Elevator Kiss

Chapter 11

Amanda

Calvin wasn’t ready to admit we could be something together. Worse, a deep place in me feared he was right to. I wasn’t enough. Not for him, not for anyone. It was why I was perennially overlooked for the creative team at work, why even the world’s biggest player didn’t see me.

I closed my eyes. One more day with a role to play. I’d channel Galadriel and keep my heart intact.

We arrived at the game’s kickoff location in the bride’s hometown. Everyone except Ellen’s teenage sister had already left.

“I’m Lettie. You guys are late.” The redhead shoved a New Zealand dollar bill into my hand. “The game is Bigger or Better.” She waved away our protests. “The whole town is used to this game, so don’t feel weird asking.”

“What do we do?” Calvin asked, holding the dollar up and examining the watermark. “Pay strangers for an item?”

“Seriously? You haven’t played this?” Lettie would look beautiful in the green elf costume with the gold braid. Her long red hair was silky and straight. “You say, I have a dollar, can you give me something better? And when they do, you take that item to the next person. Say it’s a can opener. I have a can opener, can you give me something better? It’s not rocket science. Biggest or best wins. Get going.” She made shooing motions.

“Now?”

“You’re already behind. Meet back here in an hour with your final trade.” Lettie hopped on a motorized scooter. “Winner gets to not sing karaoke tomorrow at the ceremony.”

That alone was incentive. Lettie drove off.

We headed down the deserted road of the small town.

“I guess we’re playing Bigger or Better.” I snatched the dollar out of Calvin’s fingers and started striding at a fast clip.

Calvin kept close to my side, the heat of his arm radiating against mine. We headed down the road. Houses were spaced within walking distance but acres apart. The gorgeous scene helped me forget Calvin’s rejection of me last night.

“Let’s win this thing,” I said with renewed competitive nature. Veni, vidi, vici. I could go home and reclaim my boring life as a formatter and nothing more. Snort.

“Should we stop here?” He pointed at a stand of trees. “I bet no one else has.”

“Because it isn’t a house?” However, when my eyes focused, a house covered in ivy and other vines gelled into view. “Okay. But you knock.”

“Fine.” He rapped on the brown-painted, arched wooden door. It was almost like an above-ground version of a hobbit hole.

“Hello?” A very short old lady poked her gray head out the door and pushed her glasses up her nose. “May I help you?”

My throat clenched. She could’ve been Samwise Gamgee’s Old Gaffer’s wife. Her eyes were kind and sweet. “Hello. I’m Amanda, and this is Calvin. We’re Americans visiting friends who live in Arrowhead.”

“Oh, now nice.” Her voice had a sweet warble.

Calvin took over. “We have a dollar. Could you give us something better?”

Welcome to the china shop, Mr. Bull. “What Calvin means to say is—” My attempt to salvage good manners fell apart when she slammed the wooden door.

Our eyes met with a mutual wince.

“I guess she hates that game.” Calvin ran a hand down his face. “I could’ve been less direct.”

Ya think? “What should we do?” My fervor for winning the game waned to nil. “We could just present the dollar. Like losers. Although, no one wants me singing karaoke. All dogs in earshot will howl.” We kept standing on Mrs. Gaffer’s front porch bowery.

“So, does this mean you’re a cat person?” he asked. “You mentioned pets earlier.”

Testing him, yeah. “Yep. And a dog person. Even a PokerDog person. Plus a horse person. My landlord is none of the above.”

Suddenly I needed to know—beyond curiosity. It felt vital. “And you?”

“Same. Everything but ferrets.”