TheStrangerupstairs
1292 Words
The elevator doors slid open with a hiss, and cool air rushed in. Marie stayed frozen for a heartbeat before stepping out, her pulse still racing from the claustrophobic ordeal.
She barely had time to regain composure when the man,that man, stepped out beside her.
Her relief shattered.
He was going to the same floor.
Great, she thought bitterly. Because this morning clearly hasn’t humiliated me enough.
But before she could move, the entire atmosphere of the floor changed.
“Mr. Reid!”
Heads turned. Secretaries, interns, and department heads who usually ignored Marie suddenly straightened like they’d been caught napping.
Within seconds, a wave of employees hurried toward him—eager, respectful, almost nervous.
“Sir, are you alright? We heard there was a malfunction”
“Should we call maintenance again?”
“Do you need water, sir?”
Marie blinked, stunned, as two men in suits stepped forward to escort him toward the executive wing.
Mr. Reid.
The name echoed in her head. Reid.
Wait, Reid Holdings.
Her throat went dry. That wasn’t just any “Mr. Reid.” That was Alexander Reid—the same name on the company’s biggest contract, the elusive investor whose decisions could make or break half the projects in the firm.
And she had yelled at his driver. Then called him arrogant. Then almost had a panic attack in front of him.
“Oh, no…” she whispered under her breath.
Her eyes followed him instinctively. His stride was long, powerful, his presence commanding. People seemed to part naturally in his path, like the air itself adjusted to his existence.
Someone asked again if he was okay. He barely spared them a glance.
“I’m fine,” he said curtly. “Just tell your maintenance team to make sure the lift doesn’t trap me with—”
He paused mid-sentence, glancing over his shoulder. His gaze brushed against Marie like a blade.
“—with employees who can’t mind their temper.”
A ripple of laughter, uneasy and forced, traveled through the small crowd.
Marie’s cheeks burned. Her hand tightened around her coffee cup until her knuckles turned white. She wanted to say something, anything, but every word got stuck behind the lump in her throat.
He turned away without another glance.
“Get me the morning reports in my office,” he said, and just like that, he disappeared into the corridor, surrounded by people desperate to please him.
Marie stood there, motionless, heat rising in her face.
She could feel eyes flicking toward her—curious, judgmental, pitying. Someone whispered, “Was she the one in the lift with him?”
She inhaled sharply and forced her feet to move, muttering to herself as she walked away. “Mind your temper, huh? Says the man who can’t even apologize.”
She took a long sip of her coffee, trying to cool the embarrassment boiling inside her. The caffeine burned down her throat, bitter as the morning itself.
By the time she reached her desk, she was clinging to the faint hope that maybe—just maybe—no one would mention it again.
“Marie!”
Her best friend, Johnny, waved from across the office. He was leaning lazily against his chair, tie loosened, hair as messy as always.
She exhaled in relief. “Coffee delivery, as promised,” she said, setting a second cup on his desk.
He grinned. “You’re an angel. I was about to die.”
“Yeah, well, angels don’t almost suffocate in elevators.”
Johnny frowned, sitting up. “What happened?”
“Long story.” She hesitated, then lowered her voice. “Do you know who that guy is? The one everyone’s losing their minds over?”
Johnny raised a brow. “You mean the Mr. Reid? The one from the board?”
She froze. “That’s him?”
“Apparently,” Johnny said, sipping his coffee. “Word is, he flew in last night. I think he’s here for some internal review. Why?”
“No reason,” she lied too quickly.
Johnny eyed her suspiciously. “You sure? Because you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
She forced a laugh, waving him off. “I just… didn’t expect him to look so—so—”
“So what?”
“So infuriatingly composed,” she muttered under her breath.
Johnny snorted. “Well, that’s rich, coming from the office firecracker herself.”
“Ha, ha.” She rolled her eyes and turned back to her computer, pretending to focus on the screen. But her thoughts refused to cooperate.
Every time she blinked, she saw him again — that unreadable expression, that quiet authority, that annoying, deliberate calm. The way he’d looked at her in the elevator, not with anger or amusement, but with a kind of detached curiosity that made her feel far too exposed.
She tried to shake it off. He was just another arrogant CEO, used to people bowing at his feet. She’d probably never have to talk to him again.
Right?
Her phone buzzed.
She glanced at the caller ID and froze. Mr. Harrison — Managing Director.
Her stomach dropped.
“Marie here,” she said cautiously after answering.
“Miss Parker,” Mr. Harrison’s voice was clipped, too polite to be friendly. “Please come to my office.”
“Now?”
“Immediately.”
The line went dead.
Johnny looked up as she grabbed her notepad. “You okay?”
“Not sure,” she muttered.
By the time she reached the managing director’s office, her palms were damp. Mr. Harrison was standing by his window, arms crossed, his expression unreadable.
“Sir, you asked to see me?”
He turned, gesturing for her to sit. “Marie Parker. You’ve been with us for what—three years now?”
“Yes, sir.”
“You’re smart, capable, and you’ve shown potential. But this morning…” He sighed. “What happened to your professionalism?”
Her heart skipped. “I—what do you mean?”
He picked up a file from his desk, but his gaze didn’t soften. “I received a report that you were… unpleasant toward a guest. That you were in an elevator with him and—how did they put it—‘displayed an attitude.’ Care to explain?”
Marie blinked rapidly, her voice faltering. “I didn’t—he—”she stuttered
“Miss Parker.” His tone left no room for excuses. “We value first impressions here. You represent the company when you’re in this building. I expect you to act accordingly.”
She swallowed hard, forcing out, “Yes, sir. It won’t happen again.”
“Good.” He closed the file. “You may go.”
“But… sir,” she said hesitantly, “who exactly was that man?”
Mr. Harrison looked at her for a long moment, then simply said, “You’ll find out soon enough.”
She left the office in a daze, her heart thundering.
By the time she returned to her desk, the spot where Alexander Reid had been earlier was empty.
The buzz around the floor had died down, replaced with the usual tapping of keyboards and murmurs of phone calls.
But Marie couldn’t shake the weight in her chest.
Who was he to command so much attention? Why did the managing director sound almost afraid of him?
And why, despite everything, could she still feel the ghost of his eyes on her — cold, unreadable, and impossibly close?
She exhaled slowly, fingers brushing the rim of her now-cold coffee.
Something told her that her morning wasn’t the end of the story.
It was only the beginning.
- Writer
