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"They're great, but it had everything I owned of value in it. Wallet. ID. Computer. Even my cashier's check for my first and last month's rent for my new apartment."
"Crap. Do you have any friends in town who can help? Any family? Business associates?"
I sighed and ticked off imaginary numbers on my fingers. "Nope. Nope. Nope."
"Damn," he said in a low voice. "Sorry," he added. "That's really rough. Manhattan is great, but it can be a hard place to live."
"I'm going to my first meeting with my new boss and I'm going to have to ask her if she'll accept a bank transfer for me. I won't be able to eat or pay for my new apartment otherwise. The police officer who interviewed me said he didn't think I was the type to do well dumpster-diving and sleeping under the Brooklyn Bridge."
He laughed. "I would have to agree. You most definitely wouldn't do well living on the streets."
I laughed in return and then, when the moment passed, I exhaled heavily. "Maybe the local soup kitchen has room in the lineup."
He watched me for a moment and then he crossed his arms. "I can front you some cash until you can get your ID."
"You?" I glanced at him to see if he was serious. "That's so nice of you to offer, but I don't want to impose on a stranger. Especially a stranger I almost sent to the ER yesterday."
"I hate to see you ask your new boss to accept the money transfer on your first day. You should be doing everything you can to be seen as competent and capable."
"And being robbed in Grand Central Station would signal that I'm not?"
He shrugged, grinning. Then he grew serious. "It would just mean you were her problem instead of the solution to her problem."
I glanced at my Fitbit, which told me I had exactly three minutes to make my meeting.
"Oh, damn," I said. "Speaking of my boss, I'm supposed to be meeting her in three minutes."
He removed a cell from a pocket over the bicep of his riding suit sleeve. "Be my guest."
"Thanks," I replied, then I opened up a browser window and signed into my Gmail account. Then, I sent her an email.
Sharon – it's me, Ella. Just a quick note to let you know that I'm currently stuck on the elevator somewhere between the tenth and twelfth floor. I know you have a meeting so just in case they don't get us out before then, you'll have to go by yourself. So sorry!
Luckily, she got it right away and sent me a response.
No problem. That damn elevator. I'll be glad when they get the other one working. Good luck. It took two hours the last time someone got stuck. See you as soon as you get here. If I'm in the meeting, just have Tate show you in.
I handed the cell back to him and sighed. "She said it might take two hours to get us out."
"That sounds about right."
I closed my eyes. "Two hours in this elevator... I hate elevators."
"You're really very safe. Safer than driving in a car. Or a bike." He grinned.
I sighed. "Well, there's nothing I can do. I'm going to miss my first meeting with my boss on my first day of work. What else can go wrong?"
"Shh," he said. "Don't tempt the gods." He shook his head, his gaze moving over me. "You look like you need a drink."
I laughed, but the idea of a glass of beer sounded really good to me. "I need something, that's for sure."
"When you're finished today, I'll take you for a drink and meal at Frank's Pub down the street. They have great food. Call me when you're done for the day."
"I don't have a cell."
He nodded. "I have a burner if you want to use it. "
"I couldn't impose on you."
