This place seems more like a historic hotel than an apartment complex, with its expansive columns and marble floors. I step into the elevator and turn around to face the open doors, admiring the extravagance of the lobby. I smile and bring my hand to my forehead, giving him a proper captains salute. Seems in my past life, I was shot right in the ass. I reach down to grab the handle of my suitcase and turn to him one more time before I step inside. I find myself laughing when the elevator doors finally open. What he didnt realize is that God gave me a lot of great things to accomplish in my life, and right now, Im so far behind I aint evergonna die.

Owner gave me a pity job to keep me busy till I died. He smiles to himself. Been sending people on flights now for more than fifteen years, I think. Worked here thirty-two years before I became captain.

Since I got too old to do maintenance on this building. I swear this is the slowest damn elevator Ive ever encountered. How long have you been flight captain of this elevator? I ask as I wait. I smile at his words, since my brother and father are both pilots. I dont think theres an official title for my position, but I like to refer to myself as a flight captain, considering I do send people as high as twenty stories up in the air. I push the button for the elevator, he says. He nods his head toward the elevator, and my eyes move to the illuminated numbers overhead. He somehow knows what floor Im going to, even though this is the first time Ive ever set foot in this apartment complex, and its definitely the first time Ive ever laid eyes on this man. My eyes narrow as I process his question. He grunts as he sinks into the chair and then looks up at me again. He takes a few slow steps toward one of two velvet red chairs that are positioned against the wall next to the elevator. His curved posture and shaky stance give away that he isnt a day less than eighty years old. Despite his somewhat morbid opening conversation, he cant be that dangerous. I smile, but I cant tell if I should be afraid or entertained. My grandfather used to say the placement of a birthmark was the story of how a person lost the battle in their past life. My hand instinctively goes up to my neck, and I touch the dime-sized mark just below my ear. He presses the up button on the elevator and faces me. My eyes widen, and I slowly turn toward the elderly gentleman standing at my side. Somebody stabbed you in the neck, young lady.

Ugly love episode 1 colleen hoover