Page 28 of Up In Flames

Oren

S imon was the kind of boss that had a door on his office, but it was never closed.

Well, almost never. It had closed about fifteen minutes ago when Hal was called in there, and it hadn’t opened up again.

I tried not to pay too much attention to it, but it was strange for Simon’s door to close.

He took most of his client meetings in the nearby conference room.

Probably because, even with the invention of technology, his office tended to quickly drown in stacks of files.

Waiting for Hal to reappear was like waiting for the teacher to come back into class after stepping out to talk to the principal. I did my best to keep myself on task, but after thirty minutes, I started to wonder if they were talking or if they had a secret office affair going on.

The door swung open and Hal, completely composed, not a hair out of place or a wrinkle in his clothes, came over to me.

“Simon wants to see you.” There must have been something on my face that gave my apprehension away because Hal dropped a hand onto my shoulder and gave it a supportive squeeze. “It’s fine. I promise.”

“Famous last words.” I stood and crossed the room, slipping into Simon’s office with a knock on the door frame.

“Come in, Oren. Shut the door if you wouldn’t mind.”

Oh, shit.

I closed the door and tried not to panic, but this felt an awful lot like being hauled into the principal’s office and being told you weren’t in trouble only for them to ask a million questions to try to get you in trouble.

I’d been a bit of an asshole as a kid, but there was no reason for me to be worried now.

I came to work, I did my job, I went home.

Most of the time, I went home. Sometimes I stayed late because Will was working late and working kept me from worrying too much about him.

“Have a seat.”

I lowered myself into one of the chairs that sat across from his desk and waited for Simon to drop the blade of the guillotine. Me, dramatic? Never.

He kept his gaze trained on his computer screen for a few moments as he clicked away on the keyboard. “You’ve been with us for how long now, Oren?”

“A few months. Maybe half a year.”

“That’s right.” Simon turned his attention to me, and I did my best not to shrink under the weight of his gaze. “I don’t want it to go to your head or anything, but you’ve exceeded our expectations.”

“I have?” The shred of approval allowed oxygen to enter my lungs again. The tension I’d carried in here unspooled and I was able to relax.

“You work hard. You put in extra hours. Hours that are strictly unnecessary but haven’t gone unnoticed. And the work you’ve done is top notch. I realize our branch of law isn’t always the most thrilling, and I’ve lost talent to other more exciting types of practice before.”

“I have no plans to leave, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Simon grinned at me. “I should hope not. But, nevertheless, I’m going to give you a raise just to ensure we don’t lose you.”

Simon gave me a number that made my head spin.

“Are you sure?”

He responded by arching an eyebrow.

“Right, of course you’re sure. Sorry. I just—back in law school, I had to work twice as hard as my friends to get the same results.

They’re gone now, but they’d have loved this.

” I cleared my throat and managed to push my emotions away before I succumbed to them and ended up a babbling mess on Simon’s floor.

“But for the record, Simon, I like contract law. I don’t want to jump ship to more exciting things like criminal trials or family court. I never wanted to be some kind of hot shot personal injury lawyer or anything.”

“What did you want?” Simon asked, obviously intrigued.

“I’m afraid the answer is simple. I wanted to not be dead fucking broke. I had nothing growing up, and after being paraded around in court for a few years because of shitty, no-show parents, I noticed the fancy lawyers never had holes in their shoes.”

“And yet you don’t want to go into family law?”

“Hell, no. Nope. No thank you. The system is broken, but they’re going to have to call on someone else to fix it. I barely made it out alive the first time.”

“For what it’s worth, I’m glad you don’t want to go into family law. That means I might keep you around for a while yet.”

“I plan to stay for as long as you’ll let me. I hope my admission to that fact won’t affect any future raises you might want to give me.”

Simon shook his head. Smirking, he motioned to the door.

“Get out of my office. Your raise will take effect retroactively to the beginning of the month. Now go close some loopholes or something. Oh, before you go, Klein brought in a few interns to work on his special project. I need you to do a favor for me.”

The firm’s senior partner, Adam Klein, wanted all their archived cases digitized.

They’d been in business together for decades and many of their old cases were stored in dusty boxes in the basement.

Even as organized as it was, having everything digitized would make searching for things easier. But it was going to be a hell of a job.

“Klein was going to show them the way to the records room, but he’s been called away. The interns are waiting in conference room B, which has been cleared for them to use. Can you show them the records room and get them started?”

“I’ll head down now and get them on it.”

“I appreciate that.”

“Thanks for the raise,” I said, then I slipped out of his office, leaving the door open.

I made a quick stop by my desk and grabbed my key card. The records room in the basement was kept secure with an electronic lock.

I led the three eager interns, first-year college students by the look of their fresh faces, on a quick office tour. Showing them where the lunchroom was, the bathrooms, Klein’s office, all the important places.

I took them down the stairs to the basement and buzzed us into the archives. The records room was a maze of boxes. The storage system was imperfect, but I knew I’d find the oldest records at the back.

“Are you working from oldest to most recent?” I asked, because that’s how I’d do it.

“We thought that would be fine,” the one named Shera said. She seemed to be the leader of their little pack, and the other two were willing to follow her. My chest constricted as I remembered Rita. She’d have liked Shera.

I grabbed a cart and loaded it full of boxes, sneezing at the amount of dust that billowed off of the boxes.

If not for the raise, I might have complained about the task.

It was below my pay grade, that was for sure, but who better for the shit job than the new guy.

The interns loaded up the other two carts.

“Will we need to get you every time we want to get into the records room?” Shera asked. “That seems like an inefficient use of your time.”

“I’ll talk to Simon and see about getting you an access card.” Anything to get me away from the dusty records room and away from the basement.

The basement was my least favorite place in the building.

It was used for storage, meaning no one was ever down here.

The lights were on, but every sound echoed down the empty hallways.

Instead of carpet, the floors were tile.

The click of my shoes on the floor reminded me of a horror movie.

The wheels of the cart added to the aesthetic, wobbling and squeaking all the way to the elevator.

The elevator that went to the basement was an old piece of machinery, dating back to when the building was first been constructed. I couldn’t say that I was entirely pleased to take it up a few floors, but it beat lugging a box at a time up and down the stairs.

“We’ll go up first with this cart and then you two follow. Remember, conference room B.”

I thought about taking the stairs back up to the fourth floor, but I didn’t want to look foolish in front of a bunch of interns.

It was a short elevator ride. I could manage.

The doors of the small box whooshed open, and I pushed the cart in first. There wasn’t a lot of room with the cart in the elevator with us, but at least I wasn’t going to be in there with two carts.

I hit the button for my floor, then the button to close the doors. I kept my eyes on the number above the door, each floor that ticked away decreased my anxiety. Somewhere after the light flicked to indicate we were on the third floor, a terrible noise shook the elevator. It came to a stop.

“Fuck,” Shera said.

And then nothing.

Nothing at all. I hit the buttons on the panel, desperate to get it to move, but it was useless. The elevator was fucking stuck. And I was stuck inside it.

Trapped.

Trapped without my cell phone because I’d left it on my desk up on the fourth floor.

I kept it in my desk to alleviate some of the temptation to constantly text Will.

We both tried to respect the other’s work schedule, only sending the odd message when it was important.

From here on out, though, I was never going anywhere without my phone.

“My phone isn’t getting reception in here.” Shera raised her cell above her head, trying to find a signal. She quickly gave up. “I’m sending a text, hoping my phone will grab a signal and it can get out.”

All wasn’t lost, though. Despite the rock in my throat and the sudden tightness in my chest, I managed to keep my head long enough to press the button with a phone on it. The call was answered on the second ring, connecting me with building security.

“Hi, yes, this is Oren Reid. I work on the fourth floor. I’m stuck in elevator B between the third and fourth floors. Please tell me there’s a magic button I can press to get this thing moving again.”

“How many people are in the elevator with you, Mr. Reid?” On the other end of the phone I heard the telltale clack of fingers on a keyboard. Hopefully that meant help was on the way.

“Just me and one other.”

“Do you require medical attention?”

“No.” Not yet, I thought. But I kept that to myself. The last thing I wanted to do was cause undue alarm about my wellbeing. I might feel like I was going to die, but I was definitely safe. Maybe.

Hopefully.

“We’re okay,” I repeated, though I was suddenly breathless and light-headed. I leaned against the cart for support, not trusting my legs to keep me vertical.

“Mr. Reid, can you press the button to open the doors? Sometimes that’s all it takes to get the elevators moving again. Press and hold for at least five seconds.”

Each agonizing second was punctuated with me mentally chanting please in my head. Please fucking open. Please don’t be fucking stuck. Please work.

Nothing.

“Nothing.”

“Okay. That’s fine. I’ll see if I can get them open from this end. Just be calm. You’re safe.”

Safe. Sure. I was safe. There was no big deal about being stuck between floors in a tin can with no cell phone. It wasn’t at all the same as being trapped in a—nope. I wasn’t going to let myself go down that road. I needed a distraction.

“Mr. Reid?” the speaker said again. “I’ve tried to get you moving again remotely, but I’m afraid that nothing has worked.”

“There was a big sound right before it got stuck.” Panic pricked at my skin, making it erupt in goosebumps. My stomach cramped in a way that threatened my demise, like eating before swimming.

“I’ve alerted emergency services. Do you require medical attention?”

“No, I’m fine.” I looked to Shera and asked if she was okay, too.

She nodded her head, though she rocked back and forth on the balls of her feet.

“We’re okay. We’re fine.” I wasn’t fine, but I wasn’t hurt.

“I’m okay. Just a little claustrophobic.

” I sank down onto the floor, put my head between my knees and tried my best to breathe.