Lance runs into the lobby and slams his hand onto the elevator’s metal doors. But it’s too late—the doors are fully closed. “Damn it,” he snarls. He turns and runs toward the emergency stairs.
“Lance, wait,” Leonie screams, “She’s gone!”
Lance ignores Leonie and sprints down the stairs. Andrea’s toast echoes in his mind, and the wine is still wet in his hair. He thinks of the way her eyes flashed, and the hurt hidden behind the anger. Of course, he’s seen her angry before, but he’s never seen her look so betrayed: not when he flirted with Lisa, not when he accused her of having an affair with Andrew, not even when she thought he slept with Leonie.
Lance takes the stairs three at a time. He can hear Robert’s footsteps echoing several floors above. “Slow the elevator,” Lance shouts, “Make
