“Hold the elevator!”

Juggling a cardboard drink holder full of soft drinks and a big bag of fast food, Lori made a halfhearted try to hit the hold elevator button. First day of family vacation and she was already exhausted. Jaime thrusted a hand through the closing door. He bustled into the elevator with a rolling suitcase, a messenger bag, and a large pink stuffed bunny.

Making room, Lori moved over. She sniffed. The elevator stirred to life, rising. The man smelled of cedar wood. Lori on the other hand reeked of French fries. He had a nice profile, she thought, with dark brown hair tumbled from the wind. If he was hers she give a hat a skull cap. Lori pictured herself on tippy toes putting her imagined hat on his head as he held her waist.

“Cold night, isn’t it,” Jaime said.

“Yes, just awful.”

Jaime punched in his floor. She’s hot he thought, like really beautiful without trying . Quickly his eyes roamed down her ripeness. Then Jaime realized he was being a perv and punched his floor button again. He watched his sneakers intensely. The elevator trembled.

“I’ve never liked elevators. What do they call them … sky coffins. I always imagine plummeting down down down,” Lori said without knowing why. “Yet they kind of thrill me.”

She didn’t talk to strangers. She hated chit chat and polite pleasantries, preferring the inside of her own head. Something made her want to talk to this man not small talk real talk sharing. Lori had agreed to go out for food just to have a little quiet. She’d driven slowly dreading returning to her noisy hotel room. Now she wanted words, his words. The elevator whirred beneath their feet. They looked at one another.

“Elevators rarely fall. They have two kinds of brakes holding the cars,” Jaime said as something inside him shifted. “No but I get it. Elevators are weird places.”

“You mean like Dressed to Kill weird,” Lori said playfully.

Her smile melted him.

“Like an in between space. Where you are moving but not moving. Going up or going down,” he said. “Not really anywhere—I don’t know what I’m saying.”

“No don’t do that. Don’t get in your head and doubt yourself. I understand. It is a space where anything could happen,” she replied.

Ding. The elevator stopped on Jaime’s floor. The doors opened to a hallway of patterned carpet and rows of closed hotel doors. They saw each other. The elevator dinged as the doors began to close. Jaime shook the possibilities for his head and stepped out. His family was waiting for him. He started to walk. Lori watched his nape, the set of his shoulders, the way his back moved, as he walked away. Stopping, Jaime turned to look back at Lori. The elevator slid its doors closed.