The Billionaire's One

1. Minute One of Knowing

I raise my eyes to meet his.

"If this starts to fall and we have to lie down, I mean," he continues.

I nod. "And save our spinal cords."

His head angles and he looks thoughtful. "Well, lying down does help to spread the impact through your body and safeguard your spine." His eyes shift and he nods to the number fifteen. "At this height, however, with the momentum that the elevator would gain, it's entirely possible that the finer bones in your body will suffer some damage; even your ribs. A small price to pay for your life, I suppose."

Incredulity widens my eyes a little. The fact that he just told me an interesting fact, so casually, immensely adds to his attractiveness, in my eyes.

I raise an eyebrow. "What are you? A doctor?"

Modern Clark Kent's smile widens. "Yeah."

My finger stops.

His eyes cut to my hand momentarily before looking back at me.

I exhale, audibly. "Well then, I'd say you're probably about the second-best person to be stuck in an elevator with."

"The first being?" he asks.

"An elevator mechanic."

The doctor laughs, the cadence of his voice ever-present, even in his laugh. "I can't argue with that logic."

I drum my fingers against the metal bar, inadvertently looking back up at the number fifteen.

"On second thought, you're about third best person."

He's amused. "Who replaced me?"

"An engineer."

He shakes his head. "Curse the day I didn't decide to choose a more universally useful profession, huh?" he asks, jovially.

I'm laughing before I even know it.

He's smiling at me.

When my laughter dies down, he straightens himself, drawing himself to his full height. I'm five-foot-eight and I have to angle my head up to look at him. A steady hand outstretches and a step is taken in my direction. "I'm Elliot."

I remove my hand from the bar and put it in his. "Doctor Elliot?" I confirm.

Doctor Elliot chuckles. "Doctor Elliot," he confirms with a nod.

"I'm Aurora," I say, shaking his hand, "Not Doctor Aurora, though."

"Not even Sleeping Beauty Aurora?"

I roll my eyes. "Never got that one before."

Elliot releases my hand after a firm, gentle squeeze and takes a step back.

"Your accent," he says, making me look at him, "I can hear the difference from mine. Where are you from?"

"I'm from Andrusia," I tell him.

Elliot nods, knowingly. "I've never been, but I've heard good things. What brings you to a stalled elevator of the Eastport Marriott?"

"A graphic design conference," I reply.

"I've seen the signs for that. So, you're Graphic Designer Aurora."

"Well, technically, I'm Content Developer Aurora, but I do have a degree in graphic design." As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I feel quite inadequate, telling a doctor that I have a degree in graphic design. I could tell him that it was my minor and that my major was in digital marketing, but what is even the point?