Cover Up

by Laura Westbrook

  “He didn’t. That’s the problem. We met right after the accident, but I had long sleeves on. I looked crazy, I know, but…he never saw any of my injuries until last night. Right after we kissed. The angle must have been just right, or my clothes got rumpled a little—I don’t know, but he saw my shoulder, enough to see that I was bruised and realized that’s why I’ve been wearing long sleeves lately.”

  “And now he thinks you’re not being honest with him.”

  “I think he’s worried that someone at work is rough or…I don’t know. He may think I have some kind of crazy ex I can’t get out of my life.”

  “Why can’t you just tell him the truth?”

  For a moment, it seemed so easy. She could go tell him and ask him not to tell anyone else. She could trust him. It wasn’t like he knew where she worked. She’d never mentioned which company she worked for. But then he’ll know I lied to him to begin with.

  Before she could say anything, her phone rang. It was Nancy, telling her that her first client was on their way up from the lobby.

  “I should get going,” Amy said. “Before anyone on my floor starts realizing I’m gone. But think about it, Nicole. Would our company really fire you for driving a car into a lamp post to save the life of a stray cat?”

  Amy made it sound so simple, but she didn’t know the way executives were treated. She hadn’t been warned by Leila to keep her personal life spotless…or else.

  Nicole worked her way through her appointments, and the day went by, faster than she’d expected. Soon it was time to head home. The day had turned cold by then, so she hailed a cab. It just wasn’t the day for walking home.

  She rested her head back as she rode along, still arguing with herself. Was it better to leave things as they were and see how Branson handled it? Or to come clean and admit that she’d lied to begin with? She might explain it by saying she’d just met him and didn’t know who he was, that she was scared and hadn’t even moved into her new office at the time.

  But did he care about her enough to forgive something like that? He clearly liked her, but did he just want to continue casually seeing her? Was she a friendship-fling while he found his footing in the city and eventually, things would cool down? Or did he want a relationship with her? She didn’t know, and his gifts didn’t tell her one way or another. They didn’t give her the confidence she needed to know how to handle this mess.

  Soon, her cab reached the curb outside her apartment complex. She had her key, though, so she paid the driver and walked inside. It was quiet. The only sound was the noise of her key sliding into the mailbox and wriggling. After that came the usual light tap of her fist, the only way to make the door work. It opened, and she reached in for her mail.

  She hit the stairs and walked up slowly while looking through the letters. She stopped and turned one over in her hand, then gazed at the front of it.

  Why is the company sending me a letter? Maybe it was some sort of congratulations on her promotion kind of thing, just a little late. It couldn’t be a warning, a reprimand about her “unprofessional behavior,” could it?

  She sat on the steps and ripped down the side of the envelope.

  Our company is proud of our employees and seek to offer each person a place where they can reach their full potential and enjoy the rewards of their productivity. Despite living in an age where technology allows communication across the globe, we’ve found that people work best when they can interact in a more direct manner, sharing the same work environment and fostering a creative work atmosphere. Due to your recent promotion, we are including you in this notification. All executives of your tier will be required to relocate to Seattle. This is a preliminary note, and your manager will be discussing this with you in person. We look forward to working with you locally for the first time.

  Seattle? She read the letter again as she huddled to one side of the steps to let the other residents pass her by. There were more details and fine print further down the page, but that was the important part.

  She reread the letter. It didn’t sound like a reprimand, though. Everyone else like her was being relocated, and not just her, and the letter said further down that the moving costs were being paid for by the company. She hadn’t been singled out in any way. This was supposed to be a great honor, a solidification of her position and success. The company felt that isolating its executives didn’t work as well as bringing people together, which she supposed she understood.

  She dashed down the hallway. She needed to talk to Amy and Tiffany. There was so much to consider before she made any kind of decision. If she accepted, she’d be moving out of the state—but if she didn’t, she’d likely have to step down from her new job. She shot around the corner to her apartment and ran into a mass of red and white balloons, almost tripping on the box on the floor.

  Damn it.

  She pushed past the balloons and picked up the box. Then, arms full, she entered her apartment. She deposited the balloons in her bedroom, and the whole corner was full of them as they bobbed up and down. She returned back to the living room and looked at the box, which was wrapped in red paper with a massive bow. There was a card tucked underneath the ribbon. She tugged at it with her nail, slicing through the adhesive.

  Hey beautiful. Sorry about how last night ended. Whenever you’re ready to talk, I’m ready to listen. Dinner will be served at seven.

  She looked at the clock. It was almost six. She rubbed her temples for a moment. It was all too much.

  She wasn’t sure she should even bother getting into a complicated relationship anymore. It had been fun, but it felt like falling from an airplane or facing a wave without a surfboard. She didn’t know if there was a destination or if it was just a ride. As things stood, there was no way she could go to dinner that night, no matter how much she wanted to. She pulled out the letter and reread it.

  Seattle…

  She sat with her cell phone and scrolled down to Tiffany’s number. No answer. She read the letter again. Toward the end, it said she only had two weeks to think it over before making a decision, though it hinted that she’d be “contacted with further details.”

  She wondered if her new boss would try to call from Seattle. They might try to reach her via phone after work, given the time difference, and the last thing she needed was to be in the middle of a dinner “date” with Branson when they called to discuss the position with her, giving her one more thing she wasn’t ready to talk to him about. She kicked off her shoes and lay on the couch, resting her head on a cushion with the phone handy and the letter lying on her lap. She read it again.

  What am I supposed to do? She glanced over and looked at the box of chocolates on the table. Branson, I hate gifts. If you want to say something, just say it and don’t try to prove it with “things.” She closed her eyes and thought about going to dinner.

  “There’s no way I can go now,” she said aloud. “Ugh. I feel so confused.”

  She couldn’t stay here if she wanted to keep her new job. But she also wanted things to work out with Branson. She placed her hand over her stomach. Branson had just moved up to New York. There was no way he’d want to follow her to Seattle. They were just friends-ish. Not dating and certainly not in a committed relationship yet. That story about his paycheck was pretty wild—so who knew what else he wasn’t telling her about his life?

  This was an important night, full of big decisions. She needed to be by herself. She knew she should probably send him a note, explaining that she couldn’t come to dinner that night, but she thought that might make things worse. He might interpret that just as badly as her absence, and he might come knocking to see if she was all right.

  Besides, she couldn’t think of anything to say.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Nicole dressed for work the next day without looking forward to it in the slightest. She had so much built-up tension in her life, and the chocolate and balloons which took up the right corner of her bedroom only made things worse.
r />   It’s a bit much…like his paycheck story. An elaborate attempt to impress me.

  She picked up her bag and punched a balloon on her way out the bedroom.

  Walking to work had been working out for her, so she decided to keep it going. She hoped it would put her in a better mood. She needed time to think. She pulled out her headphones and placed them against her ears, then hit play on her playlist. She let the music embrace her while she ambled toward the office, joining the throng of other people on their way to get wherever they needed to be. With the music playing, it felt like everyone was in a world of silence, miming their actions without saying a thing.

  One more block, and she’d be at the office. She decided to cut through the park and take in some nature before being faced with the brick-and-mortar of the rest of her day. She loved the furnishings of her swanky downtown office, but it wasn’t exactly a calming, peaceful place, especially when she might be leaving it soon. So she turned off the sidewalk, taking a path that wound through the grass. She found herself by the pond, and the ducks swam toward her hoping for food.

  She put her hand in her pocket, surprised to find she’d refilled her rice bag. She must’ve done it on autopilot, or perhaps she’d planned on walking through the park without realizing it. She tried to smile as she tossed fistfuls to the ducks, who squabbled around in the water for the tasty morsels.

  She pulled the headphones from her ears and listened to the sounds of nature. She could hear the faint sounds of the city all around her, surrounding the park like a halo, though today, it felt like a cage. The sounds of car horns and the odd scream of a cab driver were more than enough to make her want to return to her music.

  She tossed another handful of rice into the water, then turned to walk away. That was when she noticed a man standing by the pond, a few dozen paces away. He wore his collar pulled up and a scarf wrapped around his neck. He worked to get a pair of leather gloves over his hands. She knew he looked familiar.

  She realized she could walk away and Branson would have no idea. She could just turn on her heel and nobody would be the wiser. But they were neighbors. She could bump into him at any point, and she didn’t want things to always be awkward. So she took out another handful of rice, her bag not yet empty, and eased her way down the edge of the water until she stood near him, in a casual sort of way. When the ducks began splashing around, welcoming this second offering, she said, “Having a better day than the rest of us?”

  He turned, and his eyebrows shot up. She smiled as best she could, still unsure where things stood. She’d no-showed him. She hadn’t even explained her absence.

  “It looks like they’re enjoying themselves,” he said at last, pointing to the ducks.

  “Every little bit helps,” she said. “The ducks, I mean. It’s hard for them here.”

  “It’s hard for all of us.”

  She wondered what brought him to the park. Had he taken the day off? Or had he somehow known she’d walk through the park? Maybe he’d seen her walking out the door without taking a taxi and had left after her, hoping to bump into her somehow. Or he could’ve left before I did. He hadn’t acted like he’d known she’d be there. It was a popular park.

  “Missing Florida?”

  “I feel like I miss a lot of things,” he said softly. “I missed you when you didn’t come for dinner. I was…” He cut himself off. “It doesn’t matter. It’s only food at the end of the day. It’ll keep.”

  She watched as he gazed across the pond. Light clouds of his breath formed in the fresh air. She could see that Branson wasn’t going to push—he wasn’t going to ask why she hadn’t come or make her feel guilty about how he’d waited for who-knew-how-long. A lot of guys would moan and complain, but not him. Like his note had said, he’d be there for her when she wanted to talk. Until then, he’d be patient. And he still was.

  “I didn’t expect to see you here, but I’m glad it worked out this way,” he said, turning to face her at last. “I figured I’d better apologize. Thinking it over, I realized I got carried away. The balloons and chocolates were probably too much. I let my feelings run away with me without ever asking if you were ready or wanted that kind of attention.”

  There it was again, the hint that she might be with someone else, maybe someone who had caused the bruises.

  “I’m not seeing anyone else, if that’s what you’re asking,” she said. “But I appreciate that. It’s not like you were doing anything wrong, really. You just wanted to do something nice. And here I am taking things the wrong way.”

  It was probably good they were having this conversation. It needed to be done, clearing the air between them in preparation for whatever decision she’d make about her future. He didn’t even know about the letter, yet. He somehow read her mind and knew what was bothering her, a skill that wasn’t very common, at least in her experience.

  In a weird way, her first crush had done precisely the same thing, making her life miserable by not explaining anything. Although it hadn’t been balloons and chocolates. It was a cheap bottle of perfume bought at the county fair. She’d been handed a bottle of perfume in a rush before the boy ran off. Her friends had teased her about it for years, as she’d never known if it was meant as a profession of undying love or a joke somehow.

  That was probably when she’d taken an aversion to receiving gifts unexpectedly. She felt that, if you weren’t in a relationship, you shouldn’t be getting “stuff.” It was better to talk about your feelings rather than try to get your point across with materialistic things. She didn’t like romantic gifts in general. They were too open to interpretations. She liked clear messages, such as “Your hair needs this conditioner” or “This laundry soap will work wonders.” It was partly why she liked advertising so much—no ambiguity.

  She returned her now-empty bag to her pocket. “I should get going. I don’t want to be too late for work. My boss hates that.” She gave him a half smile, just to let him know that everything was okay between the two of them. At the very least, they had the friends thing down.

  He didn’t seem to believe her. Instead, he held his arm out. “Come on. Let’s just walk for a little while.”

  She hesitated, but she supposed it wouldn’t hurt, especially if they walked in the direction of her work. A glance at her watch said she still had time. She placed her hand on his arm, and they started the walk together. He talked about the weather, about how cold it was getting and how some New Yorkers could be deceptive in what they wore, running around in light sweaters or even T-shirts, making you think it was warm. To her, it felt like they’d reached a stalemate in a checkers game, and they were just going through the motions.

  Are we ever going to move forward? He’d come on too strong for their undefined relationship, but that didn’t mean she wanted to stay there. It didn’t even mean she hadn’t liked his eagerness. She just wanted to know what it meant.

  She liked being friends with him, but if they were going to try to be more than that, she wanted to be able to have some input as to what that would look like. To be asked. To talk about it. She wanted him to be himself, but she also wanted to get to be herself, too, and she was a planner, someone who liked discussing things with honesty and commitment. She didn’t want him to prove his love by buying her things or by showing her how much money he made. She wanted to be treated as his equal.

  A silence fell over them, and neither rushed to break it. She wished he’d just tell her something about how he felt. What his plans were. She wanted the comfort of knowing everything was going to be okay.

  Following her new job to Seattle was a very tempting offer, and giving that up would be hard. It would be walking away from everything she’d worked so hard to achieve, sitting on the bench and letting someone else take her place. She wasn’t sure if what she had with Branson—whatever she had with Branson—was worth that.

  But if she didn’t quit her job, it would be the end of everything between them. Their “relationship” wasn’t even worki
ng that well when they lived right next door, and they clearly didn’t have the communication channels set up to make a long-distance relationship work. Either he indicated that what they had was worth waiting for, worth changing the direction of her career for, or she’d be gone.

  Without warning, he leaned closer. His arms wrapped around her shoulders, and he drew her to him. She almost thought about pulling away, but she’d already rejected him the night before where dinner was concerned. She didn’t want him thinking she didn’t like him—and besides, she wanted another kiss. So she let him hold her, let him come closer until his lips were placed gently against hers.

  She let her worries wash away while she embraced him, enjoying the way he made her feel, but in the back of her mind, jackhammers were battering away at her thoughts, continuing to ask if this was enough. If it meant anything. She stepped away at last and leaned against him. She could feel his strong body holding her, and she liked the way that felt.

  He turned so he could look directly into her eyes. She felt the power in his hands as they cupped each of her cheeks. She smiled and looked at him through mature eyes. Eyes of a woman who had her own mind and was capable of making her own destiny. She didn’t need anyone else, but she wanted him.

  It was a merry-go-round, with the both of them going around in circles, constantly chasing each other without going anywhere. The relocation of her job to Seattle was the emergency brake to the darn thing. She was so close to cranking it back and jumping off, but she knew that meant leaving him behind.

  She stood on her tip-toes and placed her lips against his one more time. There’s no reason to not enjoy the moment. Her window to make a decision wasn’t over yet.

  His jacket was unbuttoned, and he wrapped the two sides around her, as though to pull her closer and shut out the rest of the world. She wasn’t cold. She had a fire running deep within her veins from feeling his body next to hers. She leaned forward more. She had to admit, they fit together perfectly.