24-year-old Chloe is content with her life and her work. But one day someone steps into her bubble…

October 2018, 5 PM

The polished metal doors parted and I stepped wearily into the elevator, dropping my backpack down next to my feet. It had been a hella insane day, chasing articles and photos so I could get the layout done before noon tomorrow, and I was still waiting on one more person.

I raked my hand through my short hair, exhaling loudly and leaning against the wall near the button panel.

Working at Arcadia, San Francisco's premier arts magazine, was a great gig. But right now all I could think about was ordering a pizza from Fiorella, smoking a fat blunt, chilling with Bongo and continuing my Netflix marathon.

The perfect way to forget a shitty day. Thank fuck the week's nearly over.

The doors had begun to slide shut when I heard running footsteps. "Hold the elevator!" came a voice.

I reached out to grab the edge of the closing door, and a small, soft hand landed atop mine. The doors halted briefly before reopening and she stepped in, a grateful smile on her face.

"Thanks," she said breathlessly, standing opposite me. Her azure eyes regarded me from under messy butterscotch-colored bangs.

"No problem," I replied. "You're the new photographer, right?"

She nodded shyly in assent. "Max Caulfield."

"Chloe," I smiled, shaking her proffered hand. "So you're Max. I've been waiting on your photos for the DaCosta article. You know, the 111 exhibit?"

She produced a manila envelope from the messenger bag slung over her shoulder. "They told me you'd just left, so I hurried to the elevator hoping to catch you. I didn't wanna leave it on your desk unattended."

"About damn time," I smirked, easing the 8-by-10 photo prints out of the envelope. "Nice work," I continued appreciatively. "You got some skills."

A blush rose in her freckled cheeks. "Thanks. There's a flash drive in there too with the digital copies."

"Cool." I slipped the envelope into my bag then leaned back against the wall, eyeing her.

Max was self-consciously watching the floor numbers slowly changing on the LED display. Her outfit was simple but professional – a navy blue button-down shirt, black pants and black flats. Her messenger bag didn't quite match, but she somehow made it work.
It suited her, but I also got the impression that she was more of a jeans-and-hoodie kind of girl.

She's kinda cute.

Then the penny dropped. "Max Caulfield… I knew your name sounded familiar. You were part of that photo exhibit at the Zeitgeist five years ago, weren't you? I think I've seen your work at the Fraenkel too. Good stuff."

She nodded again, her cheeks pink. "Thanks. Yeah, the Zeitgeist was my big break. I moved here from Oregon soon after that."

My eyebrows shot up. "Where in Oregon, exactly?"

"Little town called Arcadia Bay."

I broke into a grin. "Yeah? I was born there, but we moved here when I was two."

Max's shyness fell away and her face lit up. "Are you serious? What are the chances? You're not just messing with me, are you, Chloe?"

"I shit you not, dude. But I don't even remember it. SF is my home."

"Yet here you are, working somewhere with the same name as your birthplace," she replied with a smile.

"You're here too," I chuckled. Damn, she's so pretty when she smiles.
"How are you liking your first week here so far?" I went on.

"It's...everything I expected, and more." She chewed her lower lip, glancing at me.

The elevator doors opened and we stepped out into the lobby. I gave her a lopsided smile. She seemed like a cool person, and we hit it off pretty quickly.
"So… wanna go hang out?" I asked after a moment's hesitation. "Today's been so busy and it looks like we both need to unwind."

"Sounds fun," she replied. "What did you have in mind?"

"I honestly hadn't thought that far ahead," I admitted with a chuckle. "My original plan was to grab some take-out, then go home and watch Brooklyn Nine-Nine."

"Ohmigod, I love that show! Jake and Amy are the best!" she gushed. "Can we do that? Fiorella does awesome pizzas and chicken wings."

I raised an eyebrow at her, feeling a flutter in my chest. The chemistry was real. I suddenly had a strong feeling that we could have been childhood friends if I hadn't moved away.

"Sounds like a plan," I nodded, putting my hand in the crook of her elbow as we walked outside. "But I'm still hoping for Rosa and Gina to become a thing."

"Yes!" she laughed. "Let's do it!"

"You're not allergic to cats, are you?"

"Nope."

I smiled. "Perfect."

Notes: I wrote this in 2017 for a Pricefield fanfic contest. Didn't win but I enjoyed writing it, and I finally decided to post it here (with a few edits) two years later.
Thanks for reading!