Hit and Run

Chapter 5

We made it to the office building rather quickly. Reese was right, no paparazzi followed us down the back street. I always wondered why they found enjoyment in doing their job. To me, the collective seemed like a giant herd of desperation. I was lucky that today was such a beautiful day, it made it hard for me to feel stressed about what had just happened and allowed me to feel puzzled about why Reese had chosen to go out of his way to help me. I had been so caught up in getting away as soon as I could that I hadn't bothered to inquire much about him. All I knew was that he claimed to not be one of them.

I walked in through the giant glass spinning doors with Reese right behind me. We made our way to the elevator and I pressed the button with the up arrow on it. It turned from white to orange under my finger and I watched one of the overheard lights turn orange as well. Ever since I was a little girl, I had been fascinated with elevators. For some reason, I felt I always needed to be the first in and the first out. I loved the feeling of being lifted into the air, something that should be impossible. I wanted to thank whatever genius came up with the concept and found a way to make it work. Most of us used his invention every day, but didn't even know his name. It reminded me how in most cases we are remembered not by who we are, but by the things we create.

"What floor?" Reese asked me, probably noticing that I was lost in thought. I didn't answer him. It didn't seem to me like an answer would have any sort of significance at the moment.

"Why did you help me get here?" I asked instead. It was the only thing I really wanted to know right now. That, and the name of the guy who invented elevators.

"Because I hate them. Using cameras to exploit rather than create. It's really sad and it's not fair to you" he said, placing both hands in his jean pockets. It was a nice answer, but it gave me no real insight into the person that had just pulled himself into my life.

"So who do you work for, Reese the photographer?" I said. And how did you know where to find me? I wanted to ask. One thing at a time.

"I....well...I'm not paparazzi okay?" He said. 

"I know. You said that."

He ran a hand through his hair, making his curls even messier. I could tell he didn't want to tell me who he worked for, but I wasn't going to let it go. He opened his mouth to speak and then I heard a ding. The elevator. I walked in the elevator first and once we were both inside, I pressed the button with the number 50 on it.

"I work for a tabloid. I take pictures for them. But listen, I wasn't going to take any of you, I swear," he said as quickly as possible. His cheeks had adopted a light shade of pink. I could tell he was embarrassed by what he had just told me. I felt myself get angry again. Suddenly, heat built up inside of me like his words had just lit a match. I impulsively hit the stop on the elevator and it halted.

"What? So you just happen to be in a crowd of paparazzi and you just happen to work for a tabloid, but I'm supposed to believe you weren't there to invade my privacy?" I said. I crossed my arms in front of me and looked him in the eyes. I didn't let my mouth do anything but maintain a stern expression.

Reese looked down for a second and rubbed the back of his neck with one hand.

"Someone sent in a tip that you would be there in the morning and you might even be with a guy. Either way, it would make for a good story. People love reading about the things you um...do," he said, looking back up to face me.

"Unbelievable," I said. Though it was, in fact, very believable. I had no idea who this guy was. One kind gesture meant nothing to me. I would have found room inside of me to appreciate his honesty, but quite frankly, I couldn't care less.