“Could you hold that-”

Sherry groaned as the door slammed in front of her. And it was a guy. Knowing her feminist friends would be disgusted by her attitude, it never ceased to amaze her when a man did something like that. Her father would never have done that. Was she getting old?

Juggling her grocery bags, one knee up against the bottom of them to keep them from falling, she reached for the door, lost her grip on another bag, and cried out as it jerked down, a box of coffee and Tuna Helper tumbling onto the walk.

“Here, let me.” A woman bent and picked them up, pulled open the door, then followed Sherry inside and helped her repack her bags.

So her chivalrous knight wore pumps. Interesting.

Sherry thanked her and headed to the elevators. Mr. Anti-knight, the door slammer, was already there. Great. He didn’t even look her way. The doors slid open, he walked in and immediately reached for the floor buttons. Sherry hurried on, the plastic bags rustling, and went to the opposite side.

“Six, if you don’t mind,” she said and then stared in shock as the guy pressed five for himself and then nothing else. Not even a glance her way.

As the old elevator slowly started up, so did Sherry’s blood pressure. Finally, she had it. They were the only two on the elevator. Still facing the doors, she broke every rule of elevator decorum and spoke. Her voice was fast, almost breathless from anger and nervousness.

“Okay, I know it’s old fashioned of me, but I think a guy just ought to hold a door for a girl. But even if I didn’t, anyone should hold a door when the person behind them asked them to! I mean, come on! And then you get on here and you not only don’t ASK me which floor I need, but when I tell you, you ignore me. Sir, you are rude, misogynistic, self-centered prig! You were probably raised by wolves or a nanny and either one of those would be ashamed of you today. I hope-”

Sherry stopped, frowning. He had not even looked at her. She felt a different kind of heat rising in her face as she looked more closely at him, standing slightly ahead of her and to her left. He hadn’t even flinched as she started, and her voice was loud. Swallowing, she said, “Excuse me?”

Nothing.

Closing her eyes briefly, but knowing she had to know, Sherry took a deep breath and made herself let go of one of her grocery bags, the heaviest one. It crashed to the floor of the elevator.

The man turned quickly, looking down. Immediately, he reached for the bag and helped her position it with the others. His smile was sweet. “You okay?” he asked, his voice the gutteral, nasal speech of the hearing impaired. The elevator bounced to a stop.

Sherry smiled. “Yes, good knight.”

The man grinned and nodded. “Good night,” he answered and stepped off.

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