Page 156 of Fifty First Times (Sharing You 0.40)
“But,” she adds, waggling her eyebrows. “That doesn’t mean he’s not still hot and you still got to hook up with him and you still have to tell me all.” She never was very good at staying serious for long. I smile, because she’s made me feel marginally better and because I need to be alone, which means convincing her that I’m okay.
“How about this,” I offer. “You distract everyone and give me a chance to sneak out of here, and I’ll tell you everything you want to know over brunch tomorrow.”
“We have work tomorrow,” she reminds me.
“Well, I plan on taking the day off,” I tell her. “And maybe the day after as well.”
She la
ughs. “You’re just breaking all sorts of rules these days, aren’t you?” She reaches for the door and looks back at me. “You sure you’ll be okay?”
I nod. “Positive.”
“All the details—you’re answering every one of my questions tomorrow.”
“Promise.”
With a mischievous glint to her eyes she steps out into the hall. “Just give me five minutes and then take the stairs down two levels—you can catch one of the other elevators there and make it down without being seen.” I nod, not bothering to tell her that there’s no way in hell I’m stepping on another elevator this evening.
IT TAKES ALMOST an hour for me to climb down sixty flights of stairs but I’m fine with that. I’d prefer to give everyone else in the building a chance to clear out before I get there and I quickly fall into a rhythm, my bare feet padding against the concrete steps. That and my breathing are the only sounds quietly echoing through the empty stairwell.
I spend the time trying to figure out how I’m feeling. Embarrassed. Angry. Mortified. I think again of what I must have looked like when the elevator doors opened, and my stomach clenches. How in the world am I going to face everyone again?
Especially Kauffman. I groan even thinking about it. I can’t believe I hooked up with his son. There’s no way I’m getting an offer after that.
When I reach the first floor of the stairwell, I tug on the door out into the main lobby. It doesn’t budge. I knock. Nothing. Sighing, I drop my head, banging my forehead against the door in frustration. I just want this day to end!
Resigned, I trudge down the final few sets of stairs until I reach the emergency exit. I push against it, expecting to hear the piercing wail of an alarm, but thankfully the door isn’t armed. My relief is short-lived the moment I step outside.
A gust of rain-soaked wind hits me full in the face. Of course, I think. It’s still storming and the closest umbrella is sixty floors up, so with no other option, I tug Russell’s shirt on over my own and start making my way down the water slicked sidewalk, glad that the apartment Sarah and I are sharing for the summer is only a quarter of a mile away.
I’m drenched almost instantly, but at this point, who cares? It’s late enough at night that the streets are practically empty and there’s a certain loveliness to the way the city lights blur in the wet darkness.
I’m barely a block away when I hear someone call my name. I look over my shoulder to find Russell charging toward me through the rain. If possible, he’s more drenched than I am, causing the firm T-shirt he’s wearing to mold perfectly to his chest. Even sopping wet, he looks amazing.
I don’t bother stopping. “Hey! MacKenzie, wait up,” he shouts, picking up speed.
The moment he reaches my side I turn to face him. “Here,” I say, yanking off his shirt and thrusting it toward him. “Just take it.”
He looks at it, frowning, and then back up at me. “That’s not why I’m here,” he says.
I say nothing, just turn and continue down the street. “I talked to my dad,” he says, trotting after. “I told him that none of this was your fault and that if he didn’t give you a job because of it, I’d never speak with him again.”
I keep walking, still not responding. Of course, the moment I hit the corner, the light changes, forcing me to stop. “Listen, MacKenzie—” he starts, but I cut him off.
“Was I just a way for you to get back at your dad?” I ask. His eyes go wide. “You know, hooking up with the intern he’s obviously got the hots for, just to prove you can get what he never will? A power play?”
He sputters, and thankfully the light turns back to green. I start across the street, but he grabs my hand. He’s stronger than I am, but I know that if I were to try to pull free, he’d let me go.
It’s unfair the way the rain courses across the planes of his face, highlighting the sharpness of his cheekbones. The tenderness of his lips. No one should look that good sopping wet.
“First you think I’m hooking up with you while on my way to pick up some other woman for a date,” he says. “And then you think I hooked up with you just to get back at my father?” Scowling, I tug my hand back and start walking. “You don’t have a very high opinion of yourself,” he calls after me.
I spin around, ready to go tell him to fuck himself, but he’s closed the distance between us. Before I can say anything, he starts talking. “You made me laugh. When those guys didn’t hold the elevator and you called them assholes—right then I wanted to know more about you.”
He reaches a hand toward my face, but doesn’t touch me. My traitorous body begs to sway toward him but I hold myself rigid.
“Do you have any idea what you look like when you’re angry?” he asks. When I say nothing he continues, “You have no idea, do you? The kind of fire you have in your eyes?”
