He got on and pressed the top floor, as usual. The ride took about 90 seconds, give or take, and he had been taking it for the last ten years working for the company. The elevator was usually full of lawyers, bankers, advertisers, secretaries, accountants, and so on, and the more of them were, the more stops. This time, he was alone.

“Hold the elevator, please,” he heard a woman’s voice.

He frantically looked for the hold button and managed to press it when the door was already closed. Luckily, it opened back up and the woman walked in. She filled the tiny space they occupied with the smell of perfume.

“Thanks,” she said, with a smile.

“Which floor?” he offered.

“Uhm, seventeen.”

He pressed it, she nodded thanks and turned away from him, normal elevator courtesy. He did not think much of anything at first, but after a second or two he noticed the shape of her neck and the delicate shoulders. He felt a surge of desire roll over him, causing a tingling in his lower abdomen. The nape of her neck was brown from the sun. Maybe from a recent holiday. Maybe with a boyfriend or husband.

She turned to the side to look at her own reflection in the polished button panel, fixed her hair a little bit. While she was doing that, he admired her nose and lips, and then breasts. They looked larger because of the formal jacket, like they would, but he knew they were quite big anyway. He imagined himself with her, in white bed sheets. That made him swallow loudly and fix his tie.

She gave him a sideways glance and a tiny smile as she turned back to her position. He realized she must know how she makes men feel. This will probably help her with whatever she came here to do. Or maybe she does not realize, but instinctively knows what to do. Either way, it’s all a game and everybody’s playing.

The elevator gave a small tone and stopped on her floor. She left without turning around.

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