Patrick had not said anything like that in twelve years. They were words he used to say every day as a matter of routine, but never so routine that they were not sincere. But something about this woman and the palpable love he could see in her eyes and hear in her voice made it impossible not to make comment. She appeared different from the women he knew.
And a very long way from the women he bedded. She was cute and beautiful, not unlike a china doll. His women were not fragile like that.
And her love for her unborn children was special. It was something Patrick very much appreciated.
Claudia felt her stance stiffen again and her expression become quite strained. His accent was cultured and, with her own English upbringing and resultant class-consciousness, she suspected he had more than likely experienced a privileged boarding school education. His clothes were high end designer. She knew he must have an ulterior motive. All men did. There were a handful of people she had met in the year since she’d left London to make Hollywood her home who had shown a level of genuine kindness but she doubted this man would join those ranks. In fact, she doubted that any man would ever again join that group. Her desired demeanour was defensive and with little effort she reached it. No man was going to get within a mile of her or, more particularly, her children with any line. She had told herself that she had finished with men and all of their agendas. And she decided to prove it to herself.
Her first step would be keeping this man, albeit a very attractive man, at arm’s length. Perhaps even offside.
‘You really should refrain from eavesdropping; it’s rude,’ she said before turning her attention back to the blank gunmetal doors. There—it was done! She had stood up for herself and it brought her a sense of empowerment.
It had been a long time coming and she conceded her ire was directed towards the wrong man but she had finally felt strong enough to say something. And it felt good. As if she was claiming her power back.
But the elevator didn’t feel good or seem to have any power. It seemed to be slowing and, for want of a better word in her head, since she didn’t particularly like confined spaces, it seemed to be struggling in its descent. She wished it would pick up speed and get her out of the awkward situation. Deep down inside, she knew her response had been overly dramatic and cutting but she was still proud she had found the strength to do it. There were only another fifteen floors and she hoped the elevator would reach the ground before he handed her a business card and she discovered the reason he’d struck up the conversation. Insurance, investment or even real estate. There had to be something behind the smile. Since she was so heavily pregnant, she felt very confident it was not going to segue into a pick-up line.
With her chin lifted slightly, she felt the colour rising in her cheeks; she played with her small pearl earrings the way she always did when she was nervous.
Patrick considered her in silence for a moment as he watched her fidget with the small pearl studs. He had made an uncharacteristic effort to acknowledge her pregnancy and he was taken back at her disparaging remark. He hadn’t expected it as she had appeared at first glance to be very sweet. Her pretty face was framed with dark curls and he thought she had an innocence about her. He hadn’t foreseen her reaction and to his mind he definitely did not deserve the harsh retort. He wasn’t going to take it on the chin.
Without making eye contact as he stared at the same gunmetal door, he decided to answer her abrupt reply with one equally insensitive. ‘I think you’re the rude one here. You enter a lift, or should I say elevator, due to our location, with only one other person, that being me, and begin a conversation with your unborn children, for which I did not judge you to be mad, but in fact complimented you, and then you remark that I’m rude for making a comment.’
Claudia was surprised by his formal and acerbic rebuttal. His response had been articulate and he had not raised his voice but she wasn’t in the mood to eat humble pie. Men, or rather one man, had just let her down very badly and she wasn’t going to break her promise to herself. They were all the same if they were given the opportunity. And she had no intention of ever giving a man such an opportunity with her again.
With her eyes facing straight ahead at their shared focal point, she was about to reply when she was stopped by a twinge in her stomach. Her body stiffened with the pain and she hunched a little, almost protectively.
She knew it couldn’t be a contraction. It was too early. One hand instinctively reached for her babies and her stomach suddenly felt hard to her touch. She was grateful the stranger was looking away as she leant a little on the elevator wall. She told herself it must be the Braxton Hicks contractions that her obstetrician had mentioned but it seemed to be quite intense and more than a little painful.
It passed quite quickly and finally, after catching her breath, she replied, ‘I think it was obvious I was having a private conversation. And clearly you are judging me, by implying that I’m mad. That’s hardly a nice thing to say to someone you don’t know.’
‘You’re right,’ he responded and turned to face her. ‘I concede it was less than polite but you have to agree that you most definitely left your manners back up on the thirty-fourth floor.’ He looked away as he finished his tersely delivered response and checked for mobile phone reception.
By his abrupt tone and the fact he had noticed which floor she lived on, Claudia looked out of the corner of her eyes at him and wondered for a moment if he was a lawyer. Lawyers always paid attention to details that the general public ignored. Of course, she thought, she would have the slowest ride to the ground with an overbearing man with a legal background. She dropped her chin a little but not to admire her middle; instead she looked tentatively across the elevator to where the man stood. He was wearing highly polished shoes. Slightly raising her chin, she noted his perfectly pressed charcoal-grey slacks and finally, with her head turned a little more in his direction as she gave in to her curiosity, she saw his crisp white shirt and jacket. She had thought initially that he was wearing a suit but on closer, but not too obvious, inspection, she could see flecked threads in the weave. And then there was his expensive Swiss watch. Not forgetting the fact he was already in the elevator when she’d entered, which meant he either lived, or had a client, on the only floor above her. The penthouse on the thirty-fifth floor.
Suddenly she felt another twinge. She wanted to get out of the lift and get to her obstetric appointment immediately. She didn’t want to be dragged into a conversation.
‘I apologise—I’m sorry,’ she returned sharply and without emotion as she once again faced the elevator doors. She rubbed the hollow of her back that was beginning to ache. The niggling pain was spreading and becoming increasingly uncomfortable. She just wanted the short time in the relatively tiny space to be uneventful, so she took the easy option and hoped the conversation would end there.
But it didn’t.
‘Frankly, I think I’m a little past caring for your less than genuine apology.’
‘I beg your pardon?’ Claudia knew the handsome stranger had called the situation correctly; she just didn’t want to admit it.
‘I think you’re just giving me lip service,’ he continued. ‘Forget I said anything nice at all. To be honest, I’m sorry I did, so let’s just go back to an awkward silence that comes with sharing an elevator with a stranger and hope the thing picks up speed for both of our sakes.’
Claudia felt a little tug at her heart. The stranger really had been trying to make pleasant conversation and compliment her in the process and she had shot him down.
‘Gosh, I did sound awfully rude, didn’t I?’ she
