Frank
I should be exhausted but I’m not. By the time I got home last night, it was nearly one in the morning and I most definitely did not crawl into bed and fall right to sleep. Sarah danced through my mind while I lay awake, replaying each and every detail of the evening.
What she said.
What I said in return.
The way the light played in her eyes.
Her easy nature and quick sense of humor, coupled with hints of something much deeper running under the surface.
My alarm goes off and I spring out of bed, practically dancing through my morning. Just in case my energy takes a nosedive, I arm myself with a giant coffee for the morning meeting, but damn, I’m firing on all cylinders today. If there’s a question, I have an answer. If there’s a problem, I have a solution. If there’s a disagreement, I see a peaceful resolution. And through it all, Sarah’s name ticks through my head in time with the second hand on the clock.
Jason catches my attention as we step out of the conference room around noon. “You, my friend, are super human today. Feel like hopping over to my office? I have some problems I’d love you to solve.”
“Nah.” I throw back the last of my coffee. “How will you ever learn to succeed on your own if all I ever do is pick up your slack?” I ask, even though he has no slack to pick up. The man challenges me to be a better version of myself on a daily basis. While I’m good at what I do, he’s better and I always shoot for the top.
Jason falls into step with me as I head toward the elevators. “What has the extra pep in your step today?” He presses the button and leans against the wall. “If I didn’t know you better, I’d say you picked up a bad habit overnight.”
The elevator doors slide open with a ding, revealing none other than Sarah, standing alone inside, looking sexy as hell in the same little black dress and boots she had on last night, fiddling with the silver leaf dangling from her necklace. Her face brightens when she recognizes me. “Well, hey there, you.”
Jason and I step inside the elevator and I fight the urge to introduce him to my new bad habit. “You know you didn’t have to come in to apply for that admin job, right?”
My question earns me a sharp look from Jason. He knows as well as I do that I can’t handle another kerfuffle with a coworker, but thankfully, he doesn’t call me out on it in front of Sarah. Instead, he steps forward and offers her his hand.
“Jason Lancaster,” he says. “Frank’s better-looking friend.”
Sarah pretends to size him up, letting her gaze run up his body and then down mine. “I’d come up with a witty reply, but I’m not sure I know you well enough to be honest.” She releases his grip with a smile. “Sarah Carmichael,” she says before turning to me. “And I called this morning to inquire about the job and they asked me to come in right away for an interview, smart ass.”
Her response earns me another sideways glance from Jason, but I ignore it. “Well, congratulations, then.” I lean against the wall beside Sarah.
“I don’t have the job, yet. No reason to congratulate me.”
“Eh. Technicalities. You’ll have an offer by the beginning of next week. I’m sure of it.”
“Then I guess my savings account will take yet another hit, unless jeans, bikinis, and semi-slutty dresses count as business casual around here.” Sarah smirks as the elevator shudders to a stop and the door slides open.
Jason pushes off the wall. “And that right there is my cue to leave.” He looks at me, a wide smile smeared across his face and a look in his eyes that says ‘get off the elevator, asshole.’
He’s right. I’d be better off to wish her the best, shake her hand, and resolve to maintain a lukewarm friendship with Sarah while she’s still in town. But what are the chances of whatever this is with Sarah turning into another Violet situation?
For one, Sarah is not Violet.
And for two, Sarah won’t be in Denver long enough to cause a problem.
The odds are in my favor, I know that much.
I fold my arms across my chest. “I’m gonna ride down with Sarah. See ya in a few.” I lift a hand as the doors slide shut. Jason raises a judgmental eyebrow before he disappears from view.
The elevator begins its descent and then lurches crazily. Sarah cries out and places a hand on the wall. “Whoa. That’s…”
The lights flicker.
A grinding sound eats her words.
And…
…we stop.
“Uhh…” Sarah looks to me, her chest rising and falling rapidly.
“Looks like I should have gotten off with Jason.” I give her my best everything’s going to be okay face, despite my own elevated heartrate.
“I am so glad you didn’t.” She tentatively releases her death grip on the wall. “At least the lights stayed on. Silver lining and all that. What do we do now?” Sarah blows a careful breath past pursed lips.
The honest answer is that I have no idea what to do, but I pretend like I’m the resident expert on stuck elevators. I try the ‘Door Open’ button. When that doesn’t work, I try the ‘Door Closed’ button. Nada. I push one of the buttons for the floor I think we’re closest to, and then, when nothing happens after that, I finally push the ‘Call’ button.
Sarah giggles. “So, basically, you have no idea either.”
“Not really. But that seems to cover all the bases. If nothing happens in the next couple minutes, I’ll call building security on my phone.”
A voice scratches through shitty speakers. “Yes?”
I explain the situation to the disembodied voice, who then promises to have help on the way as soon as possible and apologizes for the inconvenience. “Oh,” the person continues. “And, when I say as soon as possible, I mean you should go ahead and make yourselves as comfortable as you can. These things can take hours. Have a nice day!”
Sarah turns to me with wide eyes, color rising high in her cheeks. Fear tightens her features, but she lets out another long breath and forces a smile. “I’m just chalking up experiences and adventures left and right, aren’t I? First time west. First time in a car accident. First time in Denver. First time stuck in an elevator.”
I appreciate the effort she’s making to stay calm. Her flared nostrils and wild gaze betray how anxious she is, but I don’t let on that I see it. “Wow. I’m almost jealous.” I step closer to her, hoping my presence will soothe her. “Maybe I should try taking off on a random trip without knowing where I’m going someday.”
“If you want to totally renovate your life in less than a month, I say go for it. New job. New city. New clothes. Hell, I might even get a new car out of it.” Sarah laughs and I’d do anything to hear that sound again. Some of her visible anxiety slips away.
We talk about whatever comes to our minds for the better part of an hour. I regale her with stories of growing up on the ranch, getting in trouble with my brothers, and helping Leo out of some pretty tough situations.
“I tried so hard to like growing up on the farm,” Sarah says when I’m done. “You know what? Scratch that. I really didn’t try all that hard. David and Colton, my older brothers, were so good at it and I really hated getting dirty. It drove my dad crazy. I think he would have been happier if he’d had all boys, like you guys.”
The conversation moves on. I learn her favorite show to binge watch on Netflix and she learns I really don’t watch much TV. I discover exactly what in the world it means to be born on the cusp of a sign—her birthday falls during the transition of Aquarius into Pisces, so she has traits of both signs—and she realizes just how much I wasn’t kidding when I told her I couldn’t care less about that kind of stuff.
“Alright,” I say during a lull in conversation. “Tell me one thing that happened to you when you were young that no one else knows about.”
Sarah draws her brows together and a wild look shoots through her eyes. She opens her mouth, then closes it, then opens it again, as if she wants to say something but doesn’t know where to start. It’s not like her to be speechless, so I break the silence, afraid I stepped into a landmine of emotional scars.
“For example, when I was fresh out of high school, my brother Leo put a firecracker in the mailbox. I saw him do it, and the kid was already in trouble for skipping school, so instead of telling Mom, I thought I’d just get the thing out of the mailbox and toss it in the ditch and no one would be the wiser. Only, the timing was way off and it ended up looking like I was the one who put the thing in there. I got in so much trouble, and my mom kept saying how unlike me it was, but I never told a soul the truth until now.”
“That’s your deepest, darkest secret?” Sarah widens her eyes and shakes her head. “Man. You really are a rebel soul, aren’t you?”
It’s not my deepest, darkest secret. Not by a long shot. But I don’t know her well enough to get into the real stuff. Someday, if she sticks around, we’ll talk about it. But for now we’ll stick with the high level info. “Consider yourself officially in the inner circle of Frank Wilde.”
Sarah smiles, and then drops her gaze as she thinks. I watch her face as she decides what to say. Will she tell me whatever it is that had her so upset just moments ago? Or will she choose to censor herself too?
“So,” she says as she fiddles with the hem of her skirt. “Remember in middle school when people would pass notes around? At my school, they had these really intricate ways to fold the paper and the note would be something silly like, do you like me? Check yes or no. And there’d be actual boxes for people to check.”
So she opted for the high level stuff, too.
I laugh to cover my disappointment. “I think that’s just a mainstay of growing up. It was the same way in my school.”
Sarah rolls her eyes. “Yeah, well, I never got one of those notes. My friends did, but I didn’t and I spent the better part of eighth grade trying to figure out what was wrong with me.”
I’d bet my family’s ranch that Sarah’s friends weren’t as pretty as she was. There isn’t a thirteen-year-old boy alive who would have had the balls to pass a girl like her a note and risk getting shot down.
“I can assure you,” I say. “There’s nothing wrong with you.”
Sarah lets out a short little laugh. “Now you’re just being foolish. There’s plenty wrong with me. Just ask anyone who knows me.”
At some point, we get tired of standing and sit, side by side, leaning against the wall. Her body presses against mine, her scent, so sweet and spicy, envelops me. Wonderfully terrible thoughts invade my mind.
...my body pressed against hers, my hands sliding under her skirt…
“So, do you really think I’ll have the job by the beginning of next week?”
…my fist in her hair as her lips wrap around my cock…
“Um…” I clear my throat. “Definitely. I mean, as long as you didn’t blow the interview.”
Sarah bumps her shoulder against mine. “Hey! This is me we’re talking about. Of course I didn’t blow the interview.”
…her dress around her waist, her head thrown back as I drive myself into her, sweat running down my back…
I turn to her, her face just inches from mine. “You think?”
“Oh, believe me, Wilde. I know.” Her gaze flickers to my lips.
I want to kiss her. Holy shit do I want to kiss her, but considering the thoughts in my head and the fact that there’s no place for us to be but here, I couldn’t stop at a kiss. I’d ravage her. Debase her. I’d bury myself in her and make her scream my name until I knew I owned her.
Sarah adjusts so she’s facing me, puts her hand on my thigh, and leans in.
Her eyes find mine, desire burning like twin flames.
I lick my lips and run a finger along her arm.
She shivers, expelling a breath through parted lips.
“You guys still in there?” The voice comes through the shitty speaker. Sarah and I jump back and she scrambles to her feet, blushing furiously. “Sorry. Just a little stuck elevator humor,” continues the asshole on the other end of the line.
I roll my eyes. “We’re definitely still in here.” And he couldn’t have picked a worse time to come to our rescue.
Or maybe it’s the best time.
Because I know without a doubt that I won’t be able to stop.
Not with Sarah.
When we finally come together, it’ll be an explosion of passion and heat.
Of skin and lips and tongues and teeth.
“Just wanted to let you know that help has arrived and we’ll have you out of there before you know it. And this time, before you know it actually means you’ll be out of there and back to your regularly scheduled lives soon.”
While the jerk from the call center laughs at his own joke, I turn to Sarah. I consider grabbing her by the waist and kissing the ever-living shit out of her, but I show monumental restraint and keep my hands to myself. What with Bree being crazy and spreading rumors, and Vi quitting and spreading truths, the last thing I need is to be found, trapped in an elevator, with my body pinned against Sarah’s, our mouths clashing, her legs hooked around my waist.
And if I kiss her, hell, if I touch her at all, that’s exactly where we’ll end up.