Snowed in with the Enemy

❄ Camille ❄ Mr. Clark Johansen’s file stayed open on my screen, the last thing between me and going home. Margaret Sterling had warned me that this client was a test. If I got the bookings wrong, the fallout would land on her desk, and she would make sure it rolled downhill to mine. Despite the stress of the situation, the office was quiet. Everyone else, other than Sebastian Pierce, had already left hours ago. My monitor and desk lamp were the only steady lights in my little office. Beyond my door, the open-plan floor sat in darkness and half-shadows with rows of empty chairs that simply reminded me that I should have left too. I refreshed the airline inventory again. Aurora Skies had shifted his departure time, and the seat block I had held earlier showed fewer options now. I checked fare rules, confirmed the final routing, and entered the changes into his file. Then I pulled up the hotel hold at the Grand Everford Hotel and read the note in bold: CONFIRM BY 00:00. I typed a short email to Johansen’s assistant, attached the confirmations, and requested authorization. My hands felt stiff from the cold and fatigue. My phone buzzed, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw Lucinda, my younger sister's name flash on the screen. I stared at it, then turned the phone face down. If I answered, she would worry. Tonight, I needed to finish this and get home. I hit send and watched the email leave my outbox. Relief loosened my chest just as a sudden knock sounded at my door. I knew who it was, and I just wasn’t in the mood. “I know, I’m almost done,” I said as I glanced up to see Sebastian leaning against the doorframe. He made a point of looking at the watch on his wrist. “Thank f**k,” he muttered under his breath, but he didn’t leave. Even on a full day, the man looked so well put together. Like he ran on a schedule the rest of us never saw. The look on his face sent a wave of annoyance through me. Since the system failure earlier, Sebastian had been acting like it was my fault. One outage had turned him into a miserable asshole. Not that it was any different from how he usually was. I always tried to avoid him, but tonight I wasn’t very lucky. I bit my tongue to avoid saying something that would ultimately turn into an argument. "I’m done,” I repeated. “Johansen’s confirmations are out,” “Good,” he nodded toward the hallway. “Pack up,” once again, I bit my tongue and slowly got to my feet as I grabbed my handbag. I shut off my desk lamp and set the screen saver on my computer. The office fell into shadow, which only made me realize just how late and dark it was. “Happy?” I muttered as I stepped past him. “Relieved,” he countered. We walked down the corridor together. Our footsteps sounded loud in the empty building. The main lights had dimmed for night mode, leaving only a soft glow in the hall and reception. At the front desk, we grabbed our gloves and coats from the large closet. The air felt colder, sharper, like the storm had pressed its face to the glass and breathed in. Sebastian angled toward the front doors. “Let’s go,” I nodded. He didn’t need to tell me twice. I was looking forward to taking a nice, long, relaxing hot bath while I waited for an order of dumplings, fried rice, and spring rolls. Maybe even a glass of red wine. I warmed to the idea, but as we crossed the open-plan area, the building suddenly went black. The change was instant. No overhead lights. No hum. Just darkness, thick and complete. I stopped short. “What happened?” I questioned as I took a step closer to him. Sebastian’s phone lit up in his hand as he unlocked it. “Power outage,” “Generator?” I asked, but I already knew the answer. “Generator went in for a service,” I didn’t respond to that as I dug in my bag for my phone to turn on the flashlight. Sebastian did the same. Two pale beams swept across the lobby as we moved. A gust slammed into the windows, and the glass rattled hard, and the wind howled louder than before. My skin prickled with anxiety. “It got worse,” I murmured. Sebastian headed for the main doors at a fast pace. I followed, my grip tight on my bag strap. The exit sign glowed red above the glass doors. Sebastian reached out to push the door open, but nothing happened. “What’s wrong?” I tried to hide the annoyance in my voice, but I failed. He shot me a look and tried again. “It won’t open," he grunted as he pushed with his whole body. I aimed my flashlight at the bottom seam and noticed the snow. My throat went dry as realization hit me. “No,” I whispered. Sebastian moved to the large window and tried to peer out. “The snowstorm picked up,” he said. “Well, call someone,” I insisted. “Maintenance. Margaret. Anyone,” Sebastian lifted his phone and tapped. “No signal,” I checked mine. One bar flickered for a heartbeat, then disappeared. No Service stared back at me. I tried a call anyway. It failed. I tried texting Lucinda. It didn’t go through either. The wind hit again, and the building gave a low groan. Somewhere deeper inside, metal clanged once and went quiet. Sebastian lowered his phone. “We are not getting out tonight,” I turned away and closed my eyes. Earlier that day, we had argued in the operations room while everyone watched. Sebastian had blamed ‘poor process’, and I had reminded him that his checklists didn’t prevent a server from dying. Margaret had ended it with one look and sent us back to our desks. I had promised myself I wouldn’t be alone with him again, not in a hallway, not in a meeting, not anywhere. Now the storm had made a liar out of me in one night. My pulse hammered, and I hated that he sounded so certain. I hated that the storm had made his calm feel like control. I hated that my hands shook while he stood there, like this was just another problem to manage. I looked around the dark lobby, the red exit sign, the blocked doors, and the white wall outside. The power was out. The phones were dead. The storm had sealed us in. “We are stuck here. Together,” I forced out the words, and his eyes met mine. “Yes,” my stomach dropped. Camille Hart, trapped overnight with Sebastian Pierce. The man I couldn’t stand. The man who always watched me like he expected me to fail. I tightened my grip on my bag and tried to breathe. “This is going to be a nightmare,” ❄❄❄