us. I search for something to say that strikes the right note – casual but warm, not too familiar but not too distant either – and come up empty-handed. I allow myself a wry smile at the irony. The man who is used to confidently addressing boardrooms, and hundreds of rows of conference delegates, the man who can smooth-talk his way in and out of any situation, has been rendered mute by a beautiful woman; who’d have thought it?

  I sneak another glance at Allie. No matter how I try to distance myself, I’m drawn back to her. It’s like she’s a magnet, and my eyes are made up of iron filings. The pull is irresistible.

  I start as I realize Allie’s eyes are open and she’s looking directly at me. As I watch, her cheeks color, and she looks down, her lashes grazing her cheeks in a way that makes my breath catch.

  I open my mouth to say something – anything – but just then there is a loud clang above us. The sound of metal on metal; distant voices.

  A stab of disappointment twists in my gut.

  The Fire Department has arrived.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Allie

  My stomach churns with mixed feelings as I hear the sudden banging of boots and equipment. On the one hand, I’m flooded with relief at the thought of rescue. I want out of this awkward silence, out of these wet clothes and discomfort. On the other...I hate to admit it but there’s a definite pang at the thought of being separated from Nate.

  Once we’re out of this little bubble, who knows if I’ll ever see him again? Even if I get the job I’m here to interview for – and the universe seems to be signalling pretty loud and clear that that’s not meant to be – who’s to say I’d even run into Nate again? Hart Enterprises is a huge company, with two enormous offices in New York alone. And, I realize glumly, even if we did run into each other, it’s only going to be awkward for both of us.

  I shudder as I imagine having to make small talk at the coffee machine, all the while being hyper-aware that this man has had my nipples in his mouth, has licked and lapped and sucked at my darkest and most intimate places.

  What happened with Nate was amazing, but I have to accept it was a one-off. I get the distinct feeling that he does this kind of thing a lot – and that’s great, good for him, but I want more than that. If my experience with Sean taught me anything, it’s that I’m ready to settle down with someone who wants me. Who leaves me Post-Its on the fridge, or buys me flowers just-because. Who wants to kiss me in public, who’s proud to call me his.

  I don’t regret my experience with Nate, but there’s no point hoping for more. It was what it was.

  A man’s voice echoes suddenly down the elevator shaft.

  “You folks ok in there?”

  I open my mouth to reply, but Nate is quicker. “We’re fine,” he shouts back. “How long till you can get us out of here?”

  “We’re working on that, Sir, but it shouldn’t be too long,” comes the disembodied voice. “My name’s Bill, and we’re going to do everything we can to get you out of there just as soon as we can, ok?”

  “That would be great. Thanks, Bill.”

  The clanging sounds resume. Nate and I glance at each other again, and he shrugs. “I guess we wait,” he says, and I smile politely.

  “I guess we do.”

  A grinding, grating noise begins to sound, followed by various muffled shouts.

  “I hope you can rearrange your meeting,” Nate says, checking his watch. I shrug, as if it doesn’t matter to me either way. As if I hadn’t been desperate to work for Hart Enterprises up until little more than an hour ago.

  “I’m sure it will work out one way or another,” I say noncommittally.

  Another grinding sound, and then the shriek of metal on metal, a loud clang, and the elevator doors begin to open. They’re not sliding open as they normally would; instead, they’re being slowly pulled apart by gloved hands, two pairs on each door. We’re obviously between floors; half of what I can see in the opening doors is the brickwork of the elevator shaft, and half is the gloomy office floor above us.

  As I watch, two feet appear in front of me at roughly chest height, and then a figure squats to peer in. It’s a middle aged man in yellow fire-fighting gear and a name tag that identifies him as the eponymous Bill. He has a ruddy face, greying hair, and blue eyes that twinkle as though someone’s just told him a good joke. He grins when he sees us.

  “Hey down there!” he says cheerily. “All ok?” Nate and I both nod. “The power
’s still out, so we can’t get the elevator moving just yet. We’re going to reach down and pull you out of there instead, alright?”

  “Is that safe?” My voice sounds nervous, probably because I’m imagining the elevator dropping when I’m half in half out, cleaving me neatly in half like a paper doll snipped at the waist.

  “Quite safe, ma’am,” Bill smiles. “What’s your name?”

  “Allie,” I tell him shakily, and Bill smiles in reassurance. He has a kind face, and I like him immediately; he reminds me of my Uncle Doug, who was always the “fun uncle” when I was a little girl, and who even now pretends to find a coin behind my ear whenever I see him.

  “We’ve braced the elevator, Allie, so it’s not going anywhere, ok?”

  “Ok,” I say in a small voice.

  Bill looks at Nate. “Sir?”

  “Nate,” says Nate, sounding confident and calm.

  “Nate,” repeats Bill. “I’m going to ask you to help Allie up, ok? If you can support her legs when she reaches up, and we’ll pull her out. Then we’ll reach down for you. Ok?”

  “No problem.”

  “OK, Allie,” says Bill. “You want to pass up your bag, and anything else you have with you?”

  I pick up my purse, and hand it up to Bill as requested, and then another fireman appears next to Bill.

  I move to the doors, and Nate steps up behind me. I catch his scent, and before I realize what I’m doing, I inhale deeply.

  “Don’t worry,” Nate says softly. He squats, and I feel his hands lightly cup my ankles. A current of electricity zips through my body, and I shiver.

  Bill and the other fireman reach down, and each takes hold of one of my hands.

  “You ready?” Bill asks, and I nod. “Ok: one, two, three.”

  The firemen pull, and Nate lifts, and I’m airborne for what feels like a blink. And then I’m out; on my knees on the plush carpet of a long hallway.

  Bill helps me to my feet. “You ok?” he asks again, and I nod. “Alright,” he says, and his face crinkles in a smile. “We’re just going to get you checked over by a paramedic to make sure of that.”

  “Really,” I say, “I’m fine. I just want to get home so I can get out of these wet clothes.”

  “I’m sure you do,” says Bill firmly but kindly. “But I still want you checked over. We can warm you up a bit at least.” He glances over my shoulder. “Jeff – can you give Allie a quick check up please? She insists she’s fine but I think she could at least do with a hot drink.”

  “Sure thing.” I turn to see a paramedic waiting for me with a foil blanket. “Not what you had you had planned for your morning, huh?”

  “Not even close,” I tell him ruefully, allowing him to wrap the foil around my shoulders. I allow him to lead me over to a chair, where he checks my pulse and then wraps a cuff around my arm to check my blood pressure. I look over to where Bill is helping Nate to his feet, having just hauled him out of the elevator. A pretty female paramedic wraps him in a foil blanket that matches mine, and then puts her arm around him to lead him over to where I’m sitting. I look quickly away, feeling a twinge of jealousy which deepens as I hear her tinkling laugh in response to something Nate has said.

  He really does do this a lot , I think crossly. He’s clearly a seasoned flirt.

  “Hm,” says Jeff with a slight frown. “Your blood pressure’s a little on the high side, but I don’t think that’s anything to worry about given the situation.”

  “Jeff,” I sigh. “You have no idea.” I sneak a quick glance at Nate, who is having his own vitals checked. Jeff catches the look and grins.

  “He’s a bit too pretty for my liking, but I can see why he might raise your blood pressure.”

  I blush. “That obvious, huh?”

  “Nah. I’m just very observant,” Jeff says, his eyes twinkling. “So, are you two a thing?”

  “No. We just met in the elevator,” I tell him, my color deepening. Jeff hands me a cup of tea and I hold it gratefully in my hands, letting the warmth seep into my skin.

  “If you don’t mind my saying so, you seem awfully interested in each other for two people who met, what? An hour ago?”

  I glance across at Nate, who is staring back at me, his blue eyes piercing. We both look down and away, embarrassed.

  “Yeah, well...let’s just say I get the impression that he’s not a commitment kind of guy.”

  “Ah. Bit of a playboy, huh?”

  I take another sip of the tea and smile ruefully. “I definitely get that impression.”

  Jeff sighs dramatically. “Shame,” he says, putting a hand over his heart. “Think of the story it would have made for the grandkids.”

  I sputter out a laugh and sneak another glance at Nate. Again he’s looking at me; again we both look away.

  “Don’t write him off just yet,” Jeff says as he puts away the blood pressure cuff. “My Vince was a bit of a Casanova when I met him. Thought he was God’s gift to Greenwich Village.” He grins, holds up his left hand where a gold band gleamed. “We’ve been married five years this Christmas.”

  I feel warm on the inside, and I’m not sure whether it’s from the strong, sweet tea, or Jeff’s obvious love for his husband’ it glows from his face when he mentions his name. I feel another sharp twinge of jealousy. I want that. I want someone special, who makes my face light up when I talk about them. I want to be loved.

  “Maybe there’s hope, then,” I tell Jeff with a smile. If nothing else, the hook up with Nate has made me realize that I’m ready to get back in the saddle, to speak. Even if I can’t imagine it ever being as good as it was in that elevator. With him.

  Heat steals into my cheeks again. I risk yet another look in Nate’s direction.

  Once again, Nate is looking back.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Nate

  Once I’m out of the elevator, a pretty paramedic who introduces herself as Nina tells me she wants to check me over. “On our first date?” I quip, and she lets out a peal of tinkling laughter. But I’m not genuinely flirting, I realize, as she wraps me in a foil blanket and leads me to a nearby chair; it’s just a reflex. The only woman I’m interested in right now is sitting six feet away from me, looking very cosy with a male paramedic. He’s handsome, I guess, in a rugged, outdoorsy way, and seems very interested in what Allie has to say. I watch jealously as he puts his fingers to the skin of her wrist, and then wraps a cuff around her slender arm, Allie smiling up at him.

  I look away, my gut clenching. Allie isn’t mine, despite what I’d said in the throes of passion; she can flirt with whoever she wants.

  I can’t resist looking back, almost immediately. Is it just me, or does she even look stunning wrapped in foil? As I watch, the male paramedic says something to her, and she glances in my direction, then flushes when she sees that I’m watching and looks away.

  Nina is chattering like a monkey, and I make little yes/no noises in response, but really I’m straining to hear the conversation between Allie and the paramedic. What’s he saying to make her blush like that? I realize, startled, that my fists are clenched; that I want to floor this man who is chatting so easily to the woman I want. Because I realize that I do want her; I want her so fucking badly it’s killing me.

  From the way she acted in the elevator after we...well, after, she’s not interested in seeing where this could go. But when I look over at her again and find that again, she lifts her gaze to meet mine, I can’t help but wonder if I’ve read it wrong. Maybe it’s not that she’s disinterested. Maybe – and hope rises in my chest at the thought – maybe she’s just not used to acting on her urges in the same way I am. Maybe it’s not me she’s regretting as such, but only having acted out of character. There is an innocence about her, after all; I sensed that at the start. She doesn’t strike me as the kind of girl who hooks up with strangers a lot. I should know; they’re the girls I usually go for, and they’re usually a lot more forward than Allie was.

  Another look
in Allie’s direction, and again she meets my gaze. I feel a stirring in my loins.

  There’s only one way to find out if Allie is interested: I’m going to have to ask her on a date.

  It’s a good job Nina has already taken my blood pressure, because even the thought sends my heart rate soaring.

  Because I may be a charmer and I may have slept with scores of women, but here’s the thing: I’ve never asked a girl out on a date before.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Allie

  “Ok hon, we’re all done.”

  Jeff takes the empty cup of tea from me, and helps me out of the foil. I feel a lot warmer now, though my clothes are still wet through, and sticking to my skin. I imagine stripping and sinking into a hot bath full of foam, maybe with a glass of wine and a book; god, I’ve never wanted anything so much.

  My eyes slide across to Nate.

  Well. Maybe I’ve wanted one thing as much.

  Bill makes his way over, holding a walkie-talkie. “I’ve just heard that they’re letting people back into the building,” he tells me, “so it looks like you’ll be able to get back to work.” His eyes crinkle in a smile.

  “Oh, actually I don’t...never mind.” I smile up at him. “Thank you for getting us out of there.”

  “Not a problem. You take care, now.”

  “And you. Merry Christmas.”

  “Merry Christmas, Allie.”

  Bill goes back to the shaft, where the fire-fighters are joking amongst themselves as they pack their equipment away. I suppose I should make my way downstairs so that I can speak to someone about rescheduling my interview. I look over at Nate, but he’s frowning down at his cell-phone, oblivious to what’s going on around him. Guess that’s that, then.

  I sigh, and sling my purse across my shoulder, but before I can move, a voice sounds in my ear.

 

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