She was pretty. Wore a blue dress that shimmered like a waterfall. It looked a little chilly for this time of year, but it pulled out the blue of her eyes. Golden blonde hair, piled up, with a few escaped curls framing her face.
    Okay, very pretty. “Going to a party?”
    She nodded, her jaw a little tight.
    The elevator jerked as it started to ascend, and she grabbed the railing.
    “You okay?”
    “I’m fine,” she said after a tiny gasp, a swallow. “Statistically, an elevator has a zero-point-zero-zero-zero-two chance of getting stuck.”
    The lift smoothed out as it ascended. “That’s one in every five thousand,” she added.
    He quirked a smile. “Yep. I think we’ll make it.”
    He turned his back to the panel and stared out the window. What a view. He’d visited the Century just after it opened, when they were choosing a meeting space for this year’s event. But he’d taken a service elevator to the top. This was a much better choice.
    The city dropped below him, an array of bright lights against dark sky, and overhead, the moon puddled light across the skyline. From the top, the metropolitan spread turned glorious with the glitter off the Mississippi River and the dazzling lights of the Stone Arch Bridge at St. Anthony Falls.
    The perfect setting for him to wow his father with his proposal for expansion. The hotel and water park he had planned for Deep Haven would win over the board—he knew it.
    The elevator jerked again, and even he reached out to steady himself.
    Behind him, the woman helped and stumbled backward. He turned just in time to catch her, using both hands to steady her as he grabbed her arms.
    She caught her hand on his arm. “Sorry—sorry!” She gave a tiny, high, and maybe a little terrified laugh.
    “What’s that math again?” He smiled at her and had to amend himself once more. No, not just really pretty. She was a knockout. Curves, and the dress clung to every one them, and a shapely mouth, not too much makeup, but enough to pull out her high, almost regal cheekbones.
    He sort of wished he was going to her party.
    “Thanks,” she said, and when she smiled, something happened to his insides.
    Or maybe it was just the jerk of the elevator. It hiccupped again, and this time he braced his hand on the glass as the woman fell against him.
    “These stupid shoes!” she said, but she sounded almost near tears.
    He wanted to argue that maybe it wasn’t the shoes—
    The elevator shuddered, and just like that, dropped.