Page 40 of The Associate
"Yes, it was," she replied, her voice quiet but steady.
Samuel nodded, ready to turn, to flee into the night and just forget the whole thing. But before he could, Penny’s grip on his hand tightened, just slightly.
"Would you like to have coffee next week?"
He blinked, his brain scrambling to process the shift. Confusion must have been written plainly across his face because a faint smirk touched her lips, the first hint of genuine humor he’d seen all night.
"As friends," she clarified, her voice gentle. "One could always use another friend, right?"
Friend.
A real smile broke through Samuel’s nerves, easing the tightness in his chest. The frantic energy that had hummed in his veins all night, the dread, the panic, the shock, finally stilled, leaving behind a strange, tentative peace.
"I would love to," he whispered.
Chapter 10
Samuel
The workday had bled out into the hushed quiet that settled over the sixteenth floor after six PM. Samuel packed his bag with deliberate care, his movements slow to avoid drawing any last-minute attention. He’d perfected the art of the invisible exit over the past week, slipping out like a shadow when the coast was clear of one particular, looming presence.
The hallway was empty, the only light spilling from the exit signs. He pressed the call button once he reached the elevator. When the doors slid open, he took a half-step forward, his mind already on the subway ride home.
Then he saw him.
Wise stood in the center of the elevator, one hand in the pocket of his tailored overcoat. His head was up, his dark eyes already fixed on the opening doors, and by extension, on Samuel, who had frozen on the threshold.
Their gazes locked.
A jolt, sharp and cold, shot through Samuel’s system. His heart stuttered, then began hammering a frantic, uneven rhythm against his ribs. For one long second, his body went rigid withthe instinct to retreat. To let the doors close, to take the stairs, twenty flights be damned, to do anything but step into that steel box withhim.
The memory of their last elevator encounter flashed behind his eyes. The skin at his nape prickled as if touched by that same ghost of warmth.
His luck, it seemed, was finally spent.
Gael didn’t move. Didn’t speak. He simply stood there, his eyes holding Samuel’s with an unnerving focus. The air in the corridor felt thin. Samuel could hear the faint buzz of the fluorescent light overhead, the distant whir of a printer in another suite.
He gulped. The sound was dry and loud in his own throat. His mind was a blank screen of panic. To turn and walk away now would be an admission. A confession of fear so profound it would be more telling than anything that could happen inside the elevator.
He gave a minute, almost imperceptible shake of his head and stepped fully into the elevator.
He turned his back immediately.
The doors slid shut.
Samuel held himself rigid, a statue in a cheap suit. But his body was a live wire. His hearing strained, parsing every tiny sound. The rustle of Gabriel’s coat as he shifted his weight, a small, dry sound of fabric. A slow, controlled exhale that wasn’t his own. The softclickof a phone screen going dark.
The fine hairs on his arms and the back of his neck rose, one by one, in helpless, primal attention.
Then, without warning, the world lurched.
The elevator gave a violent, shuddering jerk. The light overhead flickered, stuttered, then held steady at a dimmer, sickly yellow. The hum of descent cut off.
Samuel’s mind blanked.
A malfunction. A temporary glitch. It would correct itself. Any second.
The silence held. Two seconds. Three.
