Chapter 7: Confessions in the Elevator
The office was quiet that evening, the hum of the city outside filtering through the glass walls. Emerson Lane had stayed late, trying to catch up on the day's work and review the notes from dinner. His mind, however, was anything but focused on spreadsheets or projections. Lafayette's smirk, his lingering touches, the way he seemed to dominate every space he entered—it was all consuming.
Em had nearly finished consolidating the investor reports when he heard the soft click of the elevator. It was unusual for Lafayette to still be around at this hour. He glanced up, and sure enough, the glass doors revealed the man himself, stepping in as if he owned not just the office but the building.
"You're still here," Lafayette said, his voice low, smooth, carrying that magnetic intensity that always left Em a little breathless.
"I—yeah, just finishing up," Em replied, his words rushed, his pulse quickening. He tried to sound composed, professional… but every instinct screamed otherwise.
Lafayette's gaze swept the room before settling on him. "Good. I like someone who doesn't leave work half-done. Come with me. I want to show you something."
The elevator ride was silent at first, the soft hum of the mechanics filling the space between them. Em's stomach twisted with anticipation. He didn't know what Lafayette wanted to show him, and the uncertainty only heightened the tension.
"You've adapted quickly," Lafayette said finally, leaning slightly against the wall. His eyes were fixed on Em, assessing, calculating. "More quickly than I expected."
Em swallowed. "I—I try. I want to do well."
Lafayette smirked faintly. "Do well? Or impress me?"
The question hit harder than Em anticipated. His breath caught, and his hands clenched lightly at his sides. "I… I guess… both," he admitted, voice trembling slightly. He didn't know why he said it, but the words felt honest.
"Good answer," Lafayette murmured, leaning closer, the air between them charged with something unspoken. "Ambition, curiosity… desire. All of it matters. You can't hide from it here, Emerson. Not from me."
Em's pulse thudded in his chest. The elevator seemed smaller, tighter, each movement magnified by the closeness of Lafayette's presence. He felt the warmth radiating off the man, smelled the faint hint of cologne that always lingered just beneath his senses.
The doors opened on a rarely used floor—an observation deck Lafayette reserved for privacy. The city stretched beneath them, lights twinkling like stars in the concrete sky. Em stepped out, still feeling the heat of Lafayette beside him, every nerve on edge.
"This view…" Em began, gesturing to the city, though he found it hard to focus. His thoughts kept drifting back to the man next to him, the intensity in his gaze, the quiet authority that demanded attention.
"It's impressive," Lafayette said softly. "But not as impressive as… understanding someone. Really understanding them."
Em glanced at him, unsure where the conversation was heading. Lafayette's eyes held a softness now, something vulnerable hiding behind the usual controlled exterior. "Understanding me?" Em asked cautiously.
"Yes," Lafayette said, voice low. "Most people only see the surface. Wealth, success, control. They don't see the part that's… hidden. The part I guard fiercely because most would never understand—or would use it against me."
Em's curiosity flared. "And what part is that?"
Lafayette's gaze drifted downward briefly, a shadow crossing his features. "The part that's lonely. That's constantly tested. That fears betrayal. The part that's… human."
Em's chest tightened. There was a rawness in Lafayette's words, a vulnerability he rarely saw in anyone, much less a man who projected strength and control so effortlessly. For the first time, Em felt a bridge forming between them—not just attraction, not just curiosity, but something deeper, fragile and human.
"I… I get that," Em said softly. "I know what it's like to feel… lost. Ambitious, but unsure of where you belong. Wanting more, but scared of taking the wrong steps."
Lafayette's eyes flicked up, meeting his, and Em felt the full weight of the gaze. "And yet… you've adapted. You've stepped into this world—my world—and you're not just surviving. You're… engaging. You're alive in a way few are."
Em's throat tightened. The words were intoxicating, a mixture of praise and something more dangerous, almost like desire. He felt seen in a way that went beyond the professional façade. And the tension, already simmering, began to boil.
For a long moment, neither spoke, the city stretching beneath them as if holding its breath. Lafayette stepped closer, reducing the space between them to inches. Em's body reacted before his mind could catch up—the heat pooling, the pulse racing, the unmistakable tension coiling tight.
"You're not like the others," Lafayette said finally, voice low, deliberate. "And that… intrigues me. Tempts me."
Em's breath hitched. "I… I don't know what to say."
"Say nothing," Lafayette murmured. "Just… feel."
The air between them was electric. Em could feel the warmth radiating off Lafayette, could smell the subtle mix of cologne and something uniquely… him. Every instinct screamed both danger and desire.
Then, without warning, Lafayette's hand brushed against Em's—lightly, almost accidental, yet intentional enough to ignite a fire. Their fingers touched, lingered, and Em felt a shiver run through him.
"You're aware of the effect you have," Lafayette said quietly, his gaze locked on Em's. "And I… am aware of mine."
Em's stomach twisted, mind spinning. He wanted to lean closer, wanted to give in, wanted to cross a line that they both knew existed but neither had fully acknowledged. Yet at the same time, fear and exhilaration coexisted, a heady mixture that made every nerve sing.
"I… I don't know if I—" Em began, but the words faltered.
"Shh," Lafayette said softly, lifting a hand to Em's chin, tilting it gently so their eyes met. "No need for words. Actions speak louder."
Their proximity was intoxicating. Em could feel the heat, the unspoken tension, the magnetic pull that seemed to draw them together despite every rational thought. Every brush of skin, every shared breath, every lingering glance felt amplified, dangerous, exhilarating.
For a moment, the world outside ceased to exist. There was only the two of them, the city lights below, the soft hum of the building, and the undeniable, undeniable pull between them.
"I…" Em started again, voice barely audible, but Lafayette's finger pressed lightly to his lips.
"Not yet," Lafayette whispered. "We'll see where this goes… slowly. But I promise you, Emerson… the spark has been noticed. And it will grow."
Em's pulse raced. He knew, without a doubt, that he was trapped—not by force, not by obligation, but by desire. Desire, curiosity, and something far deeper that was beginning to stir in both of them.
As the elevator doors closed later that night, taking them back to the office floor, Em realized one undeniable truth: his life had shifted. The temp job he had thought would be temporary, straightforward, manageable—it had become something far more intoxicating. Dangerous. Magnetic.
And he didn't want to escape it. Not even for a second.