NASCAR Imagines

Chase Elliott

"Elizabeth, don't you have to be at that meeting to officially be apart of the team in like five minutes?" My newest colleague asked as she checked her watch. She casually leaned against the wall of my messy office while I typed away on the computer, my eyes growing wide as they darted to the corner, spotting the time.

"Oh no. Oh no, no, no, no." I shook my head, scooping up my purse and a couple files, not bothering to sift through them. "Thanks-- it was super great meeting you, Bailey!" I slipped by her as she turned, watching me go with a frown laced with amusement.

"It's actually Bethany." She chuckled as I turned, stuffing my files into my bag. I spun on my heel, walking backward with a soft smile.

"Tomato, to-mah-toe." I shrugged before spinning back around. I jogged by my new colleagues as I dug through my purse, glancing up every couple of seconds. "Keys, keys, keys-" My head snapped up at the sound of that old elevator and I felt panic flood through me. "Hey! Hold the elevator, please!" I grinned hopefully. The guy inside smiled softly, holding his arm out and stopping the doors from shutting. I slipped inside, mentally bracing myself as I stood beside him. "Thanks. 1st floor." I smiled as he looked to me. He hit the button and I shifted uncomfortably before turning toward him, clutching my bag close to my chest, basically forgetting about my car keys. "Elizabeth--Libby." I smiled, holding out one hand. He stuffed his cell phone into his pocket before taking my hand in his and gently shaking it.

"Chase." He smiled and I raised a brow.

"Oh. Like the racer?" He nodded and I grinned widely. "Yeah, I just got the job and have to make it to the team meeting. Technically to meet all of you. Sorry I didn't recognize you at first." I paused and scrunched up my nose as the elevator went down a floor, my heart clenching as I grabbed the railing behind me. "Lots of new faces, old faces." I paused again and chuckled at myself. "Not old faces, but people I already knew." He laughed softly and nodded, clearly amused with my rambling.

"I gotcha, don't worry." I focused on his southern accent lacing his words and his dark brown eyes. I tried not to stare, but as I got more and more aware of how small the elevator was, the heat went straight to my cheeks as my breathing quickened. 

"I am also really, really sorry for my weirdness. I'm--" I was cut off by the elevator jiggling, causing Chase and I to stumble slightly. I squeezed onto the railing, my eyes darting toward each wall as a red light linked on the metal panel. My mouth ran dry as Chase frowned, glancing over the buttons then to the illuminated floor number above the doors. The 7 was dim and flickering causing my heart rate to quicken even more. "W-w-why did-- why did we s-stop?" I asked, my voice shaking more than I'd like to admit. 

Chase frowned, looking over at me and my stiff position. "I'm not sure-- are you all right?" I chuckled dryly, glancing around the elevator.

"Today is your lucky day, Chase. Y-you're stuck in an elevator with a clumsy, annoying, claustrophobic girl for god knows how long, because before the damned thing gets's going, I'll probably have a heart attack." I muttered, my hands growing clammy against the cool metal bar I was holding so tightly. 

"Could be worse." He offered a soft smile before crouching beside the panel, glancing it over. He shook his head and stood back up, a frown on his lips. "Way out of my league," he muttered and I chuckled softly, the breath leaving my lungs as I anxiously ran a hand through my hair. He stood, looking around. "So, I doubt I have service, but," He pressed a red button and turned back to me, a soft reassuring smile on his lips. "I'm sure this happens all the time. They have emergency plans and everything. Probably won't be any longer than five minutes."

"Yeah, I wouldn't know," I muttered and chewed on my lip, setting down my bag and rolling my shoulders back as sweat tickled my back. My heart was thudding in my ears as I glanced at each wall. "I avoid these damned cages as much as I can.  Five minutes is more than enough time for the elevator to drop to the bottom floor, killing us both. Or more than enough time for me to hyperventilate until I turn blue-- or until you choke the life out of me because I can't stop talking, and oh my gosh, is it hot in here?" I asked, panting softly as I leaned down on my knees.