the sitter | lewandowski

five

5 ; the elevator incident

Saoirse had been spinning around in the plush and luxurious chair behind Robert's desk for what felt like forever now, occasionally letting out a noise of pure happiness—"weeee!"—and decided only to stop once she got too dizzy.

"I could never work in that chair," she concluded, standing up. "I would have too much fun with it. Mein gott...I feel like I'm drunk!" The Montenegrin stumbled around before Robert chuckled a little, holding his hand out to sturdy her—but not before she let out a gasp and fell onto of his lap—for he had been sitting in one of the chairs across from her, observing her and matching her levels of effervescence with his own of amusement.

"Saoirse," Robert's voice was low as Saoirse closed her eyes and lay the back of her head on his shoulder. "Just how long were you spinning in that chair before I came back from my meeting?"

"Five minutes," she yawned, "And now I'm awfully tired."

Robert's face was burning. He didn't want to move her off of him, but as a man—and an incredibly heterosexual one at that—the feel of Saoirse sitting on his lap was causing a reaction that he couldn't really help, and if she didn't move soon, then Robert knew she was bound to feel it.

Indeed, the Pole's inappropriate hard-on was soon noticed by Saoirse; she frowned in discomfort and spoke. "Your cell phone is digging into my thigh."

"Yeah, speaking of that." Robert's face grew red. "I actually have a business call to make. I'll need to go back to my desk, so I can use the phone."

Saoirse didn't even realize the fact that she was sitting on his left thigh until he pointed it out, which left her to widen her eyes. She realized that she could apologize and give away just how embarrassed she was (and in the process, embarrass herself even more), or she could play it cool—and act like it was no big deal.

She went with the latter, slowly standing up and stretching. Robert's eyes widened at the sight of Saoirse's rear—undoubtedly rather large and pleasantly rounded for a girl of her age and race—in front of his cerulean eyes. Despite he fact that he couldn't help but stare, he managed to turn  his head away the moment she turned to face him, though he wasn't quick enough. Oh my God, she thought. Robert was checking out my ass—I have to leave before this situation gets even more awkward.

Luckily, she had an accurate excuse this time; her cell phone rang and her mother's name shone as the caller ID. Quickly she answered it, speaking in a low Serbian tongue and turning away from Robert's curious eyes. "Mama, what is it?"

"Saoirse, it's dinner time. Where are you?"

"Uh," Saoirse looked around. "Na šetnju—I went for a walk, and I'm heading home now."

"Good. I want you here before dark."

That statement wasn't specific, seeing as the sun didn't set in Munich until around half past 8, and it was currently six in the evening—but still, Roisin had made her point clear. Saoirse hung up before turning to Robert, though the Pole was now engaged in his own business call.

Quietly, she motioned to the door and mouthed the words "I have to go", then watched as he acknowledged her statement by holding up a finger, telling her to wait.

Saoirse sighed and leant against his glass door, placing her thumbs in her pockets. She bit her lip in wait and unraveled her ponytail, feeling her split ends out of complete boredom as Robert talked about million dollar deals and more, before he finally put the call on hold and stood up. "I'll walk you down to the lobby. Do you want me to call a driver? Something tells me your taxi halting skills are still developing."

Saoirse blushed and nodded. "That and the fact that I can still hardly speak German. Thank you, Robert." Her hands returned to her pockets as the two entered the elevator.

"After today, if I told you I hated my job, you would probably understand—right?" Robert inquired, leaning against the clean metal wall.

Saoirse smiled. "Yes and no. I mean, why would you choose to work at a job that you hate? If you were doing something you loved, you wouldn't have to work."

Robert thought about her statement for a few seconds before he nodded. "Well, I didn't choose to work here. You see, I was an heir."

"So if things had gone your way, then what would you be doing?"

Robert responded almost instantly, with a toothy and charming smile on his face that Saoirse had never seen. "I would be a football player."

Saoirse smiled. She'd never seen him look so genuinely happy. "That's why you chose to sponsor Bayern?"

"The sponsorship has been going on for a long time. My father was a fan, too. Football was the only thing we didn't argue over, yet it was the reason for all of our arguments."

Saoirse leant against the wall. Why did it feel as though this elevator ride was taking forever? "I don't get along with my father, either." She began, with a sigh. "Why didn't you get along with yours? If you don't mind my asking."

Robert shrugged, "He wanted me to run the business and I would always tell him I'd rather die than do this. But then he died, however, and I didn't have much choice—it was his last wish. And as much as he knew I didn't want to do it, he knew that once he made it his last wish, I would have no choice at all. I mean, how could I disrespect it?"

Saoirse's lips were parted. "I'm sorry that he died." She spoke, considerately.

Robert shrugged. "So am I. So, why don't you and your father get along?"

"I can't tell you—it's embarrassing."

Robert smirked. "I won't judge you."

There were thirty floors in the skyscraper, and of course Robert's office was at the very top. Right now, they were only on floor fifteen, and Robert had been holding the close doors button—a trick that made the elevator go down the shaft without stopping. So, they had a few moments left together. She crossed her arms and spoke. "He thinks I'm promiscuous."

Robert blushed and, before he could help himself, blurted. "I thought you were a virgin."

Saoirse's face grew even redder. So, he remembers. "I am." She averted her gaze, tearing it away from his. "That's why it's ridiculous. He doesn't let me do anything. Thank god he's never home, because if he found out that I spent the day here, he would probably kill me."

Robert opened his mouth to respond, but not before the elevator jerked to a sudden halt and Saoirse found herself crying out in utter surprise as her body was thrusted onto his. Robert stumbled back onto the wall as his arms instinctively held Saoirse's body tightly, but he couldn't help but fear for his own life as he suddenly felt the two surging down the elevator shaft; the light flickered out the moment they landed at the bottom of it, and it was a rough landing at that—Robert hit his head so hard that he felt himself seeing stars and growing dizzy.

There was silence for a few moments before Saoirse whimpered. "Robert?"

"Saoirse, are you alright?"

Saoirse pulled out her iPhone and turned on the flashlight before flashing it on Robert's face and watching him wince. "Sorry," She spoke, instantly turning it off. "Yes, I'm alright. Are you okay? I heard you hit your head, it sounded terrible—"

"I'll be fine."

Saoirse placed her hand on Robert's chest before she pushed herself off of it and fell to the ground. "Robert, what just happened?"

"The elevator shaft...something must've broken." Robert pulled out his own phone in an attempt to call the maintenance of the building or even a fire station, but to no avail—he had no connection. Gravely, he slid it back in the pocket of his suit before gazing at Saoirse's silhouette, which shook slightly—out of fear, of course—before he spoke. "Saoirse, I think we're stuck."