look. Just like a woman, he thought. If there’s one thing they hate it’s criticism.
“I’m hot,” Lucky complained. “How long have we been here now?”
Steven peered at his watch. “About two hours.”
“Two hours! Christ! At this rate we’ll be here till morning.”
“Probably.”
“Is that all you can say—probably? I mean, there must be
some
way out of here.”
“Tell me about it.”
“Shit! You really are a pain in the ass.”
They lapsed into silence.
Lucky could not stand the silence. It was bad enough being stuck in some pitch-black box suspended who knew how many levels above ground. But why oh why did it have to be with some idiot?
“What’s your name?” she asked.
“Steven Berkely.”
“Mine’s Lucky.”
“You could have fooled me.”
“I mean my name is Lucky. L - U - C - K - Y. Get it?”
He wished she would shut up and then maybe he could fall asleep and not wake up until morning and certain rescue.
“Oh, God! I can’t stand this!” She stood up and hammered with her fists on the side of the elevator. “Help!” she screamed. “Help! Hello, out there! We’re trapped in the elevator! Help!”
“It won’t do you any good,” Steven drawled laconically. “There’s no one up here to hear you.”
“How do
you
know?”
“It’s late. No one around.”
“Bullshit! How can you possibly make a statement like that?
You’re
here, aren’t you?
I’m
here. The building could be full of people.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Oh,
you
wouldn’t.”
The heat was becoming oppressive. Steven had already taken off his jacket and loosened his tie, but the sweat was pouring off him. He wondered if Aileen was worried. But why should she be worried? They didn’t have a date, did they?
“Is anyone expecting you?” he asked.
“Huh?”
“Do you have a date tonight? Will anyone be concerned when you don’t turn up?”
Now that was a
good
question. Hmmm…. How to answer…, No date, just a prowl around a few singles bars. No one to care whether she turned up or not. “What makes you think I’m not married?”
“You don’t sound married.”
“Oh? And what does married sound like?”
“Not like you.”
“Very enigmatic. And you? Are you married?”
“Divorced.”
“Ha! Couldn’t cut it, huh?”
He swallowed a rude reply. This woman was getting on his nerves.
“Well?” she taunted.
“I’m going to try and sleep,” he said tightly. “I suggest you do the same.”
“Sleep! In this sweat box? Are you serious?”
“Yes, I’m serious.”
She decided to turn him on, anything to pass the time. “I’ve got a better idea.”
“What?”
“Why don’t we fuck?”
Her question hung in the air. He didn’t reply.
“Well?” she questioned boldly.
“I thought,” he said slowly, “when this elevator first stopped, that your main concern in life was keeping me away from you.”
“Sure. I didn’t know you then. Now we’re old friends.”
“I don’t believe you!”
“So believe me. I’m twenty-seven years old, not bad looking, good body. C’mon, Steven whoever-you-are, it’ll be
great
, I promise you that.”
“Are you a hooker?”
She began to laugh. “A hooker? Oh, boy!”
“You sure sound like one.”
“Oh, I see. Any female who wants to fuck is a hooker. You’re one of the old school, huh? A nice old-fashioned gent who likes his ladies
real
conventional.”
“I think you need help.”
“Ha!
You’re
the one with the hang-ups.” She paused, grinning to herself in the dark. “So you don’t want to fuck then?”
“No. I certainly don’t.”
“Are you gay?”
“No I’m not.”
“Then you’re unusual. Most guys offered a free piece would jump at the opportunity.”
“I’m not most guys. Besides, I think you should know that I’m black.”
She laughed derisively. “What difference does that make?”
“Well, lady”—his voice was uptight—“I wouldn’t like you to get a big shock when the lights
“I’m hot,” Lucky complained. “How long have we been here now?”
Steven peered at his watch. “About two hours.”
“Two hours! Christ! At this rate we’ll be here till morning.”
“Probably.”
“Is that all you can say—probably? I mean, there must be
some
way out of here.”
“Tell me about it.”
“Shit! You really are a pain in the ass.”
They lapsed into silence.
Lucky could not stand the silence. It was bad enough being stuck in some pitch-black box suspended who knew how many levels above ground. But why oh why did it have to be with some idiot?
“What’s your name?” she asked.
“Steven Berkely.”
“Mine’s Lucky.”
“You could have fooled me.”
“I mean my name is Lucky. L - U - C - K - Y. Get it?”
He wished she would shut up and then maybe he could fall asleep and not wake up until morning and certain rescue.
“Oh, God! I can’t stand this!” She stood up and hammered with her fists on the side of the elevator. “Help!” she screamed. “Help! Hello, out there! We’re trapped in the elevator! Help!”
“It won’t do you any good,” Steven drawled laconically. “There’s no one up here to hear you.”
“How do
you
know?”
“It’s late. No one around.”
“Bullshit! How can you possibly make a statement like that?
You’re
here, aren’t you?
I’m
here. The building could be full of people.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Oh,
you
wouldn’t.”
The heat was becoming oppressive. Steven had already taken off his jacket and loosened his tie, but the sweat was pouring off him. He wondered if Aileen was worried. But why should she be worried? They didn’t have a date, did they?
“Is anyone expecting you?” he asked.
“Huh?”
“Do you have a date tonight? Will anyone be concerned when you don’t turn up?”
Now that was a
good
question. Hmmm…. How to answer…, No date, just a prowl around a few singles bars. No one to care whether she turned up or not. “What makes you think I’m not married?”
“You don’t sound married.”
“Oh? And what does married sound like?”
“Not like you.”
“Very enigmatic. And you? Are you married?”
“Divorced.”
“Ha! Couldn’t cut it, huh?”
He swallowed a rude reply. This woman was getting on his nerves.
“Well?” she taunted.
“I’m going to try and sleep,” he said tightly. “I suggest you do the same.”
“Sleep! In this sweat box? Are you serious?”
“Yes, I’m serious.”
She decided to turn him on, anything to pass the time. “I’ve got a better idea.”
“What?”
“Why don’t we fuck?”
Her question hung in the air. He didn’t reply.
“Well?” she questioned boldly.
“I thought,” he said slowly, “when this elevator first stopped, that your main concern in life was keeping me away from you.”
“Sure. I didn’t know you then. Now we’re old friends.”
“I don’t believe you!”
“So believe me. I’m twenty-seven years old, not bad looking, good body. C’mon, Steven whoever-you-are, it’ll be
great
, I promise you that.”
“Are you a hooker?”
She began to laugh. “A hooker? Oh, boy!”
“You sure sound like one.”
“Oh, I see. Any female who wants to fuck is a hooker. You’re one of the old school, huh? A nice old-fashioned gent who likes his ladies
real
conventional.”
“I think you need help.”
“Ha!
You’re
the one with the hang-ups.” She paused, grinning to herself in the dark. “So you don’t want to fuck then?”
“No. I certainly don’t.”
“Are you gay?”
“No I’m not.”
“Then you’re unusual. Most guys offered a free piece would jump at the opportunity.”
“I’m not most guys. Besides, I think you should know that I’m black.”
She laughed derisively. “What difference does that make?”
“Well, lady”—his voice was uptight—“I wouldn’t like you to get a big shock when the lights
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