Free All of You by Dee Tenorio Page B

through his ears. “Kyle!”
    “What? Oh…sorry.” He pried his fingers off her and took the two steps backward he could.
    Her frown reshaped into a softer expression. He wedged himself into the corner of the car, finding small comfort in the cool mirrors at his back and even less in the decorative handrail. It was so thin it wasn’t going to do anyone any good should the car suddenly plummet to the…not a positive thought. Was it Dr. Rosen who’d said to think positively? Or Dr. Joden? He confused their psychobabble all the time. Besides, positive thinking wasn’t going to open those doors until the power came back on.
    “Does this happen often?” he asked. He didn’t think a place as image-conscious as Goesler & Groom was going to have a broken elevator for long. They wouldn’t be in there long. Five minutes, tops. Right?
    “Does what happen? Timed abductions of lawyers?”
    “Wouldn’t I have to get you out of the building to abduct you?”
    “I’m not sure. I’ll have to check with our criminal department when the doors open.”
    She didn’t sound terribly put out. He, on the other hand, could feel that cold tingling at the base of his spine. Soon, his throat would close entirely and the edges of his vision would turn black. But not before his lungs turned leaden. Air would stop coming in and then there’d be that embarrassing hyperventilating scene. If he was lucky, he’d pass out before she realized he was a frothing, lathering idiot.
    “Well, point me to your best guy.” He forced himself to keep talking. Stave off the humiliation a little longer. “This is a double ambush, as far as I’m concerned.”
    “Oh, I don’t doubt that,” Jessica grumbled, her tone dark and foreboding. Not wanting to think what that could mean for him—or for Dory—Kyle concentrated on the carpet.
    He’d read that if you focused your attention intently on one thing, breathing carefully, you could maintain your control. It was in his recent spate of reading about pregnant women, but he didn’t have a whole lot else to do. Frowning, he stared down until he could see the faint repeating pattern of the carpet loops. He focused tighter, counting the number of loops before it began to repeat.
    Amazingly, the trickle of cold sweat felt less like acid and his throat stopped squeezing itself so tight. Air swept into his lungs as he saw all the space between the loops. Tons of space. Miles and miles and miles—
    “But that doesn’t make this any less your fault.”
    The room shrunk again. “My fault?”
    “If you hadn’t been stalking me—”
    “I’m not a stalker.” Horror made him meet her gaze. Why did she look smug?
    “All Dory ever needs is an excuse. She’s impulsive and occasionally insane. You trying so hard to see me again was all the incentive she needed to try something this stupid.”
    “It’s not like she could stop the elevator. She’s just a secretary.”
    Jessica barked a laugh. “That’s like saying Stalin was just a Soviet.” He must have looked as bad as he felt at those words because she kept going. “Dory keeps Victor, the maintenance guy, on a string. He’d do anything for her.”
    “So you’re saying…”
    “We’re here for the long haul.”
    “Couldn’t let me have my hopes and dreams, could you?” he asked, for the first time wishing he’d found a woman with a slightly smaller mean streak.
    Her smile still had the effect of discombobulating his thinking. “You should really sit down. It’ll help.”
    “Help what?” Smooth, smooth. She’d never guess he was hanging on to the railing as if it were supplying his life’s blood.
    Her mouth quirked. “I had a brother once who hated small spaces. Especially elevators.”
    Just once? You mean you can trade them in somewhere? “Who said I hate small spaces?”
    “Considering you broke into a sweat the second the car stopped and you’re barely looking me in the eye, I put it together. My brother used to throw up.