Elevator to Success

Evan Butler was everything one would need in an employee. He was devilishly handsome, driven, and had a fierce intelligence that could outsmart just about anyone in the state of New England; or at least, that’s how he saw himself. Fresh out of Duke University, the young man was more than ready to step into the business world and create a name for himself that soon anyone worth knowing would recognize. Why not start by applying for the prestigious Luxley Hotels, a multi-million dollar company that gave temporary housing to the most admired celebrities. Evan, dressed in his expensive suit and tie, his hair slicked back and face cleanly shaven, had been given the opportunity for an interview with none other than the CEO of the company himself. 

He entered the building and smiled greedily at the marble floors and matte black interior. It reeked of success, and he was itching to be a part of it. With a smirk on his face, he strolled first to the coffee stand located in the lobby. He had to be alert in order to impress his soon to be boss. 

“How may I serve-?” 

“Coffee. Black.” Evan’s sharp voice quickly overcame the barista. 

“Yes sir, your total will be one dollar and seven cents.” Nonchalantly the Duke graduate tossed his card and began scrolling through his e-mails. A few moments passed and suddenly the barista’s face was struck with quite an uncomfortable expression. 

“Er, sir, I’m sorry to tell you this, but uh, your card… it keeps saying error. Perhaps you have another, or cash?” By now a line was forming. Evan’s face turned red and he became angry.

“That’s impossible, try it again.”

“I’m so sorry sir, I’ve tried it multiple times-“

“Try it again, damn it.” The card was swiped once more, and once more, there was a message across the screen reading ERROR. 

“I can spot you if you’d like,” came a light voice thick with a Southern accent. Outraged, Evan spun around and looked down at a small woman with the most outrageous curls he had ever seen. Disgusted that she assumed he was broke, he shot her a look, turned back to the now petrified barista, and grumbled, “Forget it.”

Outraged and embarrassed, Evan sent an angry text to his father (who was busy playing golf in West Palm Beach) and came upon the elevators. He stepped inside, pressed level ten, and took a deep breath. Just as the doors were closing, he heard that same familiar Southern accent from the coffee stand yelling, “Hold the door please!”. Thinking quickly, he lunged towards the buttons and rapidly began pressing the CLOSE DOOR one, praying it would close fast enough so he would not have to breathe the same air as her. Just when everything seemed alright, a leg popped through, causing the black and marble doors to slide open to reveal the grinning woman. “Whew, that was close! Thanks for the help.” Evan shot a pained smile and looked straight ahead. “Oh, would you look at that, we’re going to the same floor!” 

“Lovely,” Evan grumbled. The elevator began to climb. This has to be the slowest elevator in existence, he thought miserably. 

“I’m Catherine, by the way,” the curly-headed woman said cheerfully.

“Evan Butler.” He watched her expression change slightly, but brushed it off. They were on floor eight. Two more. 

“Are you from here?”

God, who makes small talk on an elevator?

“No, I’m from Maine.” 

“Oh awesome! I’m from Tennessee, born and raised.” Evan wrinkled his nose. That explains the awful accent. Floor nine. One more. 

Just as the screen above the buttons read ten, there was a horrendous screeching noise and the elevator gave a tremendous jolt. They both clung to the bar surrounding the small room, trying not to be thrown off balance. The lights flickered for a moment then suddenly… darkness. There was a silence before Catherine spoke: “Uh oh, looks like we’re stuck.” Heart racing from fear, Evan tried desperately to remain calm.

“Stuck? What do you mean stuck?” 

“I’m sure it’s something that can be fixed soon!” 

“You don’t know that!” The panic began to rise in his voice. 

“Technically you’re right, but I’ve been in this building long enough to know the elevators can be unreliable sometimes.” The lights came back on. “Ah, that must be the backup generator.”

“So we’re not trapped?”

“Not trapped in the dark!” she exclaimed amusedly. Evan ran his hand through his hair anxiously and was aware of his palms sweating. Catherine seemed to noticed and narrowed her thick brows in concern. “It’s okay to be nervous, I’m a bit claustrophobic myself.” The rage reentered him.

“Woman, I am not nervous!” he snapped. She nodded understandingly, holding back a grin. They both stood there for a few minutes in silence. She’s finally shut up. Now that she was not talking and was occupied with her phone, he began to observe her to distract himself. He simply could not get over her hair; it was wild, unkempt even, with frizzy dirty blonde curls. She wore a light blue pant suit that did not flatter her figure at all. He was certain if he met her at a bar that she would be the last woman he noticed. He preferred the curvaceous platinum blondes with a handful of braincells that were just looking for a good time. Not an inch of makeup covered her face except for bright red lipstick and she had bushy brows complimenting round brown eyes. A few more minutes passed and he noticed she kept checking her watch. 

“Got somewhere important to be?” he scoffed. She looked up and smiled.

“I guess you could say that.”

“What, delivering mail to the boss? Or, let me guess, cleaning his office?” To Evan’s surprise, she kept smiling. 

“Sort of, actually. What about you?” He chuckled, ready to impress her.

“I have an interview with the CEO, actually. I don’t really need it, but he told me it was a prerequisite for the job.”

“Oh did he, now?” He hinted a bit of sarcasm and felt the heat return to his face. 

“Yes. He did.” Still smiling, she reached into her purse and returned with lipstick and began reapplying. 

“I think you’re really going to like him. I heard he’s quite the character,” she said before running a finger along the corner of her mouth, picking up any extra red. In that moment there was another jolt. Evan clutched the sides once more, feeling fear rise in his chest again. The elevator dinged. 

“Is it over?” Catherine remained silent. “Hey! Is it over?” he repeated. For once he was desperate to hear that accent of hers. The doors opened and felt a wave of relief wash over him and he jumped in front of her, ready to get out. There was a crowd of employees standing by the door, all looking concerned. He straightened his tie before stepping in front of them. Finally, my kind of people. 

“My name is Evan Butler and-“

“Miss Luxley, are you alright?” Miss who? He whipped around as the crowd flooded Catherine. 

“Quit frettin’, John. It was simply a power outage. I even made a friend.” All eyes turned to Evan, who no longer wanted the attention now that he knew the truth. He had not known the name of the CEO he was being interviewed by; he simply assumed it was a man. Catherine stared at him with her fierce brown eyes that he now cowered at. His heart sank to his stomach as he recalled everything he had said to her since their introduction. The smile remained on her face, now seemingly laced with poison. 

“No need to come to my office today, Mr. Butler. I’m in no mood for interviews. Have a blessed day!”