10th Floor

Ground Floor

Gia pushed the button, shuddering out a breath she didn’t realise she’d been holding. The elevator doors clunked closed and the cables began to whir. She ascended, floor by floor. Light goosebumps broke across her olive skin, from the small of her back to the straggled hairs resting on her neck. What the hell was she doing? How could she be so audacious? She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so nervous.

2nd Floor

Perhaps she felt this way, Gia pondered, when her first boyfriend (Arnold, an unfortunately disproportionate boy) had let his hand wander beyond the bounds of her oversized netball jumper. But that could hardly compare. Arnold was quickly disappointed when he found, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t unhook her elastic sports-bra to fondle the wonderful treasures beneath. He was suitably embarrassed and—after mumbling something about late library books—ran out of Gia’s room, leaving her flustered and confused.

That wouldn’t happen this time, though. There weren’t any sweaty sports-bras or awkward boys on the menu tonight. Gia had specially chosen an elegant (and very unhook-able) bra for what she had planned. Lost in thought, her fingers slid beneath the lining of her dress and across the soft mounds of her chest, tracing lacy lingerie to the point of her hardened nipple.

3rd Floor

It wasn’t really Arnold that had ever made her nervous. Being a shy, slightly plump teenage girl who’d never kissed a boy was enough to keep Gia a perpetual nervous wreck until she was sixteen. While the other girls would chat and nonchalantly shed their clothes in the locker room—which Miss Buckland encouraged with much enthusiasm—Gia would prudently change her clothes underneath her baggy netball jumper, exposing no more flesh than necessary. But she wasn’t an uncomfortable teenager anymore.

As the elevator clicked upwards she caught a glimpse of herself in the reflective elevator panels. Her once broad, flat torso was now curved with delicate indents and dunes, as if sculpted into place by a grand artisan. She clinched her waist with both hands and rubbed them down the smooth fabric, flattening her dress to her firm stomach. It had taken some dedication, but Gia could finally admire her figure. That five a.m. running routine was totally worth it, providing she didn’t fall asleep during an investment meeting.

4th Floor

The night before, Gia made sure to get to bed early so she could enjoy the day ahead. She had endured nine frenzied hours of mind-boggling analysts and condescending executives. Damien from sales had pestered her for a date again, but she’d politely declined. Although it had been a while since Gia had been intimate with someone, Damien’s advances were incessant and she wasn’t quite that desperate. Anyway, she already had plans.

After an evening of meticulous wardrobe-rummaging for the perfect dress, she ran a bath and slipped into the tub, immersing herself into a comforting warmth that caressed every inch of her body. Things at work had made her tense lately—not least Damien’s cringe-worthy propositions. Her manager had departed on her annual honeymoon (some lavish resort in Greece where the hoi polloi weren’t permitted) and that meant Gia’s inbox was chock-full, demanding hours of overtime. But when she bathed at night, the water would cocoon her shape and slow her heartbeat. There, she could just let go of it all.

A small pool of sudsy water settled into the groove of her stomach as her chest buoyed upon the bubbly surface. She let out a deep exhale, submerging her body deeper into the tub, and slid her hand over her inner thigh into the water…

5th Floor

Going by the frosted reflection in the elevator and a few shop windows along her journey, Gia was quite pleased with her outfit. Sure, the dress was a little short, but it clung to her body in all the right places and was, otherwise, quite modest. She didn’t usually wear much colour, but the soft powder blue material beautifully complemented Gia’s eyes and her long, toned legs. She had certainly raised a few eyebrows during her journey to Parkview Apartments and, judging by the porter who’d admitted her entry, she had raised a little more too. As she strode by him to the elevator, she cast a glance towards the apartment mailboxes (‘1051 – Kingsley’, the one she hoped to see) then beamed back at the porter, “Thank you, sweetheart.”

The elevator steadily rose. Gia, once more, found her mind wandering to the past. She supposed that there might have been a time when she had been as excited to hook up with someone. A month or two ago a charming mutual funds broker (or something of the kind) visited from across the pond. After a boozy night of British hospitality—a pub crawl from Bank to Tower Bridge—Gia found herself back on the seventeenth floor of the Plaza Tower with the burly broker, ungraciously pressed up against the glass wall of her manager’s office, legs akimbo. In drunken splendour they kissed and fumbled, hands exploring each other like pioneers of strange, new continents. Gia could feel how he wanted her, and she wanted him too; but she wanted the moment to last. In the moonlit office she slid down his body to her knees, unbuckled his belt, and teased the waist of his slacks downwards…

D I N G

6th Floor

The elevator doors burst open, snapping Gia back to reality. In the glaring light of the lobby stood a gawking young man in distressed jeans and a stained hooded jacket clutching a clipboard. He looked her up and down, a smile stretching through his lips. He couldn’t believe his luck.

“Going down?” the young man quipped, starting towards the elevator.

“Not yet.” Gia tapped the ‘Close Doors’ button and watched the disappointed courier vanish from her view.

The doors clunked closed again with a finality that Gia hadn’t sensed before. She began to question her plan. What was she doing, for god’s sake?! Spontaneity was never her strong suit, especially without a few drinks first to ease her in. But until this moment everything about this plan had felt so right. Organic, even. Like it was meant to happen. The last time Gia had let her inhibitions go was with the broker. And although (as she could recall) it all went pretty well, she couldn’t even remember his name. Was it George? Or maybe Germaine? It definitely began with a G. But that didn’t matter now.

Gia looked down and surveyed herself. Her new bra didn’t do much to stop her nipples from poking through her clothes. And although her dress fit very well, it didn’t leave much to the imagination. What must the man on the sixth floor have thought? It didn’t really matter. Anyway, she had seen the way he had looked at her and, in absolute honesty, it turned her on more.

7th Floor

She smoothed the dress down around her breasts and frowned at her erect nipples. They were so naughty sometimes. Gia had searched tirelessly for a running bra that could tame them, but they always wanted to put on a bit of an exhibition. She’d tried taping them down with no success. She’d tried silicone covers to no avail. She’d even tried wearing two sports-bras at a time, but those pointy little troublemakers would still poke through. Eventually Gia gave in and decided to embrace them. Even if it meant distracting every dog-walker in Hyde Park at the crack of dawn each morning.

It wasn’t as if she could control it; they had a mind of their own, particularly around handsome men. Just the sight of a muscular runner would send them into overdrive, hardening to two lethal bullets in an instant. Gia had moved past the predictable jeers and wolf-whistles from passing tradesmen who’d snatch a glimpse of her bouncing bust. But if someone caught her eye (like that dark-haired stallion who ran counter-clockwise every week day) she couldn’t help but blush and profusely avoid eye contact. It was just as well—they would usually be looking south of her face anyway.

While reminiscing about her morning constitution, Gia’s hands curiously explored her body above the cotton of her dress. That runner could really get her going. Light fingertips roamed across her collarbone as she bit down on her lip. Those fortified shoulders she craved. Her other hand softly cupped her breast. That firm, muscular back she wanted to embrace. Her nipple tingled from the tease of her fingers. If only he could see her now.

8th Floor

With gentle persistence, Gia tugged her nipple and pawed at her supple breast over her dress. The other hand glid down her side like silk, following the seam to the waist and back out on the curve of her hips. The elevator scaled the floors in smooth succession, but it felt like a lifetime for Gia. Butterflies tickled her stomach as her mind wandered to the night ahead.

The whole plan was a complete shot in the dark. She had no idea if it would work, but had already pledged herself to see it through. Worst case scenario, he would say, “Thank you, but no thank you,” and shut the door in her face. Perhaps not even so courteously. But Gia had an inkling that luck was on her side and, besides, she had spent too damn long getting ready for it all to be wasted on a lonely evening at a cocktail bar. And with all that aside, Gia was almost too excited to take no for an answer.

She didn’t know him well, or really know him at all. His name was Richard Kingsley and he was two years older than her. He was a registered blood donor (how generous, Gia mused) and frequented a coffee shop called Franco’s where he was due a free cappuccino. She didn’t know if he was married. She wasn’t completely sure if he was straight. She couldn’t even say whether he would be home at nine p.m. on a Friday night. One thing Gia did know, thanks to a couple of years of risk-managing portfolios, was this was a golden opportunity—low risk, high reward. It seemed like a great trade-off.

Soaring towards the Parkview penthouse, Gia felt like Charlie in the glass elevator—unable to fathom the extraordinary possibilities of where it might lead. After all, it was a miraculous chain of events that had delivered her thus far. The morning prior Gia had set out for her jog at five a.m. as usual, ready to face dreaded Thursday, Friday’s unattractive little sister. She randomised her route ad hoc, running along criss-crossing walkways in a spritely rhythm. As she curved around a path parallel with the bandstand she saw a figure she recognised—the stallion. And, boy, could he go! Before she had a chance to roundabout a path and speed towards him, he had sprinted out of the park, across the road and into a swanky high-rise apartment building. Parkview Apartments.

Gia cursed herself, partly for her bold attempt to approach him, but mostly for being too slow to catch him. She slowed her pace on the lawn near the path he had trod. Maybe she’d reach him one day, if their running routes aligned. Maybe it was better to be patient and let it happen when it was supposed to. But something on the pavement attracted her eye—a man’s wallet. She squatted down, her breathing still ragged, and flicked through it. From the picture I.D. inside (possibly the most handsome mugshot in existence, Gia brooded), she knew it was his.

9th Floor

The elevator whirred upwards. Was it getting a little bit steamy in there or was it just Gia? She probably should’ve tried to control herself more. This was technicallya public place. Anyone could catch her in the act, like the man on the sixth floor or maybe an unsuspecting pensioner. But tonight Gia was living in the moment. Who cares if they got an eyeful? She had reserved herself for one man only. If he wasn’t interested? She would go home, draw a bath with some rose extract and indulge in a nice, long soak.

Maybe, Gia speculated, she should have opted for the soak. The night before, she’d paid special attention to herself, massaging the bar of soap across her glistening physique. Suds clung to the top of her chest as she dipped her head back and immersed her bountiful hair into the water. Her tender nipples, floating above the surface, began to harden and tingle amidst the cool air. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the sensation.

How lucky it was, she thought, for her to finally meet this man tomorrow. She wondered what he would look like in nude, although she already had some kind of an idea. She was curious about how he might smell but, again, Gia was fairly certain it wouldn’t be a problem—she had caught his scent once or twice before and it hadn’t done her unruly nipples any favours. Finally, as her hand drifted below her midriff and downwards still, she wondered just how big he would be…

10th Floor

In the midst of her thoughts, Gia noticed that the elevator’s whir had slowed to a low purr as it began to stop. She had made it to the top of Parkview Apartments and knew, as the doors shuddered open, that she was officially in penthouse territory. The tenth floor lobby was much wider than on the sixth floor and decorated with large exotic plants and grand abstract canvases that reminded Gia of a posh airport lounge. Her manager had once boasted that her husband was considering buying a Parkview penthouse as part of their investment strategy, but they instead opted for a cottage in Oxford. Their loss, Gia thought as she wandered through.

There it was. Shining on a large oak door were the numbers 1051. Gia felt a ripple of nerves rise to the surface, so steadied herself. She was used to walking in heels, but she wasn’t about to chair a meeting with a room full of self-important brokers. She was here to meet the love of her life. Okay, well perhaps she was getting ahead of herself, but Gia always was a glass half-full kind of girl. The reality of what she was doing had caught her momentarily off balance and her mind kept returning to—of all things—her nipples. Those perky little buggers were intent on making themselves known through her little cotton dress.

With paced breathing, she approached apartment 1051. To the right of the door was an unimposing intercom. Oh. Gia had been expecting to knock on the door and hadn’t considered that she might speak to her suitor before seeing him. She hadn’t even planned what she might say once he did open the door. Dumbfounded, she rummaged through her little string bag and pulled out the thin leather wallet. She traced the bulky stitching with her fingers. God bless this wallet, she mused; perhaps it was the only talking point they would need. With a deep breath and a long exhale, Gia pressed the intercom button.

bzzt

Her heart was racing but she knew she had to keep it together, if only for a few more minutes. Part of her wanted to abandon the whole plan—to slip the wallet into the letterbox and leg it out of the building—but a compulsion inside, pulsing in the depths of her being, was insisting she stayed to see it through. Maybe everything would be just how she’d imagined as she lay in the bathtub twenty-four hours ago.

One minute had passed. No answer at number 1051. In hopeful lust, Gia had convinced herself that he would appear at the door and her fantasy might (just might) unfold. But no-one was home. She tried the button on the intercom again.

bzzzt

As seconds ambled on she felt a knot tighten in her stomach. It was becoming apparent that her plan was a bust. And to top it all off, her nipples were as hard as ever, mocking Gia’s unfortunate predicament. She would have to U-turn out of here, back down the elevator, past the overexcited porter and get a taxi straight home. The wallet could be handed into the police station the next day and rightfully returned to Richard Kingsley, and life would go on for Gia.

Wallet in hand, Gia moped back towards the elevator and pressed the button. She’d have to wait, since it had returned to the ground floor. If she wasn’t on the top floor she would’ve taken the stairs, but Gia didn’t fancy risking a sprained ankle. And at least, for now, she had a moment to think. Inexplicably, she still felt a little bit turned on. The exhilaration of her impulsive evening had spurred something deep within her. She wondered if she should take a taxi to a nice bar somewhere, maybe chat up a cute bartender and see where it went. The night was young, after all.

The elevator, just passing the ninth floor, brought its whirring to a halt and Gia waited for the doors to open. With a hefty clunk, the doors surely flew apart. But inside the frame of the elevator stood the tall, broad figure of an incredibly familiar man.

With deliberate steps, he crossed into the tenth floor lobby and paused before Gia. Her heart stopped at the glorious sight of the man she had pursued; dark, wispy curls framed his chiseled face and his eyes were deep and mysterious. He raised a quizzical eyebrow, then his gaze dropped to the wallet in Gia’s hand. Her gaze, however, was fixed to his muscular chest, eyeballing the pecs defined through his shirt. A second later she realised her mouth had fallen open and she probably looked completely foolish.

“I—um—thought I should, uh…” Gia waved the wallet around haphazardly. “I found this yesterday, out running. I tried to get it back to you but you were so fast!”

Richard broke into a marvellous smile.

“I can’t believe you found it! I’ve looked just about everywhere for it, I honestly never thought I’d see it again.” He took the wallet from Gia’s hand and gave it a quick check through, then tucked it into his back pocket. “Everything’s here! I must thank you. I’m—uh—glad you brought it back to me.” He looked into Gia’s eyes.

“It was nothing,” Gia mumbled, averting her gaze. “I mean, I couldn’t just leave it out there. You never know who might pick it up.”

“You never know,” he echoed, his voice soft and warm.

She shrugged and returned a modest smile. Their eyes lingered. Gia broke the gaze.

“I guess I’ll get going…” She started to leave, but was gently tugged back by a hand on her shoulder. His hand felt large, strong. She pivoted to Richard, her heart now a beating mess.

“Hey, listen,” Richard began, “I know you’re probably busy—you look like you’re off to one hell of a party! But just in case you’re not…”

Gia held her breath—she couldn’t believe this twist of fate.

Richard went on, “Would you—uh—like to come in for a cappuccino? Just to say thank you…”

Gia burst into a wide smile. “I’d love to.”

As she accompanied Richard through to 1051, taking in the splendid view of his brawn, built frame, Gia buzzed with anticipation. It seemed that luck was on her side tonight after all.