One elevator. One blackout. One night to discover what's been hiding beneath their hatred all along.
Olivia Hamilton has her career mapped out, her emotions locked down, and exactly zero interest in her infuriatingly charming new colleague, Caleb Quinn. He's reckless, cocky, and has a talent for getting under her skin.
Then a city-wide blackout traps them in an elevator together.
Sixty floors up. No rescue in sight. And nowhere to hide from the tension that's been building between them since his first day.
In the dark, sharp words give way to hard truths. Armor cracks. And Olivia discovers that the man she's been fighting might be exactly what she's been running from.
Some connections can't be denied—even when you're desperately trying.
Last week. The opinion had been published last week, and she'd been in Boston for the Morrison trial, and somehow this cocky newcomer with his rolled sleeves and his unearned confidence had found the one case she'd missed.
“I'm familiar with it,” she lied, smooth as silk.
“Great.” His smile widened a fraction. He knew. “So you've already adjusted the deposition strategy to account for the reasonable person standard they established?”
Margaret leaned forward.
Olivia wanted to throw her laser pointer at his stupidly handsome face. Instead, she smiled back. “I was just getting to that.”
She wasn't. And they both knew it.
After the meeting, she found him at the coffee machine.
“That was a neat trick,” she said.
Caleb added sugar to his coffee—two packets, she noticed involuntarily. “What, reading case law? I thought that was part of the job description.”
“Showing off is also part of your job description?”
“Only when I'm trying to impress someone.” He met her eyes over the rim of his cup, and something in his expression shifted. Not quite flirting. Something more complicated.
Olivia turned away before she could figure out what. “Try impressing me with competence instead of grandstanding.”
“Where's the fun in that, Hamilton?”
She walked away, ignoring the fact that her heart was beating faster than it should. Irritation, obviously. Pure irritation, and nothing to do with the way he'd said her name.
Olivia Hamilton watched the elevator doors slide shut and seriously considered taking the stairs. Ten flights. In heels. Still better than sixty seconds of enclosed space with Caleb Quinn.
Too late. He was already leaning against the back wall, loosening his tie—because of course he was, because he couldn't just stand like a normal person. He had to look like some GQ ad for “lawyers who don't take themselves seriously.”
“Working late again, Hamilton?” His voice had that infuriating casual warmth, like they were friends. Like he hadn't completely undermined her strategy in front of the senior partners three days ago.
“Some of us don't coast on charm.” She stabbed the lobby button harder than necessary.
“Charm.” He said it like she'd given him a compliment. “That's sweet. Here I thought you'd call it something less flattering.”
The elevator hummed downward. Olivia fixed her gaze on the descending numbers and tried not to notice how the overhead light caught the edge of his jaw. Tried not to remember that moment in the conference room when he'd rolled his sleeves and she'd lost her train of thought entirely.
Then the lights flickered.
The elevator shuddered, stopped. Emergency lighting cast everything in dim amber, and Olivia's stomach dropped as the realization hit.
She was trapped. With Caleb Quinn.
“Well,” Caleb said into the sudden silence. “This is cozy.”