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“Promise.”
It was dark, but I could tell Nick squinted in my direction. He paused, then spoke into his napkin. “It’s Home Alone… Two.”
I coughed up sweet and sour sauce, my response a telling judgment from the promise I clearly couldn’t keep. “Two!”
“Hey! Don’t you dare.”
“I’m sorry, but that’s blasphemy. One is the original, it’s untouchable. Two?”
“I’m a New Yorker, what can I say? It’s the same movie as the first, but in our city. It’s way better.”
“He’s not even home alone in that one!”
“He is at one point… alone in a home. It gets by on technicality.” Nick fought back a smile, reaching into his endless bag of Chinese food to hand me napkins and an egg roll. I took both from his hand, still laughing at how appalled he was by my response.
“Is this to shut me up?” I asked, taking a quick bite, wiping sauce off my chin.
“Trying to make amends for offending you with my movie taste… wait till you hear my thoughts on Jingle All the Way.” Nick turned his attention back to his food, but I didn’t dare look away.
It had been over thirty minutes since the power went out, but I didn’t seem to mind any more. Sure, I was a little drunk, still semi-mortified, but Nick was being totally cool. The emergency panel was still open, the speaker still silent, but I wasn’t that bothered. Here in the dark, munching on food, laughing, it almost felt romantic, almost like a date.
I ignored the fantasy, the ridiculous notion that us being stuck in an elevator could ever be considered something as exciting as going out to dinner with Nick Stafford. Yet, wasn’t that what we were doing?
“Thank you,” I said quickly.
Nick perked up.
“Pardon?”
“Thank you for making me feel better. I know I was freaking out earlier, but you… fixed that. Guess that’s what you do though. You fix things, and not just the plumbing… I don’t know what I’d do if I were alone right now.”
Nick took a few more bites, then shrugged.
“I’d find you.” He inhaled, “Just like someone will find us. It’s late and people are either out celebrating tonight, or already in bed.”
“Maybe Marty will come to our rescue,” I joked, but Nick was quick to reply.
“His bowl is full of food, and he’s watching Seinfeld right now. He won’t even know I’m missing.”
“So, he isn’t expecting this giant sack of Chinese food?”
Nick furrowed. “It was more of a Christmas surprise… the old boy will still get a treat once I’m back.”
We both chewed a little longer, taking turns crossing our legs, making due with the space we had. It was spacious, but Nick’s long legs would spread out from time to time, his large boot resting near my thigh. I kept my legs tight together, our walls made of mirrors, giving me all the opportunity to accidentally flash Nick if I weren’t careful. It was dark though, maybe I could get away with it, my panties still hidden enough that I carefully relaxed more in my posture.
“So… why were you all dressed up tonight? I know you were with your boss, but…” he didn’t finish his sentence, he only arched a perfectly intrigued brow.
“There was sorta a Christmas party tonight.”
“Sorta?”
“Well… a big one. But it ended up having to do with my deadline, so I was on the clock, but with cocktails, of course.”
“Oh! A work party.” He seemed sensitive to the subject, pausing after the word work. Oh, god, of course, he was thinking of this morning, of the package I so pathetically declared was for my job.
“I’m actually doing a small assignment: Twelve Days of Sex-Mas.”
“Never heard that version of the song before,” he grinned.
