Tuesday, October 6, 2009

She tore through the lobby like a hurricane, her Jimmy Choo’s cutting up the marble floor. She checked her watched and winced, holy fuck! The most important job interview of her life and she had just one minute to spare and twenty floors to conquer to get there.

“Hold those doors!” Her hand jammed the button of the elevator as the doors started to slide shut. She stepped in and selected the twentieth floor.

“Sorry.” She glanced a smile at the gentleman standing with his hands in his pockets.

He nodded in return and leaned back against the wall. She straightened her suit jacket, the one she’d dragged her best friend from shop to shop until she found the perfect charcoal suit. A tailored jacket that cinched at the waist showed off her amazing curves, she did have amazing curves she thought proudly. And the short pencilled knee-high skirt showed off her pretty good legs. She fumbled through her purse and checked herself over in her

Let’s see what damage I’ve done since the cab.

Her large blues eyes stared back at her, and she sighed in relief that her makeup was still looking neat and tidy. She wasn’t a big makeup girl, being
blessed with great skin and a nice tan but on this sort of occasion, it was important and a little lippy never hurt anyone.

She snapped the lid shut of her compact just as the elevator shuddered and came to a complete stop. She gripped the railing and looked up. “No no, not now!”

Now she was late.

She was late for the perfect job, in the perfect building in the most stupid god damn elevator. She wanted to kick it, but her shoes cost a month’s salary so that was out of the question.


“Hey, we’ll just call the repair guy.” A smoky voice floated behind her, Christ she’d forgotten she wasn’t in here alone.

She turned and smiled, hell, he was that good looking? Why didn’t she notice that before?

Dressed in jeans with a midnight blue suit jacket, a wide collared aqua shirt was one button open at the top of his lapels. His face was framed with cinnamon blonde hair, and his jaw was scraped clean and arrogant. His eyes, to her disappointment were shaded by RGB’s.

If she wasn’t already late for her job interview, she might have counted this as her lucky day.

“God, sorry.” She pinched the bridge of her nose, she needed to calm the hell down.

He chuckled and bent down to the emergency button.

“It’s not funny!” she snapped, “oh god sorry... I’m just... god I’m meant to be in a job interview.”

He thumbed the button until a crackle came through the little speaker, like the great and powerfuk Oz.

“We’re stuck in the east elevators, the middle one if I recall.”

“Thank you sir, we’ll send help out as soon as possible. Just stay calm, are you with anyone else?”

His piercing blue eyes connected with her and made her heart trip. “Yes, there’s a woman here with me, she’s going for a job interview. Are you able to let the company?” His eyebrow cocked.

“Sanderson Designs,” she quickly nodded. “I’m meant to be meeting with Jessica.”

He relayed the information off and after being assured that it wouldn’t take long, and stood back up.

“I laughed because, when I get nervous. I pinch the bridge of my nose too.”

He smiled warmly and again, she felt her heart tap nervously.

“Oh,” she laughed. God, she was such an idiot. She had no idea she even did that.

He stuck out his hand, “I’m Jon.”

It hit her like a ton of bricks. He was Jon, Jon Bon Jovi. She knew he looked a little familiar.

“Oh,” was all she managed again until she shook her head. Get with the programme woman.

“Jesus, sorry – Claire. Claire is my name.”


She was gorgeous, granted he was used to a fair share of gorgeous woman over the years but one or two still always managed to make him catch his breath again. She was deliciously curvy, his height with mile long legs and her wavy brunette hair was neatly slicked back in a corporate-esq ponytail.

But it was her eyes, that sparkled like emeralds and that she smelled like a hot night in the orient all musk and spice that clinched him. Then there were her lips, soft and slicked with siren red gloss ready to kill.

And they sure as fuck did.

He shook her hand and stood back, blowing out a breath. She’d calmed down thankfully, obviously whatever job interview she was late for, it was important. But god he hated small spaces, his lungs already felt like they were closing in so he had to keep busy.

He pulled out his iPhone but frowned when it flashed no signal.

“F-Damn. No signal.”

“You need to be somewhere too?”

He nodded and looked back over to her, “I had a meeting with my lawyer. I was going to give him a call.” He tucked his phone back into his coat and crossed his arms.

“You ok?”

“Yeah, I’m fine...just got to keep busy. So Claire, what job were you being
interviewed for? If you don’t mind me asking.”

She leaned back against the wall, and his eyes fell immediately to her
breasts until she began to talk again.

“Graphic design. In my business, anyone would kill to work for these guys.”
His eyebrow lifted, wow he didn’t expect that. She didn’t look the artsy type, he would have guessed law, finance, or office if he had to.

He bit down on the corner of his thumb, “well I really hope that they give you a chance to show your worth.”

Think about anything asshole, anything but being stuck in here and sex, with her.


“Are you sure you’re ok?”

He waved her concern away, “sure no problems.”

They both looked down as the emergency speaker came to life again.

“Hi there, listen just to let you know there’s a little delay with the service men arriving. They’re stuck in traffic but will be here as soon as possible, are you ok in there?”

Jon’s chest suddenly grew tight. “We’re fine, but can you try and hurry them up or something?” He tugged at his collar as sweat started to slide down the back of his neck.

“We’re doing our best sir.”

He closed his eyes, he could do this. When he opened them, the walls were moving, inching in closer sucking out the oxygen with them.


He scratched the back of his head. “Let’s just say I’m a little claustrophobic to put a better term to it.” Damn it, he hated admitting a weakness but she looked genuinely concerned and maybe if she knew, she could help.
As hell, he was out of any other ideas.


Anonymous said...

I am intrigued already. Jon in an elevator. I could help him out with his claustrophobia.

Anonymous said...

Hmmm now we need to distract Jon and make him forget his claustrophobia, hmmmm wonder how we can do that. I know what I would do!!! Great start and again, written fantastic!


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