Me? Well, I guess I was one of the lucky bastards the boss wanted to keep. Perhaps she secretly fancied me. Don’t get me wrong, she was fucking hot!

Miss Severin was always dressed in a pencil skirt, which showed off her pert ass, and her legs were to drool on, especially when she had her Louboutin heels strapped on her dainty little feet. She made sure her fine tits were noticeable, wearing tight-fitting silk blouses, and her luscious long, silver blonde hair contrasted with her naturally bronzed skin. Her plump lips were always painted in bright red that stained her coffee cup every single time. Her petite nose completed her stunning look. She was like a supermodel. But her bright blue eyes were always as cold as ice, telling you not to mess with her.

Once I had the rare chance of seeing her smile and my heart had serious trouble keeping on beating. At that particular moment I fell for her, knowing I would be doomed for the rest of my life. Since then, my name – Allan – stopped having any meaning for me, but that was fine as long as I could have my daily fix: seeing Miss Severin. Catching a glimpse of her beautiful, angelic face always made my day. Most of the time I saw her sitting in her office, but if I was lucky, I could admire her amazing body. I loved the moments I could blatantly look at her swinging hips, her cocky strut was so very sexy! Of course, there were occasional meetings she’d organized, but then she was always on her guard, never showing any emotions other than being slightly annoyed.

It had been exactly a year since that pivotal meeting with my boss. I managed to save her ass by pointing out a serious calculation error in a project, worth a couple of million dollars. It was not even part of my job, but somehow I noticed the numbers didn’t add up, especially for the new equipment this project needed. It wasn’t in my interest to have a massive surplus of uniquely built cooling systems, which I couldn’t use for any other project.

It was amazing to see her expressing her gratitude, putting her hands on her chest as she told me I saved the project from failing. That genuine smile, which reached her eyes, was such a contrast compared with her tyrannical expression when she picked up her phone to speak to the department that had fucked up massively. I was hooked when I heard her sweet-sounding voice, and I still get goosebumps remembering her icy sneer when she spoke to the head of calculations.

It was the early evening of Valentine’s Day when this happened, and before I went home, I bought myself a good bottle of red wine and some snacks. All to ease the sorrow I had, knowing my life had lost all color.

Today I had been shopping at lunchtime, knowing that the shops would be busy tonight as most people were trying to get ready for Valentine. I sighed, knowing it was going to be a horribly lonely night again. I was sure I wasn’t the only one with a failing love life, but mine was bittersweet because as far as I knew Miss Severin was single as well. Attempting to get her attention other than at work was unthinkable.

Why? Because I was a real nerd.

Although I took care of my body and regularly went to the gym, not a single woman ever paid attention to me. I guess part of that had to do with my glasses, without them I can’t see a thing. I had a special pair for the gym that couldn’t slip off. They were clunky, making me look like a super nerd. The other part was that I wasn’t interested in getting the latest gym wear or an expensive brand. I knew it wasn’t worth the money, being a nerd, walking in three-hundred-dollar trainers. I guess I never understood the game of getting attention by wearing fancy clothes.

After I was finished for the day, I was on my way to the canteen to get the snacks from the fridge. I was looking forward to getting drunk and eating myself sick on the fatty snacks I bought. I realized it was becoming a tradition to ‘celebrate’ my misery on Valentine’s night.

There I was, walking towards the elevator with a heavy bag full of comfort food. I was lucky that I didn’t have to wait because the elevator doors opened instantly. It was strange that the old elevator cabin moved down a little when I stepped in. I guessed it was the extra weight I was carrying, and my mind told me it would go down just a tad faster. The sooner I was out of this depressing building, the better it would be for me.

As the doors closed, I heard hasty footsteps coming towards me. I couldn’t believe my eyes when a beautiful leg appeared in the narrowing opening of the sliding doors. I instantly recognized the steaming hot high heel belonging to Miss Severin. The doors whined loudly as they separated from each other, revealing her amazing body.

“Miss Severin,” I mumbled, staring at her satisfied smile as she strutted into the cabin.

“Mr. Trent,” she replied coolly as she put her smart leather case down on the floor. Shakily, the doors closed again but nothing happened. “Going down?”

My face turned bright red as I had forgotten to push the button for the ground floor. I cleared my throat before I dared ask, “Ground floor, I assume?”

She nodded while a smirk appeared on her pretty face. I hated to admit it, but she was right. I behaved like a fool.

As soon as I pushed the button, a loud clang indicated the elevator was ready to descend, starting the long and agonizingly slow trip from the twenty-fourth floor. The plastic handles of my bag moved in my hand as the cabin jumped to descend.

Nervously, I looked to my feet, not knowing what to say to her. I liked her perfume, which started to sweeten the acrid smell of the old elevator cabin. As I gathered the nerve to make a friendly comment about it, there was a loud shrieking noise.

Miss Severin screamed when the lights in the cabin started to flicker as the elevator shuddered to a grinding halt. Bright blue sparks outside the cabin were visible through the small opening of the doors, creating scary spatting noises. Within a few moments the lights went out, leaving us in darkness that was lit up by an occasional spark.

“Oh my god,” she whispered shakily.

“Shit,” I cursed as I took my cell from my pocket. With a few flicks, the light of my phone bathed the cabin in a cool, blueish light.

We both screamed as a loud bang, accompanied by an enormous flash, shook the cabin again. My heart was in my mouth while I was having the unreasonable fear the elevator would crash. I held my breath for a long time until Miss Severin asked, “Do you think it will fall down?”

Only then my brain found the place that had the information that an elevator wouldn’t just fall, because of the safety measures. Even though the elevator was old, I knew it was safe to assume it would keep us from falling.

I slowly shook my head as I replied with a tremor in my voice, “There are emergency brakes that prevent the cabin from tumbling down.”

“Right,” she said curtly, and as she took a deep breath, she fished her phone from her jacket. “Can you shine your light on the panel? There must be a number we can call.”

With genuine respect I watched Miss Severin telling off the person who had answered her call.

“What do you mean there’s no contract? But your number is on the panel! The SLA is defaulted to what? What? The response time is six hours? Are you aware that we are stuck on the twenty-fourth floor?”

I had the chance to study her face a lot closer. Despite her feral anger she was still stunning.

“What has Valentine to do with the response time? Clearly you understand you cannot keep me waiting for six hours!”

She was pinching the bridge of her nose as she paced around in a tiny circle. Sighing, she dropped her shoulders, indicating the person on the other side wouldn’t give her a satisfactory answer.

“I understand your hands are tied. Alright, you have my number. Give me a call as soon as you know someone is coming to help us.”

She growled as she ended the call. She looked up to the dark ceiling for a few moments before she looked at me with a defeated expression on her face.

“I’m sorry,” she said flatly. “You’ll have to deal with me for the coming six hours.”

“It’s okay,” I said with a smile, being absolutely thrilled. I was actually going to spend Valentine’s Day with her! “It’s not your fault we’re stuck.”

“I know,” she replied as she clenched her slender hands to a fist. “But if I had known about the shitty contract, I would’ve changed it.”

“But you didn’t and probably never would have known about it either.”

She leaned against the side of the cabin as she studied my face. “Probably not.”

My heart started to beat a little faster as I looked straight into her eyes, noticing she was actually interested in the person standing in front of her.

“What’s your name?” she asked.

I was shocked by her direct question. “My, my name is Allan.”

“Allan Trent,” she purred. Her smile reached her eyes again, making me feel naked in front of her. “Nice to meet you. Please call me Anne.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Anne,” I managed to say without a stutter. I remembered the cute way she had pronounced her surname, guessing it was of French origin. “May I assume there’s French blood running through your veins?”

Her laugh was sophisticated but very pleasant to my ears. “Oh my, Allan. I’m impressed you’ve done your homework properly.”

I knew it was an answer she had used many times and I dreaded the fact that my face was getting hot. But I wasn’t prepared for her reaction as she suddenly answered with a small voice, “I’m sorry, Allan, that was a little too condescending. You’re right: my mother was born in Paris.”

“Your mother?” I echoed, wondering why she had kept her mother’s surname.

Anne sighed deeply as she rolled her eyes. “She was the ultimate feminist. She chose to become a mother without a man in her life.”

Somehow it all made sense to me, it explained how she profiled herself in society. I nodded. “I see. But you’re born in America.”

Her smile was timid, showing tenderness. “Yes, my mother was brave enough to make the crossing and jump into the murky deep waters of New York. Now she owns a chain of beauty salons across the east coast.”

I looked at her perfectly manicured hands. “I bet there’s one here in town.”

She nodded with a healthy blush. “My mom insists on doing my nails and anything else she thinks needs doing.”

My chuckle was a little nervous, not really understanding why she was telling me this. I was getting warmer and warmer, and it wasn’t only because I was with the woman I adored. Being in a small and badly ventilated space I absolutely wanted to avoid sweating.

I took off my scarf and draped my coat on the floor to sit on. I wanted to make sure that the six hours were as comfortable as possible. As I folded my thick woolen scarf into a small cushion, I suggested, “Why don’t we sit down?”

I saw her hesitating and instantly realized her short skirt would ride up as soon as she tried to sit down. I patted at the self-made cushion next to me and looked away, knowing she could move without losing her dignity.

I was surprised by her agility as she smoothly lowered herself next to me. It was adorable to see how she shimmied her skirt down her legs, hiding her creamy thighs from view. Sitting there with her killer high heels still on her feet was a funny sight. Nothing had prepared me for her effortlessly reaching for the dainty straps of her sexy shoes, unclipping them both in a fraction of a second.

“Oh, this feels so good,” she cooed as she kicked them off.

I followed suit by sliding off my leather shoes, hoping the pair of socks I was wearing didn’t have any holes in them. I let out a sigh of relief when I saw my feet were clad in decent socks.

She snorted. “Sometimes I envy you guys.”

“Yeah,” I replied dryly, “it would be quite something if we men started to show up in heels at the office.”

She laughed, but then she elbowed me in the side. “Stop it,” she said softly.

I turned my head and looked at her, taken aback by the sincerity of her expression. “I’m sorry.”

“Tell me, Allan,” she said, suddenly using her authoritative voice. “Where are your roots?”

I smiled briefly, knowing all too well she deliberately changed the subject. “My parents both came from Kentucky. I can’t remember much of it because I ended up living with my grandmother right here in New York.”

“So, you’re an orphan?”

I nodded. “A car crash killed them both instantly.”

She nodded slowly, staring at her feet.

It was strange to sit next to her, exchanging mundane information. But then I realized it was the only thing we possibly could do, although it was clear we both felt a little uneasy. Suddenly I knew how we could break the tense situation. “How about we have a picnic?”

“What? Are you kidding me? You actually have food in that bag?”

I leaned over to grab the handles of the bag. As I lifted it between the two of us, I answered, “And a bottle. I hope it’s a good one.” I gave her the French bottle of wine, hoping it was worth the high price I had paid for it.

“Oh my goodness, Allan,” she gushed when she saw the bottle’s label. “This is way too expensive! You should keep this one for a special occasion.”

“So, it has your approval then?”

Resolutely she handed me the bottle back. “Are you crazy? This must have cost you at least a hundred dollars!”

She wasn’t far off, but I didn’t care how much I’d paid for it. “You know,” I said as I removed the fancy foil from the neck of the bottle, “I had planned to drink it on my own this evening, but I’m happy I can share it with you. That’s much more fun.”

“I, I,” Anne stuttered as her eyes grew bigger, clearly taken aback, “I’m not sure if I’m the right company for you.”

I shrugged my shoulders, knowing she was wrong. “Well, since you’re stuck here for at least another six hours, you might as well enjoy a good glass of wine.”

“Yeah right,” she snorted. “How on earth are you going to open the bottle? I mean there’s a real cork in there.”

“I know.” With a cunning smirk I fished my small Swiss army knife from my pocket. “A man needs to be prepared for everything.”

She huffed as she crossed her arms, but I could see the eager gleam in her eyes when I made good progress opening up the bottle. I pulled the cork out with a satisfying pop.

Meanwhile, Anne had found the fancy crystal glass in the plastic bag. “You bought only one glass?”

I nodded, looking at her nimble fingers, which were carefully unpacking the delicate glass from its protective case. “Why would I get two if I was going to be alone?”

“Yup,” she sighed, looking a little dazed, “point taken.”

“But I don’t mind sharing the glass with you, do you?”

Her mouth fell open and it took a moment before she responded meekly, “Sure.”

I gently took the glass from her hand and carefully poured the dark red liquid into it. It was strange yet romantic when I handed her the glass of wine, which glistened in the cell’s harsh light.

“I know it sounds extremely cheesy but,” and it took a lot of courage to say the next words, but I managed to utter, “Happy Valentine’s Day, Anne.”

Her genuine smile made my heart skip a few beats as she replied softly, “Happy Valentine’s Day to you too, Allan.”

She took the glass from my hand, briefly touching my fingers, and giggled nervously as she raised the glass to her lips. I’d never thought I would be completely spellbound by the way she took her first sip of wine. Her amazing blue eyes never left mine as she swallowed the ridiculously expensive drink. Watching it slide down her slender throat was mesmerizing. She briefly closed her eyes and moaned softly as she truly enjoyed the fermented red grape juice.

She opened her eyes, and as she pulled the glass to her chest she said playfully, “I’m afraid I’ve changed my mind. I think I want to keep this glass all for myself.”

I gasped, and I’m not sure whether it was the natural response to her naughty act or the fact that she’d let her guard down. I pouted as I stared at the glass, but then an almost evil smile crept on my face, and I deliberately pulled the bottle to my chest. I laughed when I saw the defeated pout on her pretty face as she handed me the glass. But then the expression on her face changed again, and she said with a serious tone, “We shouldn’t drink more than a glass anyway. Wine does dehydrate and fills your bladder in no time.”

I admired her pragmatic approach and carefully took all the snacks out of the sturdy plastic bag. “I think I have a solution for that.” I folded the top of it in my hand and blew air into it. After a few lungfuls, I tested if the bag could hold the air. As I folded the bag, I said unperturbed, “We can use this for emergency.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Let’s hope we’re out of here by then.”

My mind couldn’t stop imagining the situation of her squatting down, while I tried to keep the bag in place. I nodded and said, “Small sips it is then.”

“I like your approach, Mr. Trent,” she remarked, looking at me with a funny smirk etched on her face.

“Why thank you, Miss Severin,” I said stoically, managing to keep my face void of any emotions.

Anne’s face turned towards the pile of carton boxes. “What kind of snacks did you buy?”

“Oh, just a few finger foods I like.”

Anne picked one of the boxes and read the description aloud, “Chicken taquitos! Oh, I love these!”

“Be my guest, Anne.” I said magnanimously. “There’s more than enough for the two of us.”

“Hawaiian chicken bites? Really?” she said with disgust as she gave the box to me. “They should ban it, together with the Hawaiian pizza!”

“Good!” I took a skewer out of the box. “The more I have for me!”

Anne shook her head. “What else do you have? Oh my god! Fried buffalo goat cheese balls!”

“Do you like those?”

“Oh yeah, baby,” she purred.

“How about seafood? I’m pretty sure there must be some grilled garlic shrimp skewers in one of the boxes.”

“No way! You’ve spent a fortune! Those mini lobster rolls are really good.”

“I know,” I confessed meekly. “But I only do this once a year.”

“Oh no,” she sighed as she read the labels of the last two boxes. “Cured brown sugar salmon skewers and bacon-wrapped sweet potatoes as well.”

“What?” I asked concerned. “You don’t like them?”

“I do!”

“So, what’s the problem?”

“I, I,” she stammered, clearly agonized. “I can’t decide what to take! There’s too much choice and I like them all.”

“Okay,” I said slowly, not seeing her problem. “Why don’t you take them all?”

“Do you know how many calories we’re talking about here? You’ll have to roll me out of this elevator if I eat all of this.”

“Oh, come on, Anne,” I said with a soothing voice. “It won’t happen in one night.”

“You don’t want to know,” she sighed, shaking her head. “If I look at food, I gain weight instantly.”

I laughed. “You want me to pick a few for you?”

“No! Oh, Allan,” she moaned with a pout, “why did you get so many? It’s not fair!”

“I don’t know,” I said softly. “I just wanted to forget.”

Her playfulness disappeared, and as she looked at me, she asked with a friendly voice, “To forget what?”

I looked down at the glass of wine that was still in my hand. I took a sip to give myself more time. I savored the amazing taste of the wine, almost forgetting I had to give her an answer. “To forget Valentine’s Day.”

She reached out to me, gently laying her hand on my forearm. “I know. It’s so hyped up.”

“So, you don’t have someone special?”

Anne opened her mouth to say something but sighed deeply as she looked down. “I can’t.”

“Huh?” I asked confused. “What do you mean you can’t?”

Her upper lip trembled a little as she replied, “My position dictates I’m not allowed to make any mistakes. A lover or a partner would demand too much of my attention, which I cannot afford at the moment.”

I was not surprised that Anne was in a difficult position. “That sucks,” I said softly.

“Actually, it was you that made me realize I had been too slack. I had made some big mistakes,” she conceded with a forlorn smile etched on her face. “It took me almost a year to completely unravel what was going on.”

“What? You mean those cooling units weren’t a mistake?”

“The excessive numbers were; that’s why you probably noticed it. You see, there was a bunch of your colleagues who thought they could earn a little extra by selling off surplus goods at the expense of an unknowing customer.”