Chapter 3: A Chance Encounter

By the time Lily reached the soaring glass and metal tower of the Argento Plaza in midtown Manhattan, she was fifteen minutes late. She hadn't slept well. After Jeff's late-night visit, she tossed and turned, finally dozing off at dawn, then oversleeping by half an hour.

There was barely enough time to drag a brush through her hair and throw on an outfit before flying out the door. Racing for the bus stop, she arrived just in time to see the bus pulling away from the curb. With no other option, she'd chased down a cab, and after a harrowing ride through dense traffic, tumbled out onto the stairs of the building.

Straightening her skirt and smoothing her hair, she swept into the foyer, heading straight for the elevator. Rechecking her watch, she pounded the button, her eyes locked on the lighted numbers above the door, willing it to open.

When nothing happened, she hammered on the button again. "Great," she mumbled under her breath, pacing on the spot. She tried the second elevator, frantic when it didn't arrive either. Finally, completely frustrated, Lily threw her head back and screamed, her voice ricocheting off the marble walls: "Come on, you stupid thing!"

Suddenly one of the elevator doors slid open. "Sounds like someone's in a hurry," a disembodied voice said. Lily had to peek in around the corner to see who was speaking. She flushed with embarrassment when she saw a tall, intense-looking man with eyes as dark as coals standing against the wall. He looked amused.

"Sorry," she said, unable to look at him. "I'm late."

"I believe they're cleaning the other elevator," he said, his voice rich and smooth, like butter on his tongue. "An unfortunate accident, from what I hear. I'm sure your boss will understand."

"That's highly unlikely," Lily said.

"Surely, it's not your habit?" the man asked. He stood almost a foot taller than her and smelled salty, like the sea. Lily took a deep breath, strangely calmed by his presence.

"No, never," she replied. "I'm usually the first one there in the morning. I…I had a bad night."

"We've all been there," he said. "Perhaps you misjudge your boss."

"I take it you don't know her," Lily said, finally looking up at him. When their eyes met, an electrical shock ran up her spine, paralyzing her. She couldn't tear her eyes away from him. Then, suspended in their depths, she realized his eyes weren't black, but instead a stormy blue with streaks of silver that caught the light like the crest of a wave. She'd never seen anything like them.

He didn't move either, tilting his head toward her hair, his breath shallow, a warm smile creeping over his face. Neither of them spoke, content to linger in the others' presence. Time seemed to forget them.

Luxuriating in the moment, Lily was suddenly overwhelmed with images of a child's black, patent-leather shoes. They were running, terrified by the darkness, stumbling in the night. Lily gasped, overcome with emotion, tears welling in her eyes.

The man reached out to touch her shoulder. A bolt of lightning shot through her chest. "Are you all right?" he asked, concern in his eyes. It made her want to fly into his arms and nest there.

She managed to resist the urge. "It must be my blood sugar," she said, shaking her head when she finally found her voice. "I skipped breakfast."

"Can I offer you a coffee?" he asked, looking at her as though he might like to take a bite. "Or perhaps a muffin? We can go downstairs. It will only take a moment.”

“It's nice to meet you," Lily said, her brain recovering, but her knees still weak. "Thanks for the kind offer, but I'm already late enough. I don't dare."

"Then perhaps a rain check," he said, the possibility sending tingles up the back of Lily's neck.

Before she could answer, the elevator shuddered to a stop, and the doors slid open. Her boss, Barbara Flannery, stepped in, her eyes sweeping critically over Lily.

“What floor?" the man asked, his hand hovering over the panel. Lily lingered over his smooth skin and perfectly-manicured nails.

"Thirteen," Barbara said, barely acknowledging him, her coffee cup gripped in her hand. She looked as no-nonsense as her tone in her two-piece Prada pantsuit and six-inch heels.

"So I take it you're not the superstitious type," the man said, with mischief in his eye.

Barbara didn't turn around. "I'm afraid I don't know what you mean," she said, her tone tinged with irritation.

"The thirteenth floor," he explained. "Some people think it's bad luck. In some countries, they skip that floor altogether."

"I don't believe in luck," Barbara said icily. "I believe we make choices. Those choices are what guide our lives." She turned to Lily, her mouth pursed in disapproval. "Take Lily, for instance," she said. "Lily and I have an appointment with an important client today. Yet, she chooses to dress like she just crawled out of bed. On top of that, she was so late that I had to get my own coffee instead of preparing for our client's arrival."

Lily felt the blood drain from her face. She looked down in shame, horrified to realize she'd buttoned her sweater wrong. "Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry," Lily said. Clutching at the buttons. "I didn't sleep last night, I—"

"I don't care," Barbara interrupted her, stopping Lily in mid-sentence. “Lily, I hired you because you said you had no husband, no children, not even a pet to distract you from your work. I warned you that this job would take one hundred percent of your time for at least the next five years before you'll reap the very-generous rewards. Do you remember that?"

Lily nodded miserably.

"Is this necessary?" the man asked from behind Lily. "She made a mistake. Is it necessary to humiliate her?" Lily could feel the man's eyes boring into the back of her head and wished she could disappear.

"So, I don't care," Barbara continued, ignoring the stranger. "Keep whatever it was that made you late—noisy neighbors, a sick mother, the death of an old friend—to yourself. It doesn't belong in the office. Do I need to remind you that this is a prestigious position? Thousands applied for the job. If you aren't one hundred percent committed, please tell me now. Let's not waste any more of each other's time."

"I'm one hundred percent committed," Lily insisted. "I swear it won't happen again."

"Good," Barbara said as the elevator jolted to a stop again and the doors opened on the thirteenth floor. "You have one minute to pull yourself together, then meet me in the conference room."

Stepping out in front of Lily, Barbara pushed her way out of the elevator, too late to realize her spiked heel had fallen between the shaft and the door, trapping her foot. She lurched forward, face planting to the floor, dousing herself in hot coffee.

Lily leaped to her side to help. "Get off me," Barbara barked, twisting out of her shoe and pulling herself back to her feet.

The stranger winked at Lily. "May I offer some assistance," he asked, offering a linen handkerchief with the initials GA embroidered on the corner. Barbara snatched it from him and dabbed at her shirt. Several people in the office of Flannery Law heard the commotion and came rushing to Barbara's aid. They swept her into her private bathroom, leaving Lily standing along with the man in the hallway.

When she turned to address him, she was relieved to find he was gone. Despite their undeniable attraction, Barbara had pulverized any hope of it going any further. Lily could never face that man again.