The Story of Lansing Lotte (14 page)

I suddenly thought of Layne. If she wasn’t the woman in the elevator, where was she?

How could I have been so stupid? I knew better, I did. I only needed one egg and it was such a pain to get dressed, get Fleur dressed and walk down to the store for one egg. I felt fortunate that Clare was home when I called. I knew I would only be gone a minute or two. I hadn’t ever done that before, but I was desperate. I needed to get the cake made in the morning in order to celebrate the same night. It was Fleur’s fourth birthday and she deserved a party. We’d had a difficult two years and things were finally starting to seem like they were leveling out for us. I knew the first year would be the most difficult, as we had so many adjustments to make, but each day of our second year seemed a little bit better. 

I was only going to be gone for a minute or two. Clare said she’d be waiting at the door with the egg. She offered to come down, but I knew she had an overnight guest. I had already disrupted her enough when I called up for the egg at such an early hour. I raced the stairs, two at a time and made it up the four flights. Her apartment was at the end of the hall and she was waiting outside with an egg in a plastic bowl. I laughed as I ran by, took the egg and noticed the elevator was open. I continued in my laughter as Clare called after me, “You’re a hussy.”

I only had on a nightie, spaghetti strapped, silky and short. I liked lingerie. I was the only one to see myself in it, so it helped when I had to take care of myself. It had been a long time since I’d been with anyone else, and I had planned the night before in celebration for me surviving the last two years. I could have asked Tommy O’Keefe to help me out. He was always offering his services on the rare occasion that I took a shift working his bar in the Irish district. It wasn’t solely Irish any longer, but at one time that area of New York City had a heavy Irish heritage and in many ways it still did. Tommy had inherited his father’s bar and as long time family friends, he offered me some shifts when I needed money quick. I didn’t want to include Tommy in my personal celebration, though, as I knew I could never be the friends with benefits kind of girl. It had to be all or nothing for me. I had learned my lesson long ago that
nothing
was sometimes what you got when you wanted it all. 

After I jumped into the antiquated elevator and tugged on the gate, the elevator descended a few feet before it jolted to a stop. For another moment, I laughed unbelieving in the reality that eventually hit me. I was stuck in the elevator…and Fleur was downstairs…alone. Panic set in immediately, and I grasped the cage, dropping the egg that I had desperately needed in the first place. I rattled the gate back and forth. At first I was calm, giving a mild shout for help, but within seconds I was shaking that cage and screaming at the top of my lungs. I had to get out. Hyperventilation was beginning to set in and I felt claustrophobic, which I had never felt before. I had to get out of the elevator. 

When the door at my feet opened, I immediately fell to my knees.

“Get me out of here,” I yelled. I didn’t miss the surprised look the firefighter gave me as I was on all fours, my hair falling over my head to the side and my breasts exposed in the thin, strappy nightie.  If the situation were different, I would have looked like I was playing sex kitten.  Instead, I was a feline predator ready to kill if I didn’t get out of the cage and to Fleur.

“My daughter?!” I cried out, as I choked on the words. I didn’t have time to scold myself as I heard Lansing Lotte’s voice. 

“I got her out. She’s safe,” he called to me. Relief swept over my entire body, and then the guilt crept in. I began to shake in what I could only assume was shock, as I felt the cold draft in the old lift. I was told to get back as they needed to use some giant wire cutters to break the cage. I scrambled backward to the corner of the box. I didn’t have time to worry that the thing might plummet to the bottom of the building, or that the fire those men had told me about would prevent me from exiting. I had to get to Fleur. If anything happened to her, it would be all my fault. Again.

I returned downstairs to the pleas of 3A to assure Fleur that her mother was found and was coming to her. The little girl sat in the back of an ambulance with an oxygen mask on her face, but she reached for me. I picked her up to comfort her. It seemed slow motion took place as we waited and watched other residents and firemen exit the building without her mother. I tried to keep her eyes away from the vision of flames shooting out her apartment window, licking up the side of the building. It seemed as if time stood still before the flames began to subside, and Fleur’s mother ran out the front entrance in a short nightie.

She reached for her daughter steps before she was close enough to grab her. We met half way before she snatched the child from my arms and hugged her tight. Heavy sobs spilled forth from 3A, who had a dirt smudge on her face and arms. She shook from what I assumed was shock and relief, as well as the cold. I removed my jacket, which smelled of smoke and was filthy with sweat and ash, to cover the mother holding her child. I noticed how frail she was and wondered for the second time what she was doing in only a spaghetti strap nightie at that hour of the morning.

“Thank you. Thank you,” she kept muttering between sobs and kisses to her daughter’s head. Eventually, she let out a brief laugh. When I looked at her in question, she smiled the most beautiful smile of white teeth against a dirty face.

“She said she can’t breathe because I’m hugging her too hard.” For some reason that seemed funny to both of us, and we laughed together. She released the child to the ground, but continued to have physical contact with her.

“I don’t know how I’d ever repay you. You’re our hero.”

I normally would have flirted, making a comment to assure her I knew how she could, but I didn’t speak. She had stepped forward and kissed me on the side of my mouth. The side where I had a dimple.

Her eyes closed half-mast as she pulled back, and she lowered her eyes to the ground.

“Thank you,” she whispered to the cold street below her bare feet. Her voice would have been seductive if it were a different time.

“You must be freezing,” I choked. She only shook her head in denial, but I picked up both mother and child in one grasp, to a shocked squeal and a little giggle. Carrying them awkwardly, I placed them in the back of the ambulance for additional care.

When I turned around, a flash of light blinded me. Then another. And another. The media had broken through the protective barrier and were snapping away. My first thought was to shield my eyes from the glares, but my proximity to Fleur and her mother registered. I knew immediately, the image of the child and the mother in her skimpy lingerie nightie, with my jacket over her was about to make headlines. I stepped in front of the pair to protect them, as best I could, and felt the head of someone in my back. A hand grasped the back of my sweat soaked t-shirt.

“Stay hidden,” I muttered as more bulbs flashed.

“Get them in the ambulance,” I yelled over my shoulder to the EMT, as a means of their protection, as well as, warmth and medical attention. I couldn’t see what was happening behind me. There was a scramble of motion and a jiggle of the ambulance before a hand slid down my back with a final “thank you” whispered in the morning air. The ambulance doors closed and the engine roared to life.

The adrenaline rush hit me hard and my body began to shake. I scanned the crowd, not knowing who or what I was looking for when I heard one distinct voice calling my name above the shouts of photographers.

“Lansing,” came the gruff tone of Galehaut. Looking in his direction, I saw the tear stained face of Layne Ascolat standing next to the giant frame of Will. I pushed through the crowd toward them, as Layne dove into the melee of paparazzi. I felt like I was swimming upstream as the cameras continued to flash. People yelled my name with questions about the fire, the woman and the child. In an instant, the attention from one woman was shifted to another. Any rumors of the woman and child were dispelled when Layne and I collided, and she kissed me for all the world to record with a camera.

It could have been a combination of several things. Stress at saving Fleur and finding her mother. Being alive and finding Layne. Whatever the causes, the feel of Layne’s lips on mine were my undoing. I relished the comfort they brought, despite the public display. Relief hit me hard as our lips collided and I drank her in. Her mouth devoured mine in return, as we discovered every curve of lips and the taste of tongues in that moment. Her body wrapped around mine when her arms tightened around my neck and her legs climbed mine. My hands slid to her waist, and I jostled her body to force her legs to wrap around my hips. We stood before all of New York in an intense embrace and explorative kiss, before another flash finally caught my eye and I broke the assault.

“Thank God, you’re okay,” she sighed, as she leaned her forehead against mine. I still held her body in the air, but my arms were beginning to shake in the full release of adrenaline. My legs started to give out at keeping us both upright.

“Where were you?” I moaned, as my body rejected my strength and I shook harder.  Layne sensed something was wrong and she slid down my body, but didn’t remove her arms from around my neck, forcing my head to bend toward her.

“We need to get you out of here,” she muttered to me, holding my eyes with her innocent brown ones. Releasing my neck, her hands slid down my shivering arms to grab both my hands, gently pulling me toward the lobby of the building.

“I’m sorry, Miss, the building will be off limits for a while. We’ll give you notice when you can re-enter,” a police officer halted us.

“We’ll go to my parents,” Galehaut informed the officer and gave him a card with Will’s information. Galehaut breathed a deep breath before he reached for me and embraced me hard.  He patted my back several times before pulling back and rubbing a hand down his face.

“Okay. To my parents,” he stated, as he turned and walked away from our beautiful
Dolores Guard
.

Galehaut’s home was an elaborate mansion in the old money district of Staten Island.  On the shores of the Hudson River, Galehaut had a wing all to his own, despite the penthouse at
Dolores Guard
. His family were giants in more than just the software industry; they were old world mega-millionaires. Galehaut lead us to a private room with a large attached bath and offered to leave Layne and me alone. I would have loved nothing more than to lay down on the oversized bed, but I needed to shower first.

Layne stood hesitantly at the entrance of the room.

“I just need a quick shower, okay?”

She only nodded in response. I exited the main bedroom to the enormous bath. A large Jacuzzi tub, a two person shower, his and her sinks. It was bigger than the kitchen in my home. My apartment.

I wondered when I would be able to return to my home as I peeled off my sweat soaked, smoke filled clothing. The smell immediately brought images of Fleur and 3A. I still didn’t know her name, and I scolded myself for not asking her. I had plenty of opportunity to find out who she was before, but it was the mystery of not knowing her name that brought a thrill. She was so beautiful, despite dirt and smudges. The skimpy nightie only enhanced what I always thought was underneath her modest clothing.