CEO Gets Stuck In An Elevator With A Janitor. He Falls In Love Before They’re Rescued.
A Shift in Perspective
For a while they sat in silence, the occasional crackling of the intercom being the only sound. Julian checked his watch; thirty minutes had passed. He should have been in a meeting right now, closing a deal.
Instead, he was stuck in a metal box with a woman who smelled faintly of citrus cleaner. She didn’t seem remotely impressed by him.
“Tell me something, Julian,” Grace said suddenly.
He blinked.
“What?”
“Something real. Not business, not money. Just something about you.”
Julian hesitated. No one ever asked him things like that. After a long pause, he spoke.
“I used to play the piano.”
Grace’s eyebrows lifted.
“Seriously?”
He nodded.
“My mother was a pianist. She taught me when I was a kid.”
“Do you still play?”
Julian shook his head.
“No time.”
Grace studied him.
“That’s a shame.”
Julian wasn’t sure why, but the way she said it made something tighten in his chest. Before he could respond, the intercom crackled.
“Still working on it folks. Looks like another hour minimum.”
Julian groaned.
“Fantastic.”
Grace just stretched.
“More time to chat.”
Julian had never met anyone so unfazed by his presence. For reasons he couldn’t explain, he found himself wanting to know more about her.
“So Grace,” he said, leaning against the wall. “Tell me something real.”
She smiled.
“All right Julian, where do I start?”
For the first time in a long time, Julian Mercer found himself actually wanting to listen. He leaned his head against the cool metal wall, studying Grace as she stretched her arms over her head.
“All right,” he said, rolling his shoulders. “You wanted something real. Your turn.”
Grace tapped her chin as if considering.
“Okay. I used to be scared of thunderstorms when I was a kid.”
Julian raised an eyebrow.
“Used to be?”
She nodded.
“Yeah, but then one summer the power went out during a storm. My mom lit a bunch of candles and told me it was just the sky putting on a show. After that, I stopped being afraid.”
He found himself picturing it. A little girl staring out at the storm, watching the sky’s performance instead of cowering from it.
“That’s oddly poetic,” he admitted.
She grinned.
“I have my moments.”
The intercom crackled again. Julian braced himself for more bad news.
“Still working on it. Might be another hour, maybe more.”
Julian clenched his jaw. He wasn’t used to waiting. Every second trapped here was another wasted opportunity, another deal that could be slipping through his fingers.
“You’re really that impatient, huh?” Grace mused, watching his reaction.
He exhaled through his nose.
“Time is money.”
She tilted her head.
“Or maybe you’re just not used to slowing down.”
He shot her a look.
“You get some kind of thrill out of analyzing me?”
She smirked a little. Julian shook his head, but the corner of his mouth twitched despite himself. Grace leaned back against the wall, arms crossed.
“So tell me Mr. CEO, if you weren’t stuck in here with me, what would you be doing right now?”
“Finalizing a deal. Big one. Massive.”
“And does it make you happy?”
His lips pressed into a thin line.
“It’s business. It’s not about happiness.”
“That’s not an answer.”
He hesitated. No one had ever questioned him like this before. Business was business. Success was success. What did happiness have to do with any of it?
Grace watched him, waiting. Finally, he shrugged.
“I don’t think about it.”
She studied him for a long moment before shaking her head.
“That’s a shame.”
He frowned.
“You say that a lot.”
“Maybe because it is.”
Silence stretched between them. Julian wasn’t sure what unsettled him more: the fact that she kept challenging him, or the fact that he didn’t have good answers. After a beat, she sighed and slid down the wall to sit on the floor.
“You always this nosy?” he asked.
Grace smirked.
“You always this closed off?”
His jaw ticked.
“You think you’ve got me figured out?”
She shrugged.
“I think you work too much. I think you used to love something, maybe music, but you buried it under business. I think you spend so much time looking forward that you never stop to look around.”
Julian’s chest tightened. He didn’t like how close she was getting to something real.
“And what about you?” he countered. “You work nights, putting yourself through school, and you want to be an artist. But have you ever actually sold anything?”
Grace didn’t hesitate.
“Not yet.”
“Then why keep going?”
Her expression softened.
“Because it makes me feel alive.”
Something in Julian’s stomach twisted. He had never met anyone who spoke like that, with certainty and passion.
“Doesn’t matter if it’s practical,” she continued. “It matters that it’s mine.”
He wasn’t sure why, but he envied her in that moment. Before he could respond, the lights flickered and the elevator jerked slightly.
“Looks like they’re making progress,” Grace mused.
Julian glanced at the panel; the floor numbers were still frozen.
“Guess that means our time’s almost up,” she added.
An odd sensation settled in his chest. He should be relieved. Instead, he felt something dangerously close to disappointment.
“You know,” she said, stretching her legs out in front of her. “I hope one day you ask yourself if this is really what you want.”
She gestured vaguely at him. Julian stared at her. No one had ever spoken to him like this before. For the first time in a long time, Julian Mercer didn’t have a response.
