Scott didn't see Sherry around after the day he bought her ice cream. There were no updates on the case of the vigilante women. And Richie had bought him yet another ticket to a show that he insisted be used.
He was doing this at least twice a month now. How cultured did he wanted his protégé to be?
Annoyed as he was, Scott couldn't deny he needed to get his mind off of things so he went without complaint even though he had never wanted to see Phantom of the Opera.
He had a balcony seat with a decent view of the stage even though the actors seemed very small from up there. He wasn't an opera fan in the slightest but at least the story was interesting. He didn't fall asleep like he had at the last show Richie sent him to.
He fell asleep during the intermission and didn't wake up until a fake cannon went off onstage in Act Two and nearly had a heart attack. When he reluctantly relayed the story, his mentor just about died laughing.
When the show ended, the crowd surging to get out was ridiculous. He decided to stay back and wait until everyone else left first to avoid getting trampled and ended up going to the bathroom and getting a drink while he was at it before hitting the elevator.
That was yet another reason he was glad he waited. If he tried going before now, it would be packed and he would have to wait around forever or take the stairs. Now there was only one other person going down with him. A brunette woman more than half a foot shorter than him with pink-tipped hair.
The elevator barely started going down when it suddenly jolted and stopped. She nearly fell over from the force and he instinctively reached out to steady her.
"Are you alright?"
"I'm fine," she said, brushing a strand of hair out of her eyes. "I guess we need to push the call button."
She did so and nothing happened. She tried several more times, getting more insistent with her pushing and cursed before giving up and pulling out her cell phone. She tried calling 911 before cursing again.
"You have got to be kidding me! There's no service in here! Do you have service?"
Scott checked his phone and sighed. No, he did not.
"Nope."
"Fantastic. Someone will have to notice the elevator isn't working though, right? We'll be out of here soon," she said with confidence.
That confidence wavered after fifteen minutes of nothingness. She took her heels off and slumped against the elevator wall. "…no one's coming, are they? Do you think everyone left for the night?"
It was possible. They had been the last people upstairs that he had seen.
"They might have," he hedged.
"Great."
Scott felt distinctly awkward. Obviously, he hadn't wanted to get stuck in an elevator either but he didn't know what else to say. Especially as time ticked on and the woman listened to music on her earbuds, occasionally singing along under her breath.
It was a musical Richie had made him go see over a month ago. Not the one he fell asleep during.
So she was singing along to a musical while stuck in an elevator after seeing another one. She must really like musicals. They weren't exactly his cup of tea but he didn't mind them terribly.
"You don't have to listen with your earbuds," Scott said after a while. "I don't mind. You can sing along louder too if you want."
The woman appeared sheepish. "Sorry. I didn't even realize I was doing it. Force of habit, I guess. I'm trying to pass the time without getting nervous about not being found."
"Don't worry about it. You have a nice singing voice."
"Thank you!"
She ended up unplugging the earbuds and singing along a little louder. Her volume increased as time went on and when a particular song she seemed to like came on, she belted it. He didn't say a word the whole time and sat back and enjoyed the show.
The woman was very into it, just like the actors on the stage had been. At least as far as he could see from the balcony. He wondered if she had any sort of theater background.
Scott didn't know a thing about her aside from what she looked like. He didn't even know her name.
She was wearing a ruffled red dress with sheer sleeves, black dangly earrings, and black ankle booties. She had brown eyes with way less makeup on them than the women he usually saw at the club and was wearing lipstick that matched her dress.
If he was being perfectly honest, she was beautiful. Especially when her whole face lit up as she sang. She was somehow managing to have fun while stuck in an elevator and all he could do was stare.
Her phone shut off right in the middle of a song and she let out a heavy sigh when she noticed, stopping mid-word. "Well, that sucks. This is why you should never leave the house without having your battery at more than 80%."
Scott couldn't help but laugh. "Sorry, but you have a point."
She waved her hand airily. "It's fine."
"Do you have a theater background?" he asked, wanting to make conversation since they were stuck in here and the entertainment had stopped.
"Sort of. I grew up backstage because of my mom's job. She was a costume designer on Broadway for more than thirty years. I love everything about musicals. I try to go as often as I can but I didn't expect this to happen. I guess the Phantom of the Opera is haunting this elevator."
Scott laughed harder this time. She was funny. And he still hadn't caught her name.
"I guess so. I'm Scott, by the way. Scott Harkin."
"Delia Mortensen."
She accepted his hand and shook it. Her hand was warm and he felt his heart skip a beat before he dropped it like he had been electrocuted.