Page 12 of Revenge Brunch and Other Disasters

Chapter Six: Elevators and Emotional Backlash

Linda

IT STARTED WITH a ding.

The elevator, not her brain. Her brain had started dinging about twenty minutes earlier, when she realized she’d probably danced with a man who moisturized and meant it.

Now? Now the actual elevator had arrived. She stepped in, trying to look like someone who hadn’t slept in full eyeliner and then tried to salvage it with desperation and tinted lip balm.

She pressed the button for the fifth floor.

A hand shot in before the doors could close.

Rhys.

He looked too good for a Monday. Hair tousled in a way that saidI don’t try, women just get disappointed later,and a dark gray sweater that confirmed her suspicion: he had an unfair jawline and the wardrobe to match.

“Morning,” he said, stepping in.

Linda made a noise that may have once been part of the English language.

Then: “Hey.” Cool. Calm. Probably audible.

The elevator doors closed.

Silence.

And then—because the universe hated her and so did Rhys’s face—he looked over at her and said,too casually,

“I had a good time Friday.”

Linda blinked. “With the dog?”

He laughed. “With you.”

Her brain did a triple backflip and forgot how words worked.

Then he added—quickly, too quickly— “Not that itmeantanything. I mean—it was fun, but like, office party fun. Not like,realfun. Obviously.”

Linda stared.

Rhys’s face went pale. “Wait. I didn’t mean it like that. I meant it wasdefinitelyreal fun, I just meant—”

“Got it.”

“No, I just—”

“It’s fine.”

He looked like he wanted to eat his sweater. “I’m going to stop talking now.”

“That’s probably for the best.”

A ding. The fourth floor.

She considered getting off there. Just walking out and flinging herself down the stairwell in a show of pure emotional flair. But instead, she looked straight ahead, chin up, pride barely intact.

And then.

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