She was running late and barely caught the elevator before it closed, wedging herself in next to a guy carrying a plant nearly as tall as he was. He was wrestling to keep it upright, his arm stretched awkwardly around the leafy branches.
“Rough day for the green guy?” she asked, smirking.
He looked over, a little breathless, and grinned. “You’d think I was moving a small tree, not a ficus.”
She laughed, crisp and authentic. “How’s it going? You need an extra hand?”
“Honestly, yeah,” he admitted, shifting the plant toward her. “I think it’s taking me hostage.”
She held one side of the plant as he rearranged his grip, and somehow, between the awkward balancing act and his half-joking apologies, she found herself enjoying the whole ridiculous moment.
When the elevator dinged, he looked at her and said, “Want to grab coffee sometime? I promise it’ll be a lot less...botanical.”
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