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barely know you." She raised an eyebrow
skeptically, her whole attitude one of disbelief.
    "I know what you said about me," she shot at him.
    "Excuse me?"
    "You heard."
    Genuinely baffled, Jack raised his hands in the air, palms up. "I have
no idea what you're talking about. I have better things to do than
spend my spare time hanging around talking about you." That got her!
The color was back in her cheeks, and she glared at him fiercely.
    "You called me prissy! So don't you dare stand there pulling that Mr.
Innocent act," she hissed at him. Jack frowned. What the hell was she
going on about? He'd been speaking the truth when he said that he
didn't spend his time sitting around talking about her.
    "Sorry, but I think you've got that wrong, lady," he said bluntly.
    "Really? We'll just have to ask my good friend Katherine Kirk when we
get out of here then, won't we?" Although his expression didn't change,
Jack felt a moment of doubt. Now that she mentioned it, he could
vaguely remember having a beer with Katherine some time ago after work.
He'd just had a run-in with Claire in an editorial meeting and come out
second best….
    He made a mental note to thank Katherine for dumping him in it.
    Claire was waiting for his response, hands on her hips.
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    "Well? What do you have to say to that?"
    He shrugged. He'd said it, might as well own it. It wasn't as though it
wasn't true. "Prissy might have been overstating it. You can be pretty
anal, though."
    She made a hissing sound, kind of like a kettle about to blow its top,
then opened her mouth to retaliate just as the phone rang. They both
jumped, startled. Praying this was good news, he reached for the
receiver with alacrity.
    "Hello?" he asked, feeling her eyes on him, sensing her hopes, like his own, beginning to rise at this contact.
    "This is Ted Evans from Security. I'm making contact to ascertain the
exact number of persons in lift number six," an officious voice asked.
    "Well, Ted, there are two of us, and we'd sure as hell love to get out
of here." Claire made an exasperated noise that he guessed was supposed
to signal her wholehearted agreement.
    "Two. Right. Well, uh— Who am I talking to?"
    "Jack. Jack Brook."
    "Right. Jack. You're the one with the red Porsche, yeah? Nice little
number," Ted said, his tone all male appreciation. "It's an early 2002
model, right? The one with tiptronic transmission? Very nice." Jack
reined in his frustration. This guy didn't seem to have a real tight
grasp on the urgency of their situation.
    "About the elevator, Ted," he hinted.
    He glanced up as Claire shifted restlessly, a frown creasing her
forehead as she no doubt wondered what was going on. He could imagine
her reaction if he told her Ted wanted to talk cars.
    "Well, we've got a bit of a situation here, Jack. There's been a major
power blackout across this whole part of town—something about a fire at
the power plant—and most of the building's services have shut down.
Air-conditioning, security systems, elevators. You know." Jack rolled
his eyes. Claire shook her head with confusion.
    "What's going on?" she asked.
    He tried to look reassuring as he returned his attention to Ted.
    "So there are other people stuck in elevators?"
    "Sure are. Only two of the twelve cars were empty. Elevator four has ten people in it," Ted reported with relish.
    Jack grimaced. Ten people would make for a cozy lift compartment. Thank God it was just him and Page 23

    Claire. Out of the corner of his eye, he noted her frown deepening. On
second thoughts, maybe a cozy, friendly elevator wasn't such a bad
option….
    "So how long are we talking here? Half an hour? Ten minutes? What?" he asked, deciding it was time to force Ted to the point.
    "Can't tell you that just yet. We've contacted the manufacturer, and
they're sending a team out." Jack tried to control the sinking
sensation in his gut.
    "So…we could be talking hours here," he said reluctantly. He could feel
Claire stiffen even though she was