Clunk! Thud! The sound of grinding gears, then silence. Even after the elevator stopped, the doors refused to open. Akshara Goenka looked at the numbers on the panel. Both “11″ and “12″ were lit. She punched the button for the first floor several times. When nothing happened, she turned to Abhimanyu Birla, her boss and the only other passenger in the car.

“Are we stuck?”

“Sure looks like it. I thought they fixed this thing.” Abhimanyu grabbed the emergency phone and jiggled the receiver. “What’s wrong with this phone? The darn thing won’t work.”

Akshara took several deep breaths, thankful that her boss directed his attention to the elevator panel and not to her. Maybe the car would move before he noticed her reaction. If he did notice, he’d probably attribute her behaviour to claustrophobia. Her reaction didn’t come just from being closed up in a small space, although heaven knew that was scary enough. No, her reaction came being closed up in a small space with Abhimanyu Birla. She managed to focus on her job and hide her attraction to him in the office. However, she didn’t know if she could maintain her professional attitude stuck in an elevator alone with the only man who inspired her passion.

After jiggling the switch hook on the phone several times, Abhimanyu slammed down the receiver and pushed the door of the phone cabinet shut. “Akshara, do something. We’ve got to get out of here.”

She looked at the ceiling and struggled for calm. What did he expect her to do — perform a miracle?

“Mr.Birla, we’re probably the last people in the building. It’s after eight.” They had worked late — again.

He looked surprised when he checked his watch to confirm the time. “There’s bound to be a security guard or the cleaning crew around.”

“The security guard is on duty, but he’ll be at his desk on the first floor now. He probably won’t make rounds for another half hour or more.” She hoped her companion didn’t notice the quiver in her voice. “I don’t think he can see the elevator from where he sits.”

“What about the cleaning crew?” Abhimanyu asked.

Akshara turned away and pretended to look at the phone. She took a deep breath and clenched her fists to hide the shaking of her hands. “They don’t start till nine o’clock.”

“Well, I don’t intend to stay stuck in here for an hour.” Abhimanyu banged on the walls and yelled, “Anybody out there? We’re stuck! Get us out of here.”

His voice echoed in the small space, but they couldn’t hear any sound from outside. He took off his coat and tossed it in the corner of the elevator on top of his briefcase. He loosened his tie before he hit the wall and called out again.

Akshara tuned out her boss’s voice. She was used to his loud and impatient ways now, but she still remembered how terrified she’d been when she started working at Birla Industries eight months ago. She’d been hired as a clerk in the sales department. Although she didn’t work directly with him, she quickly learned to recognize Mr.Birla’s voice. Everyone in the department took notice when he bellowed. He didn’t like to use the intercom or the phone. If he wanted to see a salesman or one of the office staff, he simply called out from his office. And when Mr.Birla called, whoever he called came running.

In the first five months she’d worked in the department, Akshara had seen four secretaries come and go. Before they left or transferred to other departments, they all gossiped with the other office workers about their boss. “He’s a perfectionist,” they complained. “No one can live up to his standards.”

Akshara never took part in office gossip. Thrilled and proud to have such a good job, she’d never risk it by complaining. Besides, she had no reason to complain. She liked her job. She filed and copied and ran errands and tried to make herself useful, but inconspicuous.

She’d been surprised when Mr.Birla called her into his office after the fourth secretary left. Surprised that he’d asked her to come into his office, she was even more surprised that he’d walked over to her desk to speak to her.

“Boy, you must really be in trouble,” one of her co-workers whispered. “I’ve been here five years, and I’ve never seen him walk up to an employee and speak normally. If he didn’t yell, something must be really wrong.”

Akshara took a deep breath and steeled herself to face the boss. She refused to consider the possibility that she would be fired. Whatever was wrong, she hoped he’d give her a chance to correct it.

She quietly followed the manager into his office. He took his seat at the desk and motioned her into a chair across from him.

“Akshara, I’ve been watching you work. You’re doing an excellent job. You never need any help to keep up with your own work, and you volunteer to help others in the department. You’re both efficient and a team player.” He leaned back in his chair and rolled a pencil in his fingers. “How would you like to make more money?”

“You mean I’m getting a raise?” She tried to sound normal, even business like, but inside she was shouting with excitement. As a high-school dropout, she’d resigned herself to a life of unskilled labour. Now, she had proven her worth in an office job. Mama would have been so proud. She’d been so unhappy when Akshara dropped out of school.

“You deserve a raise, and I’ll see that you get one, whether or not you accept the challenge

I’m offering you.” He dropped the pen on the desk and leaned forward. “I’m sure you’ve heard what a tough boss I am.”

Akshara looked down at her hands folded in her lap. What could she say that was both honest and tactful?

Abhimanyu Birla, the terror of the sales department, suddenly smiled and Akshara’s whole world lit up. She’d admired her handsome boss from afar. Now she sat in front of him, the centre of his attention.

When she didn’t answer, Abhimanyu continued. “I’m glad you didn’t deny hearing the complaints. If you’d said you hadn’t heard anything, I’d know you were lying. And I have to be able to trust my secretary. As I’m sure you know, I need a new one, and you’re the perfect candidate.”

He held up his hand to stop Akshara’s protest. “I don’t really expect you to be perfect, you know. You’re competent and don’t engage in office politics.” He frowned and paused for several seconds. “I think you’ll keep your mind on business, and I’m looking for a professional, not a personal, relationship. The last couple of secretaries I’ve had were more interested in flirting than filing.”

Akshara’s eyes widened and she felt the heat as her face turned red. She’d heard the other women giggling and sighing over the handsome Mr.Birla. She admitted to herself he was an attractive man. Okay, more than attractive — gorgeous. But there was no danger of her even considering a personal relationship with him. She came to work to work, not to play. She’d put too much time and effort into preparing for a career to risk an affair with her boss.

“Look,” he continued. “I realize it doesn’t have anything to do with me personally. They’re attracted to the Vice President of Sales and Marketing, not to Abhimanyu Birla.”

Akshara’s confusion must have shown on her face, because he continued, “I prefer the title sales manager, but my official title is Vice President of Sales and Marketing.” He shrugged.

Akshara knew what his title was. She was confused that he would think any female would be more attracted to the position than to the man. His longish blond hair invited a woman to run her fingers through it, and the long lashes on his green eyes were the envy of many women. In contrast to the boyish good looks of his face, his tall, broad-shouldered body seemed to emanate power. He didn’t need a title or even his authoritative voice to draw attention.

Akshara heard enough gossip to know her heartbeat wasn’t the only one that sped up when he came near.

His voice interrupted her daydream. “Can you move to your new desk this afternoon so we can get started in the morning?”

He didn’t seem to realize that she hadn’t answered. He obviously took her acceptance for granted. Although she wondered how she would keep him from seeing her attraction to him, she knew she couldn’t pass up this career move.

“Of course.”

On that day three months ago, she hadn’t let her new boss see how much her hands were trembling. Today she wouldn’t let him see her fear, and she certainly wouldn’t let him see her fascination with him.

She suddenly realized she didn’t hear his voice. He’d quit calling for help. She couldn’t hear any sound at all. When she looked toward him, she gasped at the look in his eyes. He stared at her as if he’d never seen her before.

“You’re scared.” She’d never heard his voice so soft.

She shook her head in denial. “No. No, I’m not scared.”

He stepped forward and took her hands in his. “Akshara, your hands are shaking. Are you going to panic on me?”

“No, I am not scared, and I am not going to panic.” She pronounced each word carefully and distinctly. “I am the always-efficient secretary.” She didn’t feel like the always-efficient secretary now, but she couldn’t let him know that.

Although she stood directly in front of him, she raised her voice to her boss for the first time since she’d known him. “I don’t panic when you give me one hour to finish a three-hour job.”

Abhimanyu held up his hands as if to protect himself.

Akshara took a step back. “I don’t panic when you forget to tell me to set up the conference room until five minutes before twenty people arrive. I don’t panic when no one can find the file you have to have right this minute.”

She stepped back until she leaned against the wall. “So why should I panic just because we’re trapped in an elevator between the eleventh and twelfth floors at eight o’clock at night?”

Abhimanyu just stood there with a look of surprise on his face. Akshara went limp and slid down the wall to sit on the floor. He sat beside her, with his back resting against the wall.

He turned to face her. “Akshara, I know you don’t panic in a work situation. You’re a highly skilled secretary. You have enough experience to handle just about anything that comes along.”

Akshara looked straight ahead rather than at Abhimanyu. She could pretend she was having this weird conversation with a stranger as long as she didn’t look at her boss. “I don’t have nearly enough experience to handle the job I have now.”

He turned to look at her then. “Of course, you do. You’re the most qualified secretary I’ve ever had. How long have you been a secretary anyway?”

“Three months,” she answered in a whisper.

“That’s how long you’ve been working for me. I meant how much total experience you have.”

“Mr.Birla, you should know. My experience is listed on my employment application.”

She wouldn’t look at him, although she could feel his eyes on her.

“I’ve never looked at your application.” When she raised her head, he smiled.

His smile had lit up her world the day he asked her to be his secretary, and it continued to light her world every time she saw it. “I knew everything I needed to know by watching you on the job. It was obvious that you were working way below your skills as a clerk. I checked with Personnel, and they said you were a qualified secretary.”

“Mr.Birla, I’ve never worked as a secretary before. I took a secretarial course, but I don’t have any experience.”

He slid across the floor to sit in front of her. “Are you serious? Of course, you are. You’re always serious. Like that Mr.Birla business. I told you to call me Abhimanyu when you first started working for me.”

“I just don’t feel right calling my boss by his first name.”

“Well, I’m the boss, and I’m ordering you to call me Abhimanyu.” He stood and paced the tiny elevator. “We’re trapped in this six by six box for who knows long. I think Mr.Birla is just a little too formal for the situation.”

“Okay, Mr . . . Abhimanyu.”

“I’d have never guessed you didn’t have secretarial experience. It must come naturally to you.”

She had slid to the floor because she lacked the strength to stand. But she didn’t know if she could sit there with Mr.Birla — Abhimanyu— towering over her. She’d called him Mr Birla to keep some distance between them, but she always thought of him as Abhimanyu.

Thought of him, dreamed of him, daydreamed of him . . .

Her mind was straying into dangerous territory. She was so self-disciplined that she could usually force her thoughts to something else, usually work. But this unmoving elevator blocked out the rest of the world. Her mind seemed to be filled with only two topics, equally dangerous.

She could either think about being trapped in the elevator or think about Abhimanyu. If she thought about being trapped, she would panic. If she thought about Abhimanyu, she’d probably throw herself at him and beg him to love her as she loved him. He’d warned her from the start that he didn’t want a personal relationship with his secretary.

She couldn’t remember when she fell in love with him. Maybe the first day she’d worked for him, when he’d taken the time to explain exactly what he expected her to do. Maybe it was when she watched him deal with an unhappy customer or help a new salesperson practice her first presentation. He seemed impatient and demanding, but he cared so much he wanted the best for and from everyone. Maybe she’d fallen in love with him the day he’d forgotten to tell her about a meeting in the conference room. He’d charmed her with his sheepish grin when he admitted he’d made a mistake, but he trusted her to fix it for him. His complete confidence in her made her feel like she could do anything.

In one way, her love made her job easy, because making his job and life smoother brought her great joy. In another way, though, her love made her job almost impossible. Each day it became more difficult for her to keep their relationship professional. Abhimanyu, though, didn’t even recognize her as human, much less female. To him, she was just an efficient machine, robot secretary.

“How did you get to be such a good secretary if you don’t have any experience?” He stopped pacing and sat on the floor with his back against the adjacent wall.

“I guess I’ve been taking care of people all my life. That’s all I do — take care of you.”

“And you do a wonderful job of it too.” He slid closer. “But what about the typing and dictation?”

Time to change the subject. “How long have you been a vice-president?”

“Oh, no, you aren’t getting by with changing the subject. I just realized that you never talk about yourself.” He shrugged. “We might as well get some good out of being stuck in an elevator. You’re going to tell me about Akshara Goenka.”

He’d never asked her about herself before. Why now, when she couldn’t escape or hide her emotions? “There’s nothing to tell.”

He raised his arms over his head and grasped his right hand with his left hand. Then he stretched, and stretched, and stretched. The muscles rippling under his dress shirt gave Akshara a tingling feeling in her belly.

“Of course, there’s something to tell,” he said. “You’re a mystery. How can the most beautiful woman in the company also be the most efficient?”

Akshara inched away from him. The tiny elevator seemed to be shrinking. The air seemed to be getting thinner. She had to concentrate on her breathing.

“That would be an interesting combination if it existed.” Akshara reached for her purse to have something to do with her hands. “No one’s ever accused Keith of being efficient.” Keith was the beautiful, but thoroughly disorganized, receptionist.

Abhimanyu slid closer and took the purse from her hands. He pushed it along the floor to the corner with his briefcase. “I can’t positively say no one has, but I’ve certainly never accused Keith of being either the most beautiful or the most efficient. The most beautiful woman in the company has silky brown hair that’s probably long when it’s down. She usually has a serious expression on her face, but it’s worth waiting for one of her smiles. Her hazel eyes show there’s more going on besides the steel control she shows to the world. She’s the perfect size, and she sits just outside my office.”

Akshara stood in one swift motion. “Don’t be ridiculous.” She couldn’t stop the quiver in her voice.

He rose from the floor. “Okay, we’ll stick to business. Tell me how you came to be a secretary.” He stood, put his hands on her shoulders, and guided her to a sitting position. Then he sat beside her. “You really are the best, you know.”

Akshara had never told anyone outside her family about herself. She’d been too busy to make close friends or have a serious romance. She didn’t want Abhimanyu, or anyone else, to know her secrets, but sharing secrets was better than thinking about being trapped or taking the risk of saying something that would cause Abhimanyu to realize how much she fantasized about him.

“I dropped out of school in the tenth grade.” She saw Abhimanyu raise his eyebrows, but he didn’t say anything. “My mother had cancer and needed someone to take care of her.”

Abhimanyu slid closer and took her hands in his. “And, of course, my loyal Akshara volunteered.”

She pulled her hands back and looked away from him. “My mother needed me. What did you expect me to do — tell her to die alone?” She hadn’t meant to sound so angry.

“I would expect you to do exactly what you did — sacrifice some of your own dreams to meet your mother’s needs. You should be very proud of yourself.”

“Proud of being a dropout?” She couldn’t keep the resentment out of her voice. She’d always been ashamed that she hadn’t finished school.

“Proud of doing what was right for your family? And proud of getting an education, some way, some time.” He took her chin in his right hand and turned her face so she was looking at him. “Tell me how you did it.”

She wasn’t sure what she saw in his eyes, but whatever she saw seemed to loosen her tongue.

“I stayed with my mom during the day while my dad worked. She wasn’t a complete invalid until the last few weeks.” Akshara’s voice broke, but she kept talking. How could she be so sensitive to his touch as she recalled those bleak days?

“That must have been hard.”

“At first, I mainly just needed to be with Mom so she wouldn’t be alone. I took care of the house and cooked for the family. I have a brother a couple of years younger than me. I’d give Mom her medicine and take her to her medical appointments.”

Abhimanyu had dropped his hand from her face, but he sat so close she could feel the warmth from his body. “And then . . .” he prompted.

“And then the bills kept piling up. So I went to work as a waitress at an all-night cafe. I stayed with Mom during the day while Dad worked and he stayed with her at night while I worked.” She sat up straighter and lifted her chin. “As Mom got worse, I had to nurse her.”

“I’ll bet you were a good nurse,” Abhimanyu said.

“Unfortunately, not good enough. Mom died.” She couldn’t choke back the tears.

He pulled her to his side and put his arm around her shoulders. “I’m sorry, Akshara.” He reached over and wiped a tear from her face. “I understand the pain of losing someone you love. I lost my father a few years ago.”