Envelope.

Brand of envelopes.

Mead.

Reed.

I looked over at the elevator doors.

The Doors.

Jim Morrison.

Jim.

James.

Jay.

Reed. Jay Reed.

“Jay Reed.”

“Nice to meet you, Jay.”

“Likewise, Bianca.”

A voice rang over the intercom. “This is Chuck Sansone from building maintenance. Is someone there?”

“Yes!” Bianca answered. “We’re in here! We’re stuck!”

“We just wanted to let you know that we should have you out of there in no time. You’re in no danger, and we have a crew working on it.”

She looked extremely relieved when she shouted, “Thank you. Thank you so much! Please keep us posted.”

“Will do.”

I, on the other hand, wanted nothing more than to stay in this confined space with her. I needed to get to the bottom of why she hated me, but a part of me was also really enjoying playing Jay, the everyday guy whom she likely had no fucked-up, preconceived notions about.

“What do you do, Jay?”

It was the only thing I could think of based on my attire. “I own my own bike messenger service. I’m headed to the twenty-sixth floor.”

“Oh, that explains the package.”

“Because I’m well-endowed?”

She blushed a little. “No, the envelope there.” It pleased me that she was finally going along with my sense of humor.

“I know. Just messing with that pretty little head again.”

Bianca was still blushing. The lights coming on seemed to have been a game changer. She was definitely attracted to me. Sometimes, you just know. When she caught me staring at her, she batted her eyelashes and looked down at the ground.

Oh, yeah. I was definitely having an effect on her.

“How did you get into this field? Interviewing men you hate?”

“Well, I used to work as a trader on Wall Street.”

“How does that lead to reporting?”

“It doesn’t. It leads to a near nervous breakdown, which, therefore, leads to reporting. I figure, at least I’m still utilizing my degree somewhat, working for a business magazine.”

“How long do you think your interview will take?”

“Well, I’m already late. So, who knows if it’s still happening.”

“I’m sure he’ll understand, given the circumstances.”

“For all I know, he knew I was coming up and rigged this whole mechanical issue. Maybe he got cold feet about doing his first interview.”

“I think that’s a bit of a stretch. He would’ve just called and cancelled rather than tampering with elevator wires. I think you’re a bit paranoid, Georgy Girl. But lucky for you, I think I have the cure for that.”

“Does it involve your package?”

I bent my head back and chuckled. “It involves neither my package nor your balls.”

“What’s the cure for my paranoia?”

“Cronuts.”

“Whose nuts?”

“Cronuts.” I laughed. “They’re these half-donut, half-croissant thingies.”

“Oh, I think I saw them on the news, from that bakery on Spring Street?”

“Yup. They’re so friggin’ good. Want to get some for breakfast after your interview?”

Bianca nodded. “I’d like that.”

Fuck yeah.

She added, “If we ever get out of here.”

Almost as soon as she’d said it, the floor swayed a bit before building maintenance came on the intercom to let us know the elevator had been fixed.

I pressed the buttons for our respective floors and, lo and behold, we were moving. It was bittersweet.

When we arrived at my fake destination, I stood in between the doors to keep them from shutting. “How do I get in touch with you when you’re done?”

Bianca squinted her eyes at me. “Why don’t you carry a phone, anyway?”

“Long story. Maybe when you tell me your Mister Moneybags dirt, I’ll let you know why I don’t carry one.”

The truth was, I’d stupidly left my phone at Caroline’s last night. I wasn’t going to tell Bianca that my phone was at the apartment of my long-time, casual fuck buddy.

“I’ll meet you out front,” I said.

“How will you know when I’m finished?”

“I’ll just wait for you.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I can browse some of the magazines in the stand out there. Maybe I’ll see what Bianca George has to say in the latest issue of Finance Times.” I winked.

“Okay.” She smiled. “See you soon.”

When the elevator closed, my heart was pumping. I immediately made my way to the front desk of this random company and flirted with the receptionist just so she would let me borrow her phone.

I used it to ring my secretary.

“Hi, Josephine. As you know, there’s a Bianca George from Finance Times coming to interview me this morning. I need you to keep her waiting initially for about forty-five minutes. When the time is up, then and only then, please inform her that I will no longer be able to make today’s interview. Let her know I’ll be in touch via email to reschedule.”

“Why have her wait at all? I don’t understand.”

“You don’t need to understand, okay? You just need to do it.”

“Yes, sir.”

Despite the fact that I’d left my personal cell at Caroline’s, I had a business phone I kept in my office.

“Can you also have someone run my phone down to the twenty-sixth floor right away? I’ll be waiting outside of the elevator. It’s charging on my desk.”