CHAPTER 7:Trapped Between Floors

MY VAMPIRE BOSS IS SWEET ON ME

Rafe was still holding his phone when the elevator doors closed behind Posy.

His father's final words remained unpleasantly clear in his mind.

Come to the residence tomorrow evening.

An explanation postponed until tomorrow was hardly an explanation at all. Alistair Fitzgerald had spent years expecting obedience from his son, but Rafe had never been particularly fond of being told when he was permitted to know the truth.

His gaze shifted to the heart-shaped box on his desk.

Someone had left it for Posy.

Someone had used a symbol connected to his family's oldest secrets.

And his father had somehow known what it meant without offering a single useful answer.

Rafe reached for the box, then stopped.

He could deal with his family tomorrow. Tonight, he had a company to run and an intern who had probably gone home believing that a mysterious box of chocolates was the strangest thing she would encounter at work.

He hoped she was right.

His phone vibrated.

A message from Evelyn appeared on the screen.

**The security team is reviewing the footage. Posy has left the building.**

Rafe typed a brief acknowledgment and set the phone aside.

He should have returned to his work.

Instead, he found himself wondering whether Posy had remembered to buy bread for her mother.

It was an absurd thought.

He had a meeting with the board in the morning, an increasingly troublesome family situation, and a mysterious package to investigate. Yet his attention had settled on a young woman whose greatest concern that evening had been whether her younger brother would receive his promised chocolate.

Rafe leaned back in his chair.

This was becoming a problem.

***

Posy had almost reached the ground floor when she remembered the folder Evelyn had asked her to deliver to the records office before leaving.

She glanced at her phone.

The records office was only a few floors below the executive suite. If she hurried, she could drop off the folder and still catch her usual bus.

She pressed the button for the thirty-first floor, where the records office was located, and tucked the folder securely beneath her arm.

When the elevator doors opened, she stepped inside.

“Please behave tonight,” she whispered to the elevator panel. “I have a family waiting for me, and my brother is already planning what to do with his chocolate.”

The doors began to close.

A hand appeared between them.

They slid open again, revealing Rafe Fitzgerald.

Posy straightened immediately.

“Good evening, Mr. Fitzgerald. I thought you'd already gone back to your office.”

“I was on my way out.”

He stepped inside, carrying his phone and a slim leather folder.

Posy moved slightly to the side to give him room.

“I'm just delivering something to the records office. Evelyn asked me to leave it there before I go home.”

“Then I'll have you back downstairs shortly.”

She looked up at him.

“You don't need to take me. I can manage it myself.”

“I know you can.” He pressed the button for the thirty-first floor. “I'm going there anyway.”

Posy accepted the explanation with a small nod.

The doors closed.

For several seconds, the elevator moved smoothly through the building.

Then it jolted.

Posy caught the railing.

The lights flickered once, and the elevator stopped.

She looked at the floor indicator.

It displayed thirty-four.

“Oh.”

Rafe put his folder beneath his arm and pressed the emergency button.

A faint crackle came through the speaker before a technician's voice answered.

“Executive elevator three. We've received your alert. The system has registered a mechanical fault, and our team is checking the cause. Please remain inside. We should have an update shortly.”

“Understood,” Rafe replied. “Keep me informed.”

He released the button.

Posy was still holding the railing.

“Is this normal?”

“No.”

“That's what I was afraid you'd say.”

He glanced at her.

“You're not fond of elevators?”

“I like them when they move. I like them considerably less when they decide to become rooms.”

A quiet smile touched his mouth.

“That's a reasonable distinction.”

She looked at the closed doors, then at the floor indicator.

“Do you think it will take long?”

“I don't expect it to.”

Rafe took off his jacket and placed it over the railing beside him.

Posy watched him for a moment.

“You seem very calm.”

“Panicking wouldn't make the elevator move.”

“I know. I'm trying not to panic either.” She adjusted the folder beneath her arm. “I just wish I'd remembered to deliver this tomorrow.”

“You couldn't have known this would happen.”

“Still, I was looking forward to going home. Mum made biscuits yesterday, and she promised to save me the last few. If Jamie has found them, I may never forgive him.”

“Your brother sounds like a formidable opponent.”

“He's thirteen. He thinks being younger means he's allowed to get away with everything.”

“And does he?”

Posy considered the question.

“Unfortunately, he's very good at looking innocent.”

Rafe laughed under his breath.

She had spoken about her family before, but usually in passing. He found himself wanting to hear more.

“What does your mother think of your new position?”

Posy's expression brightened.

“She worries that I'm working too hard, but she's proud of me. My father would have been proud too.”

Her fingers rested against the edge of the folder.

“He died when I was sixteen. Sometimes I still catch myself wanting to tell him things, especially when something good happens. Mum does her best to keep us going, and Jamie makes her laugh when she needs it most.”

Rafe's attention remained on her.

“You must be very proud of her.”

“I am. She makes the best cakes, and she always says that if a person can make someone smile with food, they've done something worthwhile.”

“Then I can understand where you get your sweetness.”

Posy looked at him.

The words had been delivered so naturally that she needed a moment to understand them.

“Oh.”

Rafe's gaze held hers.

“Was that too much?”

“No,” she said quickly. “It's just that people don't usually say things like that to me.”

“What sort of things do they say?”

“Usually that I'm too cheerful, or that I talk to myself when I'm concentrating.”

“Do you?”

“Sometimes.” She lowered her eyes to the folder. “It helps me remember what I'm doing.”

“I see.”

He moved a little closer, looking at the folder tucked beneath her arm.

“And what were you concentrating on before the elevator stopped?”

“Remembering that I had to deliver this before leaving. Then I was thinking about biscuits. Now I'm thinking about how much I would like to be on the ground floor.”

“An impressive range of concerns.”

She smiled.

“I do try to keep myself occupied.”

The elevator gave a sudden, small shudder.

Posy lost her balance.

Rafe caught her before she could stumble, one hand steadying her waist while the other braced against the wall beside her.

The folder slipped from her arm and landed on the floor.

For a moment, Posy was pressed close against him, her hands resting against the front of his shirt.

She looked up.

Rafe was watching her.

Neither moved.

His hand remained at her waist, warm and firm through the fabric of her cardigan. Her hair brushed his collar, carrying that soft, sweet scent that had unsettled him since the day they met.

The familiar hunger stirred.

Then, as it always did around her, it quieted beneath something far more difficult to control.

He lowered his gaze to her face.

“Are you hurt?”

Posy shook her head.

“No. Thank you for catching me.”

“I'm glad.”

His voice had softened.

She became aware of how close they were and carefully stepped back. Rafe released her immediately, giving her room to straighten her cardigan.

He bent to retrieve the folder.

When he handed it to her, their fingers touched.

Posy accepted it with a small, grateful smile.

“Thank you again. I seem to have developed a habit of getting into awkward situations around you.”

“I wouldn't call this your fault.”

“Still, I hope you don't begin to think I'm incapable of using an elevator properly.”

“I've never thought that.”

She glanced up at him.

“Really?”

“Posy, I have considerably more evidence of your competence than your misfortune.”

Her smile grew.

“That's a very kind way of putting it.”

“It's also true.”

She looked down at the folder, holding it against her chest.

Rafe watched her for a moment before turning towards the control panel.

He could still feel the warmth of her where she had stood against him.

He wanted to reach for her again.

Instead, he pressed the emergency button and asked for an update.

***

The technician informed them that the elevator would remain stationary while the system was reset. A rescue team was already on its way, but it might take another fifteen minutes.

Posy settled against the side wall, careful to keep her distance from the doors.

Rafe stood nearby.

The silence was no longer quite as comfortable as it had been before he caught her.

Posy glanced at him.

“Mr. Fitzgerald, may I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“Do you ever get tired of being responsible for everything?”

He turned towards her.

“What makes you ask that?”

“You always seem to know what to do. Even when the elevator stopped, you didn't hesitate. I thought perhaps you might get tired of everyone expecting you to have an answer.”

Rafe studied her.

Most people asked him for decisions, explanations, or favors. Posy had asked whether he was tired.

“Sometimes,” he admitted.

She nodded, as though she understood.

“I think it's all right not to know what to do sometimes. My mother says that nobody can carry everything alone, even if they're very good at pretending they can.”

“Your mother sounds wise.”

“She is. She also thinks every problem can be improved with tea, so I wouldn't recommend asking her to run a company.”

“I'll keep that in mind.”

Posy laughed.

Rafe found himself smiling with her.

For a few minutes, they talked about ordinary things: her mother's baking, the strange habits of the office staff, and the fact that Rafe had never learned to bake anything more complicated than toast.

“You've never baked a cake?” Posy asked, looking genuinely surprised.

“Not successfully.”

“What happened?”

“I followed the instructions. The result was not what the instructions promised.”

“Perhaps you measured something incorrectly.”

“I measured everything precisely.”

She pressed her lips together, trying not to smile.

“Then perhaps the cake simply didn't like you.”

Rafe raised an eyebrow.

“Is that a possibility?”

“It's the only explanation I can offer without examining the evidence.”

“I'll have to remember that the next time I attempt to bake.”

“If you ever do, I can give you one of my mother's recipes.”

He looked at her.

“Would you?”

“Of course. I'd be happy to help.”

The answer came without hesitation.

For a moment, Rafe imagined Posy standing in his kitchen, her pink hair tied back with a ribbon, flour on her hands as she explained why he had measured the sugar incorrectly.

The image was so unexpectedly pleasant that he turned his attention to the elevator panel.

He was engaged to Seraphina Vale.

Posy was his employee.

And he was beginning to look forward to things that had no place in the life his family had planned for him.

***

The elevator finally shuddered back to life.

Posy gripped the railing as it began to descend, and Rafe stood beside her until the doors opened onto the ground floor.

A technician waited outside with two members of the security team.

“Mr. Fitzgerald, Miss Marin, we apologize for the inconvenience. The fault has been identified, and the elevator will remain out of service until the necessary repairs are complete.”

Rafe nodded.

“Send me the report tomorrow morning.”

“Of course, sir.”

His professional expression returned as he stepped out.

Posy followed, clutching her folder.

“Thank you for helping us,” she told the technician.

He smiled and assured her that the problem would be fixed.

Rafe glanced at her.

“Are you still planning to deliver that folder?”

“Oh!” She looked down at it. “Yes. I nearly forgot.”

“I'll have someone take it to the records office. You should go home.”

“You don't have to do that.”

“I know. But you've already stayed late, and the records office can wait until tomorrow.”

Posy hesitated before handing him the folder.

“Thank you. I hope you get home safely too, Mr. Fitzgerald.”

“I will.”

She gave him a small wave and headed towards the exit.

Rafe watched until she disappeared through the glass doors.

Then his phone rang.

His father's name appeared on the screen.

He answered.

“Have you decided to explain the package?”

“Tomorrow evening, as I told you.”

Rafe looked towards the elevator.

“Then I hope your explanation is worth the wait.”

He ended the call and slipped the phone into his pocket.

The night had been inconvenient, the elevator needed repairs, and the mystery surrounding the chocolates remained unresolved.

Yet the moment he kept returning to was not the one in which the elevator had stopped.

It was the moment Posy had looked up at him, trusting him to keep her steady.

Rafe adjusted his jacket and walked towards the exit.

He had spent years believing that control was a matter of discipline.

Now he was beginning to understand that the hardest things to control were not always the dangerous ones.

Sometimes, they were the sweetest.