Stuck

Jaxon glanced at his wristwatch for what felt like the hundredth time, and this time, his patience snapped. It was already past 7 p.m. He started pacing in front of her desk, his eyes darting to the restroom door every time he passed it.

Finally, the door creaked open, and Isla emerged, softly sniffing. Her head was bowed, and she didn’t notice him standing there until she nearly reached her desk.

Her breath hitched as her gaze lifted, meeting his. “Mr. Jaxon…” she murmured, quickly smoothing the sadness from her expression.

Without a word, Jaxon stepped closer, and Isla found herself frozen in place, as though his presence commanded her feet to stay rooted.

He stopped mere inches away, his intense stare forcing her to lower her eyes. Her heart raced in her chest.

“Is this your new strategy for staying late at work?” he asked, his tone sharp.

Isla’s brows knitted together as she shook her head. “No, of course not,” she said. She glanced up at him briefly before looking away. “I didn’t realize how late it had gotten. I’ll leave now.”

She brushed past him and returned to her desk, hurriedly gathering her things. Jaxon said nothing, watching her scramble to pack up, before turning and heading back to his office. He grabbed his briefcase—he’d been ready to leave over thirty minutes ago.

By the time he returned to the hallway, Isla was still fumbling with her belongings. She noticed him lingering by his door and hastened her pace, slinging her tote bag over her shoulder.

“I’ll leave now,” she said softly, giving him a slight bow before making her way to the elevator.

Jaxon followed a few steps behind, his gaze fixed on her as she walked. He couldn’t quite understand why he felt so concerned or why he desperately wanted her to open up to him about what made her cry so hard.

When they reached the elevator, Isla pressed the button, and the doors slid open. She stepped inside and glanced back, waiting for Jaxon to join her.

‘Did he really wait for me to finish in the restroom? Won’t he be late for the company dinner?’ she wondered as he entered the elevator and took his place beside her. ‘How do I tell him I don’t feel like going? I’m really not in the mood for a party.’

“Are you still going to the dinner?” Jaxon’s question interrupted her thoughts, his eyes fixed on the elevator doors.

“Huh?” Isla blinked in surprise, as though he’d read her mind. She fumbled for an answer, but before she could speak, he turned to face her, and she swallowed hard under his gaze.

“I…” she stammered, “It’s the company dinner. I should be there.”

“There’s no rule saying you have to go,” he replied, shaking his head. “If you don’t want to, you can stay back.”

“Really?” Her eyebrows shot up in surprise.

Jaxon’s lips twitched into a faint smile as he nodded.

Before either could say more, a sudden loud screech filled the elevator, and the floor beneath them jerked violently. The jolt sent both of them off balance.

The elevator tilted sharply to the left, slamming Jaxon against the wall. Isla lost her footing and fell toward him, colliding against his body.

“I’m so sorry!” she gasped, wincing as the elevator swung again, throwing them to the right.

Jaxon acted quickly, grabbing Isla and pulling her close. He twisted his body, taking the brunt of the impact as his back hit the wall.

Then, just as suddenly as it started, the chaos stopped. The elevator went pitch black, plunging them into silence.

Isla clung tightly to Jaxon, her eyes squeezed shut as her rapid breaths filled the confined space. Her head was buried in his chest, and her trembling body vibrated against him with every shaky exhale.

“Are you alright?” Jaxon asked, his voice low and soothing. He gently ran a hand over her hair, an attempt to calm her.

The sensation snapped Isla back to reality. Her eyes flew open, and she lifted her head, startled. “I’m so sorry,” she muttered, starting to pull away.

But Jaxon’s arms didn’t loosen immediately. “It’s dark,” he said simply, reaching into his pocket.

He fished out his phone, only to find the screen cracked from the earlier jolt. Still, it was functional enough to turn on the flashlight, casting a steady beam of light across the cramped elevator.

“You can move now,” he said softly, letting go of her.

As Isla stepped back, the light revealed the contents of her tote bag strewn across the elevator floor. She crouched down, frantically gathering her belongings, her hands shaking slightly.

“Are we stuck?” Her voice was laced with apprehension as she looked around, brushing stray strands of hair from her face.

“I guess so,” Jaxon replied, his expression calm despite the situation. His steady gaze followed her movements, but his mind was already thinking of a solution. 

Jaxon bent down to retrieve his briefcase, which had slid across the floor during the chaos. “I could’ve sworn they said maintenance was done today,” he muttered, his frustration evident. “I’ll call for help.”

Isla nodded silently, her focus on gathering her scattered belongings.

Pulling out his phone, Jaxon frowned as he noticed the signal bars were empty. “No reception,” he said flatly. “Can you try yours?”

Isla quickly reached for her phone, still lying on the floor. She pressed the power button repeatedly, but the screen remained blank. Letting out a frustrated sigh, she kept trying. “It’s not coming on,” she said, her voice trembling.

“The battery must’ve shifted when it hit the ground,” Jaxon guessed. “We’ll have to wait it out until morning. Alex might come back to check if he can’t reach me.”

Isla froze at his words, clutching her tote bag tightly against her chest. Her breathing quickened, and she shook her head vehemently. “I... I can’t stay in here,” she stammered, her voice breaking.

Jaxon straightened, his brows furrowing. “We have to stay calm—”

“I can’t!” she interrupted, panic lacing her tone. She pressed a hand to her chest, her fingers clawing at the fabric of her blouse as though trying to free herself. “I feel like I’m choking... I can’t breathe!”

Jaxon’s eyes widened in sudden understanding. ‘She’s claustrophobic.’

He stepped closer, his voice soft. “Isla, listen to me. Look at me.”

Her panicked gaze darted to his, tears pooling in her eyes as her chest heaved.

“Breathe,” Jaxon said softly, standing in front of her. His voice was steady, his presence grounding. “Take a deep breath.” He reached out, gently placing his hands over her trembling ones. “I’m here. You’re not alone.”

Isla tried to avoid his gaze, but he leaned closer, stopping her. “I need you to keep looking at me, Isla,” he said, his tone low and reassuring. “I know this is scary, but we’ll get through it together.”

She swallowed hard and gave a small nod, her back slowly sliding down the elevator doors as she sank to the floor. Jaxon followed her, lowering himself to sit in front of her. He placed his phone on the ground, its flashlight angled upward to illuminate the space.

Keeping his hand on hers, he maintained steady eye contact. “Do you want a candy?” he asked suddenly, his voice light.

Isla blinked, startled out of her panic. “A candy?” she echoed, her brows furrowing in surprise.

Jaxon grinned, the corner of his mouth lifting in a way she hadn’t seen before. “I know I don’t look like it, but I’m a sucker for sweets. I always have some with me.” Still smiling, he reached for his briefcase with his free hand, not letting go of hers.

Isla’s gaze followed his movements as he rummaged through the briefcase. A soft smile crept onto her lips as she watched him. She’d never seen this side of Jaxon—the playful, almost childlike part of him. And that smile… it was so different from his usual composed demeanor.

Finally, Jaxon retrieved a handful of colorful candies from an inner pocket and poured them onto the floor between them. Picking one up, he carefully peeled it for her.

As he leaned closer to offer her the candy, Isla’s eyes caught the faint line of red on his temple. “You’re hurt,” she said in concern, her hand instinctively reaching toward the cut.

But Jaxon stopped her with a firm yet gentle gesture. “Don’t worry about me. I’m fine,” he assured her, holding the unwrapped candy to her lips instead.

Isla hesitated for a moment before leaning forward to take it, her lips brushing his finger ever so slightly.

Jaxon’s jaw tightened at the contact, and he quickly withdrew his hand, clearing his throat. “How are you feeling now?”

“Better,” Isla replied softly, her voice steadying as she chewed on the candy. “Thank you, Mr. Jaxon.”

He nodded, a faint smile tugging at his lips. Pulling a blue handkerchief from his breast pocket, he carefully dabbed at the cut on his temple, ignoring the sting. 

“You’re sweaty. The heat’s going to stick around for a bit before it starts to cool,” he said, undoing the top buttons of his shirt for some relief.

Isla’s eyes darted away, her jaw clenching as she tried not to look at the glimpse of his chest. She grabbed another candy and busied herself peeling its wrapper.

‘I’m stuck in an elevator with claustrophobia and my ridiculously hot boss, who is sweating but somehow still looks insanely attractive. What else could possibly go wrong?’