Eileen Hughes had to work even later than usual. She wasn't happy about it. It wasn't the first time and wouldn't be the last. It was a fact of life for a junior associate that had only recently passed the bar. Junior associates weren't allowed a life. It was an unspoken and unwritten firm policy. She was the last one in the office when she left a little after ten. She was tired and hungry. She just wanted to get home, have a glass of wine and something to eat. Then she'd get some sleep and drag herself back to the grind of legal research the next morning. She'd be expected by eight, though the office didn't open until nine.
With luck, the short walk to the subway near the Diamond District would be uneventful. The apartment she shared with three other young women she barely knew, on Grand Concourse, was across the street from a subway station. Her roommates were all nurses. They worked odd hours and weekends, so she saw little of them. Their schedules rarely jived. Besides, they had lives.
The fact that Saturday was Valentine's Day never entered Eileen's mind. It was just another day. She wasn't seeing anyone. There wasn't even anyone that interested her. Certainly not any of the self-absorbed, ego-maniacs that she worked for and with.
There was one associate she liked. The rest were tolerable at best. Most of the other female associates were as hyper-competitive as the male associates. The partners rarely interacted with junior associates. Office politics were unceasingly cutthroat. Her team lead was a talented attorney and a good leader. He'd been with the firm three years and had recently been elevated to senior associate. He was already on the partnership track, if you could believe the office scuttlebutt. He treated the people he worked with like they were fellow human beings. He asked rather than ordered when he gave an assignment. He said thank you when a task was completed. He listened to ideas and suggestions. He knew he didn't have all the answers. He was respectful with secretaries and paralegals. He was married and acted like it. Other associates, especially those that had been around longer, hated him.
Eileen waited impatiently for the elevator. Odds were, it was coming from the ground floor. The building was almost always empty this time of day. The bonded cleaning crew was out of her firm's offices before nine. She never saw any other cleaning crews. The security guard left the front desk at eight. Anyone that had to enter or leave the building after hours used a security card.
The elevator was empty when it finally arrived. Eileen got on, pushed the G button and put down her briefcase. She let her hair down as elevator descended. It felt good to remove the clips that held her hair in a tight, conservative bun. She wore eyeglasses with heavy, dark frames that were too big for her face to downplay her attractiveness. She didn't even need glasses. She took them off and put them in a pocket on her purse. The conservative pin-striped charcoal gray business suit Eileen wore was almost masculine, though the skirt that ended below her knees didn't hide nicely-shaped calves or a svelte, feminine figure when she took off the jacket.
The elevator had only gone a couple floors when it stopped. A man got on and nodded at her. He looked to be about thirty. Eileen made eye contact but didn't return the nod. He looked at the console briefly, then leaned against the back wall when he saw the G button was already illuminated. He drew in a deep breath and sighed.
Eileen thought he was kind of cute though she was a little put off by his appearance. His dark hair was clean but long and shaggy. He had several days growth of beard. He wore round wire-rimmed glasses. His clothing was casual. His overall appearance bordered on unkempt. He carried a leather backpack that looked like it had been around since the Civil War. He was tall and wiry, at least eight inches taller than her five-nine. He reminded her of a photo of her father taken in the late sixties. Eileen wondered if he even worked in the building.
The elevator jerked and stopped. The lights blinked several times and then went out. Eileen and the man stood, in the dark, silent for a moment, before Eileen swore under her breath. 'Shit, I don't need this tonight,' she said without thinking.
'Crap,' the man said. 'It's already been a long day. I want to go home.'
Something heavy hit floor. Eileen both heard it and felt it under her feet. 'What was that?' she asked.
'My bag,' the man said. 'My computer and a stack of books I need are in it. It's too heavy to just stand here with it if we're not going anywhere.'
Eileen groped for the console and picked up the phone. She'd been told during new-hire orientation that it would connect to someone at the security company twenty-four-seven. She held it to her ear. It was silent. She held it to her ear for several minutes, but nothing happened. 'Phone's dead,' she muttered in frustration.
Eileen rummaged in her purse and took out her cell phone. The man took his out, too. They cursed in unison when neither had service. Eileen dialed 911 anyway but the phone just displayed 'No mobile network available.' They had no way to contact the outside world. And no way to know how long they'd be stuck there.
Eileen heard the man take off his coat and slide down the wall, landing on the floor with a soft thud. 'Might as well get comfortable,' he said.
Even though it was dark, Eileen was reluctant to sit on the floor. Her skirt would ride up her legs, potentially exposing more of her than she felt comfortable with. She took off her shoes, glad to finally be out of the heels. She needed to find her cross-trainers or get a new pair. She still couldn't believe she lost them somewhere.
'My name is Thaddeus, but everyone calls me Tad,' the man said. He had an accent that was slightly different from what Eileen typically heard around the city.
Eileen hesitated before finally saying, 'Eileen.'
'I'd normally say it's nice to meet you, Eileen. But frankly, this sucks.'
Eileen laughed involuntarily. 'I can't argue with that,' she responded. 'Do you work in the building, Tad?'
'Yes. At Tomkins and Barrett. I'm a geologist,' he answered. 'You?'
'Yes,' Eileen answered, reluctant to elaborate further.
'You're an attorney,' Tad said. It wasn't a question.
'Have we met somewhere?' Eileen didn't remember ever seeing Tad before he got on the elevator
'No, but I've seen you. The suit, briefcase, your usual hairdo, and the eyeglasses you wear scream lawyer,' he answered. 'You don't need the eyeglasses, do you?'
Eileen was getting a little nervous. Tad was a little more forward than she liked and didn't seem to have a filter. He said what he thought. Damn the consequences. 'Why do you think I don't need eyeglasses?'
'I was standing behind you a while back. I could see through your right lens. There was no distortion,' he answered. 'I understand. My sister does the same thing. She feels it makes the people she works with take her more seriously. She's an attorney, too. She looks just like you when she goes to work. Well, she dresses like you.'
'I don't remember ever seeing you before, Tad.'
'I don't normally look like this. I just got back this afternoon. I've been in the field for almost three weeks. I normally come to work in business casual. In my business, that's the equivalent of a three-piece suit,' Tad said. 'I'm usually clean shaven when I'm at the office. I don't like shaving with cold water.'
Eileen felt she could relax a little. Tad wasn't an ogre and didn't seem dangerous. Perhaps a little eccentric. Eileen's feet were beginning to itch. She'd been standing in one place for a while. Shifting her weight between feet wasn't helping.
'Why don't you sit, Eileen? Who knows how long we'll be here? You might as well try to get comfortable.'
'I'm okay.' Eileen answered.
'No, you're not. I can feel you shifting your weight between feet. They're bothering you from standing in one spot. Sit. I promise I won't look up your skirt. Besides, it couldn't see anything if I tried. It's pitch-black in here.'
Eileen thought about sitting for a moment. Tad was right. She couldn't see her own hand in front of her face. She took off her overcoat and laid it on the floor. She hiked her skirt up and sat on the coat. The coat provided some cushion, but the floor was still hard, and the position wasn't very lady-like in a skirt. But at least her feet felt better.
