The Out of Order sign on the elevator has me groaning.
“Sorry about that,” Simon calls out to me from his desk. “Forgot to mention they’re doing maintenance this morning. Should be good to go by the afternoon. Everyone coming in today is in for a morning workout.” He chuckles and points toward the door leading to the stairs.
If only it were as simple as that. Walking up twelve flights of stairs might be annoying for the average person, but it’s a breathing hellscape for me. Even after my Idaho training. I haven’t taken many trips to the gym since getting back two months ago. My Bane mask is collecting dust on my shelf. My fitness level is questionable once more.
And I don’t have Dom to give me a piggyback ride this time if I get too winded.
Which I will. Because it’s twelve freaking flights.
And I’ve got a meeting at the top of those stairs in a half hour.
“Fuck,” I mutter under my breath.
Walking farther down the hallway, I tug my phone out of my pocket and pull up Pamela’s number. She answers on the second ring.
“Maddie! Are you almost here? We’re getting set up in Conference Room B.”
“Hey, Pamela. About that. How imperative is it that I attend in person?” My apartment is a fifteen-minute walk from here. A flat walk that ends with a functional elevator. I could get home and situated faster than I could get up these steps. I try not to dwell on how one technical malfunction has pretty much ruined my day. But I can still salvage things if—
“Oh no, Maddie. We need you here! You have the slides for the logistics team. And Francine even flew in this morning.” She names the CEO of the company, and I barely keep a curse to myself. Francine likes me. We’ve had good interactions. But she’s also old-school and big into the work-at-work mentality. If I try to video conference in, no matter how good the connection is, she’ll be irritated.
Enough to consider replacing me?
I breathe with my diaphragm, hand on my belly, knowing panic won’t help this situation. For a brief moment, I consider reminding Pamela about my asthma. She knows in a general sense that I have asthma. She’s seen my inhaler. But I’ve never had to use it in front of her because the most I’ve exerted myself around her is hauling my laptop bag from room to room.
Still, what would telling her help? I need to attend this meeting, and she can’t get the elevators turned on for me.
“Okay. Yes. Of course. I’ll be there.”
“Good. I’ll save you a seat.”
When we hang up, I stare at my phone screen, then switch my eyes back to the door of the stairwell. Better start now if I have a hope of making it up to the twelfth floor in time.
I really wish Dom were here.
And not just so he could carry me, although that would be nice.
What I need now is a distraction from how shitty this climb is about to be, and no one is better at claiming my attention than Dominic Perry.
On a wild hope, I pop in an earbud and dial his number.
He picks up after the first ring.
“Maddie?” Through the phone, I hear the smile in his voice.
“Hey.” I sigh in relief from the simple fact that I was able to reach him so quickly.
“What’s up? Is something wrong?”
Yes.
“No. I just have to do something tedious and annoying”—and potentially dangerous—“for the next twenty minutes or so. Are you busy? Could you entertain me?”
He chuckles, and I luxuriate in the sound. “Sure. I’ve got twenty minutes. How am I supposed to entertain you?” There’s the sound of a door closing on his end, then Dom’s voice lowers an octave. “Do you want me to describe what I’d do to you if I was with you right now?”
My heartbeat spikes and my breathing with it. Not a good idea.
“Sorry, that’s a little too entertaining.” I pull open the stairwell door and grimace at the cement steps. “Could you sing?”
“Maddie.” He groans my name and even though it’s in exasperation, I still love the sound.
“Come on,” I plead. “We both know you have a rock star voice. I won’t even set the playlist. Sing whatever you want.”
“Hmm. Whatever I want?” He pauses. “Fine. When should I start?”
I stare up at the steep stairs and set my foot on the first. “Now, please. And I’m not going to be able to talk while I’m doing my tedious task, so you just keep going until I tell you I’m done.” I mute myself, so he doesn’t hear me when the inevitable panting starts.
“This sounds like a prank. But I’m trusting you, Sanderson.” Dom clears his throat. Then the amazing man starts singing “Death of a Bachelor.”
Of course. Josh loved the angry punk girl music, but Dom always leaned into the emo boy bands. In high school, he tried to comb his dark hair over his forehead and eyes like Brendon Urie and Gerard Way, but the strands constantly curled in a charming swoop.
I guess he continued to listen to his favorite band throughout the years.
I start my climb with a smile.
But inevitably it melts to a grimace, and eventually my mouth merely sags open as I pant. Dom’s voice helps take my mind off the tightening in my chest, but no matter how amazing his serenading is, he can’t sing breath into my lungs.
On the seventh floor, I’m forced to sit down and take a puff of my inhaler. As I give my lungs a break and listen to Dom sing more Panic! At the Disco, a guy in a suit literally jogs up the stairs, passing me by with barely a glance.
His ease taunts me, but I push my envy to the side as I rise to my feet again.
Fifteen minutes until my meeting and five more flights.
Dom moves on to “High Hopes,” and it’s like he knows exactly the boost I need.
When I reach the floor The Redford Team offices live on, I’m gasping but still breathing, and I’ve got five minutes to try and regain my composure before walking into the conference room. Before exiting the staircase, I unmute my phone.
“Hey,” I wheeze, my throat expelling words like a punctured balloon. I wince at the tell, and Dom’s abrupt change in tone.
“Maddie?” No more playful singing. “You sound out of breath.”
I cough out a chuckle, glad he’s not here to see how flushed and damp my face is. Good thing I wore black today, because I can feel sweat pooling in my pits.
“I’m fine.” My voice sounds a touch better. Not much, though, and Dom can tell.
“What did you just do?”
“It’s okay. Just, the elevator is broken at my office. I had to climb some steps.” Look at that. Managing multiple sentences. I’m basically good as new. I check the time on my phone. Three minutes till the meeting. “Thank you—”
“How many floors?” His voice is ice. No more of the humor and crooning beauty of his singing.
“Not too many.” I hold the phone away as I drag in another ragged breath, then press it back to my ear. “I’ve got to get to a meeting. You were great. Thank you.”
“Maddie—”
“Love you! Bye!”
Only once I hang up do I realize what I just yelled at Dom to hurry him off the phone.
Oh god. Oh no.
Did I just tell Dom that I love him?
The panicked thought sticks with me as I hustle through the Redford workspace to Conference Room B. Luckily, someone decided to get this catered, and most everyone is too busy pouring themselves coffee and spreading cream cheese on bagels to notice I arrived with less than a minute to spare, looking like death dragged me up the stairs.
He won’t think I meant it. He can’t. It wasn’t a real confession of love. Just a casual sign-off.
“Maddie,” Pamela calls from across the room as she adds her third packet of sugar to her coffee. “Why don’t you hook your computer up to the monitor so we can start this off with a look at the numbers?”
I nod and reach for the projector remote, both annoyed at my boss for mandating that I be here and grateful that she’s given me something to focus on other than the words I accidentally spoke to a man who takes everything in life extremely seriously.
The meeting drags on all morning. It’s not a pointless gathering, but the length could have been halved if my coworkers didn’t enjoy hearing themselves talk so much. After my boss’s boss says the same thing in a different way for the tenth time, I’m ready to toss him out the twelfth-story window and make him hike up all those stairs in hopes he’ll be too winded to keep filling this conference room with his coffee breath and self-important chatter.
But I can’t defenestrate a man just because he’s annoying. I can’t even sarcastically mock him the way I would Dom or Jeremy or Tula if they were bothering me this much. No, at work I must maintain my cheerful, helpful persona. The version of Maddie that has a smile for everyone and is a team player. The one who laughs at jokes even if the person has no idea what comedic timing is. The Maddie who quietly listens to coworkers complain about the most mundane things they could fix in five minutes.
The people at Redford call me sweet, and charming, and helpful.
They also say I’m necessary, and a lifesaver, and irreplaceable.
Without the first list of adjectives, I doubt I’d hang on to the second. And without the second, my job security would be shaky.
So I keep my little annoyances to myself. Like having to climb up twelve flights of stairs when I have chronic asthma.
Finally, just before noon, my superiors land on a solution to the issue, and we’re able to disperse. After collapsing into the chair at a free cubical, I slip my phone out of the pocket of my pants, which look like they’re made of a dressy material but are just fitted sweatpants in disguise. Throughout the meeting my phone buzzed a few times, and I read over my text messages now.
Dom: Call me when you get out of your meeting.
Dom: Or if you get taken to the hospital after climbing twelve flights of stairs.
Dom: And don’t try lying about the number. I went to Redford’s website, and it says what floor you’re on.
Adam: Hey! I’m at lunch with Dom and he’s being a growly dick! Food isn’t helping!!! He keeps glaring at his phone. Did something happen on your last trip?
I sigh and tap Dom’s name. Then I press my fingers against my lips, trying to smooth away the smile that automatically spreads at the thought of hearing his voice.
“Maddie.” He says my name with a chiding growl when he picks up.
“Dominic.” I deepen my voice, mocking his tone, and enjoy the relief at this quick moment of being myself after a morning of false smiles.
“How are you doing?” His tone has less censure this time, and I bet if I were in front of him, I’d catch the hint of a smile.
I hum a nonsense noise and press my chair into a slow spin. “Ready for lunch.”
“I meant your breathing.”
“Been doing it all morning. Don’t plan to stop now.”
“You shouldn’t have had to climb all those stairs. It’s bullshit.”
The curse makes me smile wider. “Adam was right. You are growly today.”
“You two talk about me?” Now he sounds extra grumpy, which just has me wanting to tease him more.
“Only all the time. Dom this, Dom that. We have no lives outside of our Dominic Perry fan club. Adam is arranging our annual conference in your honor. I’m in charge of the swag. I’m thinking shirtless blow-up dolls that look like you.”
“Maddie,” he huffs. “You can’t say stuff like that.”
“Why not? Saying stuff like that is ninety percent of my personality.”
“Because when you go on nonsense tangents at my expense, I want to kiss you. Then fuck you until all you can say is my name.”
“Dom!” I gasp.
“Just like that.” He grunts. “And now I’m hard at my desk.”
“That is entirely your fault. And here’s your boner killer. What do I say to Adam?”
“What do you mean?”
My gut churns, and I have a flashback to that motel in Delaware where I threw up what felt like my entire soul when Dom rebuffed me after I kissed him.
“He asked if something happened on our last trip. And we both know something happened.” You said you wanted me in your perfect future. “I just want to know what we’re telling people.”
And I need you to be the one to pick the words.
There’s a pause on the other end of the line and dread liquifies my bones until I slip out of my chair and settle under my desk. I really wish I weren’t in a cubical right now. Luckily, the office has mostly emptied out for the lunch hour.
Finally, Dom speaks. “I want you, Maddie. In every way I can have you. As your boyfriend. Your partner. Whatever you want to call us. But it needs to be just you and me. Monogamous. I’m yours. Only yours.” His inhale is heavy and audible. “Are you mine?”
Warmth starts in my chest, then spreads through every one of my limbs, regrowing all my bones until I’m ready to get up and start dancing. Or at least crawl out from under my desk.
“Uh, yes. Okay. Sure,” I say, starting to frown at my inability to speak like a mature adult. “I mean, I’ve got to say yes, right? I’d lose my membership to the Dominic Perry fan club if I didn’t.”
His laugh is a ragged growl. “You’re adorable. And frustrating.”
“I think what you meant to say was gorgeous and intriguing.”
“Cute and aggravating.”
“Effervescent and captivating.”
“All those,” he relents. “Plus, sexy as fuck.”
The way he speaks the irresponsible word in his deep, tantalizing voice is too much for midday on a Monday. Plus, I just agreed to be his, and my mind is struggling to come to terms with that fact.
And trying not to panic.
I need a moment without his sinful voice in my ear to process these last five minutes of conversation.
“Glad we agree,” I chirp. “Love you! Bye!”
I hang up.
Then gape at my phone.
I said it again. We went through that whole conversation without acknowledging my slipup, and then I said it. Again.
With a groan, I toss my phone across my desk before burying my head in my arms.