The Elevator – Part 2: The Doors Open

The engineers took fifty-two minutes. By then, Rhea had learned that Omar hummed Umm Kulthum under his breath when he was thinking, that he had a scar on his left eyebrow from a cricket match at school, and that he thought her library design was the most interesting thing he had seen in a year.

"You're blushing," said Omar, from the corner, where he had been sitting on the floor with his back against the wall for the last half hour.

"It's hot in here."

"It's the air conditioning. It's been off for an hour."

"Then it's you," said Rhea, and he laughed, and she realised that she had not stopped smiling since the lift stalled.

When the doors finally shuddered open onto the fifteenth floor, the corridor was full of relieved office workers and a maintenance man with a clipboard. Rhea gathered her drawings and stood up, and her knees wobbled slightly from sitting for so long.

Omar stood too, and held out a hand to steady her.

"Thank you," said Rhea.

"Any time." He didn't let go immediately. "Rhea, can I ask you something before we walk out?"

"Yes."

"Would you like to have a coffee with me? Not in a lift. Somewhere with windows and no emergency stop button."

"Yes," said Rhea, her voice steady. "But only if you bring the drawings. I need someone to tell me the stairs are wrong again."

"The stairs are wrong," said Omar, instantly. "Very wrong. I'll bring a pen."

She laughed, and he grinned, and the maintenance man cleared his throat loudly from the corridor.

They walked out together, past the staring office workers, into the glass lobby and the hot golden afternoon outside. The sea shimmered at the end of the road.

"Green?" he asked, quietly, as they reached the revolving doors.

"Green," said Rhea. Then, with a sudden rush of courage: "Can I kiss you? Right now, before the doors spin us apart?"

"Yes," said Omar. "And if you want to stop, I'll stand here and let you walk away."

"I won't want to stop."

He leaned in, slowly, and kissed her. It was quick and warm and a little bit surprised, the kind of kiss that belonged to a stuck lift and a long afternoon. When they parted, both of them were breathless, and the revolving door had already spun them a quarter turn to the left.

"Coffee," said Omar, grinning. "And the stairs."

"And the stairs," agreed Rhea, and stepped out into the sunshine with her drawings under one arm and his hand in hers.