by Sadie Black
“Mayor Belmonte,” chief Linford said with a polite bow of his head, “I came as soon as I was able. We have matters to discuss. Please sit down.”
There were certain tells when a man had bad news to share. Linford didn’t speak with careful sympathy, nor did he appear to be particularly subdued. Luka’s mood improved as he hoped for the best.
Placed upon the desk before Luka’s chair was an unmarked manila envelope. Luka picked it up as the chief spoke.
“Since the launch of your sting operation, our special unit has worked diligently to discover the roots of the corruption.”
Luka pried open the metal holders and undid the top flap, pulling a modest stack of papers from within the envelope.
“Last night, after the crackdown on one of the mafia’s drug rings, we got a lead. One of the runners squealed; on Friday night there’s a huge underground event going on at a warehouse near the waterfront that will cater to the who’s-who of the crime lords. Everybody who’s anybody is expected to show.”
The news was fantastic, but Luka knew not to be excited. Vittore was cunning, and the man knew the police were looking to take him down. The scenario reeked of set-up.
“How can we trust the info? People will say whatever they can to put the heat on someone else. How do we know this isn’t just some guy trying to lighten his jail sentence?”
A nod punctuated the silence, and Linford grinned. It was exactly the kind of expression Luka had been hoping for. Linford was confident, and Luka knew it was confidence he could trust in.
“The materials seized were abnormally abundant. When we pushed for answers as to why, he folded, told us that it was to cater to the event. The story explains the sudden influx of prostitutes noticed by our undercover agent in the last week. She’s reported that girls, many underage, have been brought in from across the state. It could be a coincidence, but my gut tells me it’s the truth. This bust on Friday could spell the end. We haven’t had an opportunity like this for as long as any of us at the station can remember. This will be historic.”
The stack of papers detailed the events of the drug bust and the information obtained from the runner as the chief had just described. Luka thumbed through the pages as he listened, lips tight. It sounded too good to be true, and yet he trusted Linford.
“It’s Tuesday today,” Luka said at last. “Are you telling me your men will be ready to bust open an operation this big, and this guarded, in three days?”
“We’re ready now,” Linford said. “I’ll call in a SWAT team to assist with the take down. I want our officers to walk out of this alive. Every one of them understands the risks, and every one of them is ready to go.”
“Ok. Keep me informed of the details for Friday night. When the raid goes down, I want to be there. I want to see each one of their faces as they realize they’re about to serve life sentences.”
The breakup wouldn’t be for nothing; maybe after Friday Ciara would be safe for good. Excitement pricked down his spine, and it took a great deal of composure not to show how electrified the news left him. Work had been Luka’s sole escape from the bitter loneliness, and he’d thrown himself into it to soothe his soul. Hard work paid off; his father would have been proud.
“Of course, Mr. Mayor,” Linford said. Another nod marked his intent to rise, and Luka followed suit. “Off the record, strictly between us, it’s about time we had a mayor invested in cleaning up New York. For so long now, we’ve had our hands tied that I almost forgot what moments like these felt like. Thank you.”
If only he knew. All Luka could do was offer a smile. He stepped around the desk and saw chief Linford to the door. Much of the early morning chaos in the lobby had died down, and the lobby was quiet. The news station played on the television in the waiting room.
“Thank you, chief Linford,” Luka replied. “I have great respect for the men and women in blue. You’re gonna do New York proud.”
Luka clapped Linford on the back, and the chief smiled at him in turn.
“Take care, Mayor. I’ll be in touch soon.”
“Take care.”
As he left, Blaire sat up straight in her office chair, eyes wide.
“Oh my—” she uttered is disbelief, pulling open the top drawer of her desk to retrieve the remote to the television across the room. The pleasant background noise grew louder, and as it did, Luka knew why Blaire was so shocked. A familiar voice projected through the lobby. Ciara.
“Brenda Curtis was reported missing on January 3rd of this year, but reports say that no search was conducted until the following week. Ms. Curtis, just twenty-three years old, is described as a ‘serial texter’, and her family says that her lack of contact is more than just unusual.”
There on the flat screen, wearing her favorite red pea coat as she reported from the snowy streets of downtown New York, stood Ciara. Each word animated and on beat, it was as though she’d been video reporting her entire life. The smile on her face was one he recognized well — Ciara was happy. No amount of acting could make her eyes sparkle like that. She’d once looked at him in that way. God, he missed her. The world stopped spinning and time froze around him. No one in the room mattered except for the woman on the television screen.
“Excuse me, Mr. Mayor.” Chief Linford said as he re-entered the lobby, “I almost forgot to follow up with the rest of last week’s progress...”
Luka’s eyes were still glued on the screen, and as much as he respected chief Linford, he could not tear them away. When he spoke he did so with his chin lifted, watching Ciara as she covered the story of the missing girl.
“Please fax me the reports,” Luka mumbled, distracted. “I’m afraid there’s something I need to do right now.”
Even if they could never be together again, Luka wanted the best for the only woman he’d ever loved. Ciara had thrown her career away for him once; it was time to pay her back for that sacrifice. The news story of the decade would be coming out Friday night, and Ciara would be the only reporter in town with the inside scoop. With a story like that under her belt, her career would take off. After all she had done for him, Luka felt it was the least he could do.
* * *
Ciara
“For a rookie, you didn’t do so bad today. What are you up to tonight?”
The way Rick angled his head to the side, one brow hitched just a little higher than the other, told Ciara all she needed to know. The newsroom crew was filing out, the day over. Half the staff left for the day. The other half loitered and chatted. Only Rick stood apart from the rest, leaning against the wall by the office doorway, eyes fixed on her.
“I’ve got to get home and unpack,” she replied. In situations like this, firm honesty was the best policy. “I just moved. I want my apartment looking like an apartment, not a warehouse.”
Rick laughed. There was a hitch in it that felt insincere. Perhaps it was her own bias. Everything about the man seemed a little off. Ciara had difficulty dodging his advances.
“If you want help, I’ve got some free time tonight. It’s lonely work unpacking alone, especially in a place you’re not familiar with. I could keep you company.”
Company was the last thing Ciara wanted. The last month had been difficult, but each day seemed a little brighter as she rebuilt herself from the ground up. Finding a new job only filled a speck of the hole Luka had left in her heart. By force of her will alone, Ciara hardened herself once more to love. Men were a fun, but unnecessary distraction. For now, until she got back into a routine and could trust herself, company — platonic, romantic, or sexual — was not something she needed.
“No, I’m fine. The apartment is small. There’s almost not enough space for two people to move around comfortably.”
Another fake laugh. Ciara resisted a cringe and fished her purse from beneath her desk. Rick wasn’t taking the hint, and he wasn’t backing down.
“But it’s your first day on camera; you should celebrate. Let me take you out for dinner.”
&n
bsp; “No.” Firm honesty, she reminded herself. Some men needed to be spoken to a little more firmly than others. Rick was no Luka; he wasn’t graced with social prowess. The dominance he tried to exude was clumsy and undesirable.
“Then at least a drink!”
“No. Rick, I really need to be going.” Ciara stood from her desk, plucked her coat from the back of her chair, and wove around him. The door from the office into the hallway taunted her, further away then she remembered it being. As though she’d agreed to go out with him, he trailed along behind her and kept talking.
“There’s a nice place close to here. Two blocks. I know you’d love it. Let me… “
“Goodbye, Rick. See you tomorrow.” Ciara escaped through the front door and took the hallway at a modest jog. Her heels clicked as she moved, and like a bat, Rick honed in on the sound and followed her down the hallway. The man’s determination was creeping her out.
“If you change your mind, let me know. I’ll friend you on Facebook!”
“Okay.” The elevator doors were just closing as she approached, and Ciara squeezed through them before she got trapped with Rick in the hall. She recognized the young woman standing beside her from another department.
“You must be the new girl, Ciara Simmons, right?” the woman asked. Ciara turned to face her. Plain features and messy hair made the woman unremarkable, but there was warmth and sympathy in her tone that Ciara appreciated.
“That’s me. Is it really such big news?”
“New faces are rare around here. Your reporting was on point today, too. Really good for a first timer.”
The few minutes of local fame she’d experienced at Luka’s side left her a recognizable figure. While Ciara wasn’t surprised the woman knew her name, she was surprised that she had something to say about her first day video reporting.
“I always wanted to write articles,” Ciara admitted, “but when I was offered the reporting position, I couldn’t turn it down. Turns out, I really enjoy it.”
“Mm. Well, we’re glad to have you, I’m sure. Especially Rick. Even down in production we’ve heard about him. I can’t say I envy you.”
Ciara traced the front of her teeth with her tongue nervously, contemplating what she’d just found out. If Rick’s infamy was that widespread, it meant she’d find support in her peers. It also meant that he wasn’t likely to stop any time soon, at least until she made herself painfully clear. That would come sooner rather than later — Ciara was never one to let a problem go unaddressed for long.
“What’s with him?” she asked, seeking guidance.
“Just lonely, I guess,” the woman replied. The elevator arrived at the ground floor, and the doors slid open smoothly. “Grin and bear it until he loses interest, or tell him what’s what. It’s New York, I’m sure he’s been told a hundred times by now.”
As the woman made her way across the lobby and into the February night, Ciara realized she’d never asked her name.
Compared to working for TCD, working for a news station was an enormous task. Over time she knew she’d become more familiar with her coworkers and her surroundings, but at a month in she’d yet to get in her groove. A life in the public eye meant no anonymity, and it was a reality Ciara knew she would have to adjust to. The longer she stayed on air, the more visible she’d become.
Spaced out on the train, caught up in her own thoughts on the walk to her apartment, it wasn’t until Ciara returned home that she pulled out her phone. During the work day the device was kept on silent and left unmonitored. Since she’d moved to the East Coast from Iowa, with more bridges burned and few people to keep in touch with, it was surprising when Ciara turned on her screen to find ten missed calls and a voicemail waiting. Had something happened to her grandparents? Tightening her lips, Ciara dialed her voicemail and pressed the phone to her ear. Maybe tonight wouldn’t be spent unpacking after all.
“I know that hearing from me is probably the last thing you want right now,” there was no mistaking that voice. Ciara’s heart jumped into her throat, sitting down on a rickety chair before her knees could give out. It was Luka. “But it’s important. I—”
The voicemail cut short, replaced with her ring tone. An incoming call paused Luka’s plea. Ciara drew the phone away from her ear and looked down at the call screen. For a long moment she considered not answering at all. What courtesy did she owe him? A man who broke up with her hours after she watched her friend gunned down in cold blood. A man who asked her for forever, only to crumble when the pressure got too intense? Not much. But knowing that she could show Luka just how well she was doing without him was too tempting. This call was the chance to prove to him that she’d moved on unscathed, even if that wasn’t the truth.
Ciara answered the phone.
“Hello?”
“Ciara, don’t hang up,” Luka’s voice pleaded with her. Four simple words were all it took to shatter her resolve. Ciara’s will wavered, tears brimmed her eyes. For a short while, Luka had been her forever, and it was foolish to think she could let it all go so easily. Hearing his voice reminded her of better times. Of happiness. Ciara willed herself to be fiercely independent, but it was impossible to forget him.
“What do you want, Luka?” The pangs of emotion put a frosty snap to her words. Luka was stunned into silence for a beat.
“Are you somewhere private?” he asked after a pause. “I don’t want anyone overhearing what I’m about to say.”
It all felt ridiculous. Ciara crossed her ankles and leaned back against the chair, gazing at the stucco ceiling as she fought her emotions.
“I’m alone,” she said. “What is it?”
“This Friday I’m taking Vittore down.” Ciara frowned just a little, but didn’t interrupt Luka as he continued. “I can’t tell you everything, but this could be historic. I want you to be there with your camera crew on Friday night to get it all. Be at the old Fisherman’s Warehouse by the shoreline Friday at eleven thirty at night.”
Ciara lifted her free hand and rubbed her eyes with her thumb and index finger, the curve of skin between them pressing against the bridge of her nose. She took a deep breath, as she collected her thoughts. Was this Luka’s attempt at making amends? If so, it was too late. The emotional wounds were still raw.
“How do I know this is real and you’re not just wasting my time?” she asked, voice as cold as ever.
“Listen, there’s gonna be a SWAT team. This isn’t some half-assed shot in the dark — I swear this is real. No other news team knows. If you’re there Friday, the story is yours.”
If what Luka said was true, this information was worth its weight in gold. With an exclusive story as earthshaking as Luka made it out to be, Ciara’s career would be set. With any luck, she was looking at a hefty raise and national acknowledgment. Doors would open for her that she never even knew existed. It was too good to be true.
“Why are you doing this?” she demanded. Both eyes opened, and she traced the small bumps in the ceiling as she waited for an answer. A previous tenant’s tobacco use had colored the white surface a faded, grimy brown.
“Because I don’t know another person who deserves a break as much as you do.”
From what she could tell, he spoke with sincerity. Despite it, Ciara stuck to her guns and kept her walls up. Once before she’d let Luka into her heart, and it ended in disaster. Just because he was being nice didn’t mean she had to be nice back.
“Then I suggest you start meeting people. I’ve been doing just fine for myself without any of your help so far. I’m making a name for myself.”
“And this will only make that name more impressive.”
The emotional, vulnerable part she tried to keep caged begged her to give in and soften to him. The longing to cast aside the ice and steel and melt for Luka again nearly overwhelmed her, but resilience proved more powerful.
“You made it clear that you don’t love me anymore,” Ciara said. The struggle between wanting him and respecting herself grew
, and Ciara set her jaw and spoke tersely as she struggled with herself. “Stop trying to be helpful out of the blue. Stop thinking about me. Let me get on with my life.”
“I just miss you so goddamn much.” The words made her wince, and Ciara let her head fall back in momentary defeat as Luka’s sorrow pierced her heart. The sincerity of what he said hit her hard. “There’s not a moment that goes by that I don’t think about you, that I don’t love you. Don’t think that I did this because I don’t care — I did it because I love you too fucking much to let anything happen to you. On Friday, if we can get Vittore, I hope we can be together again. I hope you can give me a second chance.”
Yes, her soul sobbed.
“No,” her lips said. There was silence as the rejection set in. Ciara continued. “I can’t be with someone who builds me up only to tear me down when it gets tough. I can’t be with a man who throws me away like garbage when the pressure builds. You say you love me, but then you do all these things that you know will hurt me. You’re not good for me, Luka, and I deserve better than you.”
“Ciara,” the sound of her name on his lips was like rain after a drought, “that’s not how it is. I wish I could make you understand, but I know where you’re coming from. I know how it looks to you. I’m so sorry.”
Love isn’t weakness, a small part of her said. Tell him you love him, too. Tell him you can work things out. That’s not a defeat.
“Then you understand.”
“I do. Take this as a peace offering if you can’t forgive me. If you show up Friday, you’ll be set for life. I owe you that much.”
Ciara wasn’t sure she could resist him if she were to see him there in person. But how could she turn down such a valuable offer?
“I’ll talk to my guys and see what they want to do,” she said, not willing to commit. If she didn’t get off the phone, Ciara knew he’d tear into her defenses and weaken her once more. It was time to go. “Goodbye, Luka.”
