Covert Interview
Page 10
When Preston came out of the bathroom he was dressed, although his hair was still wet. Elle realized she should have joined him in the shower. They had showered together before. Dammit, missed opportunity. She reached out for him, not even bothering to cover her naked breasts, but her arm brushed against her purse, which was on the nightstand. Her purse fell to the floor.
Preston grinned and picked it up for her. He bent back down and picked up a card. “What’s this?”
It was Lyle’s business card.
“A friend?”
Elle shot upright. “Oh, that’s- a guy gave it to me when I was out having lunch with Betsy.”
At Preston’s raised eyebrow, she continued. “I told you about Betsy- she’s one of the librarians here in Norfolk. We went out to lunch, and this guy gave me- each of us- his card.” She hated to add in that little fib but figured it would be easier. Why the hell hadn’t she thrown it out? She hadn’t even thought about Lyle’s card since Marni discovered it in France.
“Easy there,” he assured her with a smile as he sat on the edge of the bed. “It’s no big deal: you know the score. You’re free to do whatever you want.”
“But I haven’t done anything,” Elle protested. Talk about some seriously bad timing. “I never even called that guy!”
Preston held up his hand. “Okay, no need to get worked up.” He leaned down and kissed her, settling his hand on one of her breasts and giving it a gentle squeeze.
Elle couldn’t stop herself from arching into his touch. “I just- I want you to know I haven’t- I haven’t been with anyone…” She let her words trail off as he continued touching her, his fondling growing firmer. She was going to miss him- and this- so much. Once she was lying back again, he continued.
“I’m gone for long stretches of time: it’s not even predictable. You can’t put your life on hold waiting for me to show up.”
“My life is not on hold,” Elle insisted. She just had to find a few things to do, once she settled in at work more, and there were plenty of options besides getting mired in the dating swamp. Besides she couldn’t imagine being with anyone else. Didn’t want to.
“Your cell hasn’t rung all weekend.”
Elle shrugged. “So? Betsy knows you’re here, and so do Marni and Tina- we talk by computer anyway-”
“Didn’t you say Betsy’s married?” There was the spy part of him: most guys didn’t remember details about their girlfriend’s friends, but he did.
“Yes, yes she is-”
“So who are you hanging out with outside of work?” Preston’s voice remained gentle as he continued to stroke her hair.
“Not Lyle,” Elle insisted. She took the card out of his hand and threw it away in the trash can by the bed. Actions spoke louder than words, right? “I’m just lazy about cleaning out my purse: I had no intention of calling him.”
Preston continued to regard her.
“Don’t you believe me?” she finally asked.
With a sad smile, he nodded. “I do,” he told her, cupping her cheek. “That’s the problem. You can’t sit around waiting for me to show up.”
“I-” And then she realized what he was getting at. “I’ve been- I’ve been busy with work.” Preston didn’t look convinced, so she pressed on, determined to make him see. “Going between Norfolk and Charlottesville, getting settled into two apartments- I haven’t even had a chance to get up to DC yet- I’ve had my hands full, and Marni won’t be here until next week, so she hasn’t been able to help in Charlottesville-”
“Charlottesville’s a couple of hours away.” His voice remained gentle.
“I’ll be living there part-time!” Elle drew in a deep breath. She needed to calm down. Now. “I’m going to get out more here, too: I just haven’t had time yet.”
Preston said, “I’ll likely be gone for months on this new op.”
Months? Things went blurry for a moment, but she gritted her teeth and focused on him. She tried to speak but her throat felt too thick. He leaned down and captured her lips for a kiss that left her breathless. Dammit, he could see her reaction to his news, and she didn’t want him to see it. She wasn’t sure where this was going, but she was sure falling apart wasn’t going to make anything better.
“There’s always the possibility I won’t come back.”
His words had her squeezing her eyes tight. She knew the risks, but it didn’t mean she wanted to think about them. She nodded, tried to speak, wanting to reassure him that she understood, but her throat was too thick for her to say anything.
“We’ve talked about the score,” he said, his eyes gentle. “But… do you really know the score?”
The Chinese food she’d eaten earlier was lead in her stomach. “Yes! Yes, I know the score-”
“Do you really?” He brushed a wisp of hair off her forehead.
“I know the score.” Elle grew still. His touch wasn’t comforting anymore.
Preston bent further down and reached into the trash basket before sitting up again with Lyle’s card in his hand.
“I think it would be best-”
“Preston, wait- stop- this isn’t necessary!” Elle sat upright, pulling the sheets up to cover her breasts. She felt too exposed. “I know the score.” She had to pause to keep the tremor out of her voice and clear her eyes. Once she was sure she could talk in a steady tone, she spoke again. “I know what you do; I understand. It’s okay.” After a long pause, she repeated, “I know the score.”
“I’m not sure you do,” Preston finally said. She was beginning to hate the gentleness in his voice. “You’re an amazing woman, Elle; you shouldn’t be sitting around, just waiting. It’s not fair to you-”
“People date-even marry- people in the Navy. Why is this any different?”
“The Navy has specific deployment schedules. I don’t.”
Why was he doing this? Why did everyone act as if she was some naïve simpleton who didn’t understand the score? “I think I’m old enough to decide whether or not I’ll wait around.” She was glad her voice sounded strong; maybe sounding more confident would reassure him.
Preston set the card down on the nightstand. “I’ve had a great time with you, Elle.” He gave her bare arm a squeeze. “Take care of yourself. Maybe we can meet up sometime at the Agency.”
“Preston, wait-” Elle started to stand up but remembered she was completely naked. She grabbed the sheet and tried to wrap it around herself but pulling it out from where it was tucked under the mattress slowed her down. He was already making his way through the apartment.
“Lock the door behind me,” he called back. Elle got to the bedroom doorway just in time to see the door shut. By the time she threw some clothes on, she knew he would be long gone.
Chapter Thirteen
Elle had never felt numbness like this: it was a numbness that seemed to sink into her skin, through her muscles, and settle into her very bones. It set in with the click of the door shutting behind Preston. The numbness pervaded her body even as she wrapped herself up tight in her sheets and curled up in her bed.
She knew the score. What the hell was the matter with Preston? Had he just gotten tired of her? He hadn’t acted that way. If she closed her eyes, she could still feel his hands on her skin, him inside of her. Now he was gone. And he wasn’t coming back. Whether his op took him months or not, Elle knew, with a certainty, that he wasn’t walking back through her doorway again.
Maybe they would see each other at the agency. She wasn’t even supposed to be at the agency except for special circumstances. He damn well knew that, which meant he must know it wasn’t going to happen. And he had stridden out the door with seemingly no effort. Elle squeezed her eyes shut, focusing on the sting in them until it lessened.
When she opened her eyes again, they fell on Lyle’s business card. Preston had dug that business card out of the trash- another man’s card- and told her to call him. He was actually trying to fix her up with someone else. Elle ripped the card to pieces before
letting them drift down into the wastebasket. She sure as hell didn’t need Preston’s help to find another guy, dammit. If she wanted another guy, she could find one.
Elle jumped up out of bed, not caring that the sheets fell, leaving her standing butt naked. No one was there to see her. She was all alone.
She needed to take a shower.
Elle hurried to the bathroom. It was still misty from Preston’s shower. The tiles were wet, but she stepped on them anyway. She felt unclean all of a sudden, even though Preston always wore a condom. She turned on the water, jumping slightly when the freezing blast hit her. The cold water seemed to crack the bone-deep numbness that pervaded her. The water warmed up fast as she soaped herself, scrubbing her skin as steam rose around her, enveloping her, and further melting some of the numbness inside.
She squeezed her burning eyes shut before putting her head directly under the stream of water to soak her hair. Elle didn’t know why her hands were shaking as she reached for the shampoo, squeezing out far more than she needed to soap her hair up, keeping her eyes closed so the suds wouldn’t get in them. She practically scoured her scalp with her fingernails but couldn’t get herself to ease up, wanting to wash away the feel of his fingers in her hair from when he was stroking her hair while dumping her like she was an- an- an unwanted leftover.
The first sob burst out of her throat, startling her with its occurrence and its intensity, but once the first one escaped, more followed. The sobs felt strong enough to rupture her throat, but she couldn’t stop them or even soften them any. Even with her eyes squeezed shut, tears began to slide out. She opened her eyes, but between the tears and the steam, she couldn’t see a thing. Dripping suds forced her to close her eyes again, but it was too late: the soap stung her eyes, which just led to even more tears.
When Elle finally got out of the shower, she barely noticed how red her skin was as she dried herself off. At least she couldn’t feel Preston’s hands on her skin anymore. She pulled on a shapeless oversized nightshirt. It wasn’t like it mattered; no one was going to see her in it anyway. She dragged herself to her bed, feeling weak as she flopped down. She lay prostrate on her bed, her pillow damp, her hair a tangled mess. Her mind was blank; even her brain was exhausted. Yet she couldn’t fall asleep so she simply lay there in the dark.
***
When her alarm clock went off the next morning, Elle struggled to get her scratchy eyes open. Her head ached. Had she gone out drinking last night? She hit the snooze button before rolling over onto her back. And then she remembered.
Preston had dumped her.
Elle rubbed her eyes. She had a perfect attendance record; this would be a great day to skip class. There was no way she could concentrate anyway.
But she didn’t have class. She had work. And she was in the middle of a ninety day probationary period, so missing work was not a good idea. Would Mason even know if she called in sick? She hadn’t heard from him since she completed the op in France. With the way her luck was going, today would be the day he showed up.
Elle forced her legs over the side of the bed, pushed herself up into a sitting position. She could do this. She was an adult; this was what adults did. They went to work unless they were physically unable to. She wasn’t physically unable. Her heart may have felt like it was broken, but it was still doing its job, pumping blood through her body. Elle forced herself to her feet. See, she was still standing. She shuffled to the bathroom. She needed to start doing yoga again. Tina would kick her ass if she saw her moving like an old woman. Raleigh probably didn’t have this much trouble getting out of bed.
Her reflection was a fright. Since she hadn’t combed her hair after getting out of the shower, it was tangled. Her eyes were still pink and puffy, and her face looked swollen. Marni swore by cucumbers to reduce swelling, but she didn’t have any cucumbers. A cold wash cloth would have to do.
Some of the numbness had settled back in by the time Elle was dressed, but it wasn’t bone deep. Just enough for her walk around without feeling like an open wound. Although she felt different, she was glad to see that she didn’t look different by the time she was ready to go. She had washed and conditioned her hair again, which made it easier to get the tangles out. The cold wash cloth had done the trick, reducing the swelling and redness. With her glasses on, her eyes looked normal. Her lightweight slacks, blouse and jacket were all pressed: no wrinkles. She looked fine.
***
“What on God’s green earth happened to you?” Betsy demanded as soon as she saw Elle. Of course she was working up front at the circulation desk that day. Elle had been hoping to just slink into her office and hide for a bit.
Yet she surprised herself when her lips started to tremble as she tried to smile. Her vision blurred, and she felt a now-familiar sting in her eyes. Oh God. She couldn’t break down at work.
“Oh my goodness,” Betsy said as she hurried to open up the door. Elle was grateful she didn’t have to fish for her keycard, at least. She took a few deep breaths. She would not be so unprofessional as to cry at work.
“Your visit with Preston…” Betsy’s voice trailed off as she squeezed Elle’s arm.
Elle forced her eyes to clear. “We’re over.” She hated the huskiness in her voice, so she cleared her throat.
Someone rang the bell at the front desk. Betsy gave her hand a squeeze before hurrying back around the wall to the circulation desk. Elle shook her head in an effort to clear it, but that just intensified her headache. Great. It had just been a dull ache before. She was pretty sure she had some aspirin in her purse.
Betsy came back around the corner, her eyes apologetic. “Elle- your nine o’clock appointment is here.”
Elle had become the go-to person for all of the doctoral students getting familiar with the library for their dissertations. She had forgotten she even had an appointment first thing this morning.
“Let me go get settled,” she told Betsy. “I’ll call when I’m ready. I just need-” she drew in another deep breath, determined to keep her voice steady, “a few minutes.”
“It’s no problem,” Betsy assured her. “He can wait a short spell. And… we’ll go out to lunch?”
At least Elle could smile then. “Sounds great.”
She continued to breathe deeply as she made her way back to her office. At this point she had created a little packet of information for the doctoral students to take with them, so she got one of the packets out. It kept her busy without having to look at the library’s functioning, which was probably for the best as far as Raleigh was concerned.
Once Elle was settled at her desk and sure she could keep it together, she called down to the circulation desk. “Send him back.”
In less than a minute, there was a knock on her door. He may have been in his collegiate outfit of jeans and a t-shirt, but it didn’t make Mason any less recognizable.
Chapter Fourteen
Mason shut the door after entering and wasted no time pulling out the white noise machine and getting it set up. Only after it was going did he speak as he sat down across from her. She thought she should take a page out of his book and get a higher chair for herself, just like he had in his office. The thought amused her, but she bit the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling.
“We have a problem,” he said.
Elle raised an eyebrow. She had a sense of déjà vu. “Again?”
“The program has been successfully integrated into Willliams-Whitman Holdings.”
Problem? “That was the goal, right?”
No change in his expression as he regarded her. Elle didn’t even know why she looked for one anymore. She just waited. He hadn’t driven over four hours from Langley just to tell her there was a problem.
“We’ve had some success in blocking sales and following some transactions but a fairly high number are still getting through, even with your modifications.” He pulled out stack of papers and dropped them on her desk. “An unacceptably high number.”
Elle
skimmed the output, trying to stay focused despite the flutter of panic that spread its wings in her stomach. Dammit. This was what she did well, or at least it was supposed to be what she did well. “I’ll go through this more closely,” she said, “and let you know what I find.”
“You do that.”
Elle was so busy scanning the output that it took her a couple of minutes before glancing up and realizing Mason was still sitting there, looking at her.
“Have you spoken with your father since returning from France?” he asked.
Elle shook her head. “We don’t talk much.” She wondered how that sounded; everyone else she knew spoke with their parents at least once a week or so. “I’ve been busy-” she gestured around “getting settled and all.”
Mason nodded and rose. If he thought there was anything unusual, he didn’t betray it. Then again, he didn’t betray anything. “Make this your top priority. I want a progress report tomorrow morning.”
“Tomorrow morning?!” These things took time.
“Nine am.” He unplugged the white noise machine and stowed it in his backpack before zipping it.
Her head began to pound at the thought of all the work ahead. Somewhere, she had to have some aspirin.
***
Elle had never felt as exhausted as when she left work that evening. She had locked herself up in her office all day but had no success trying to figure out why the algorithms were missing so much. And really, all she wanted to do was curl up and cry, as pathetic as that was. She didn’t feel like any of the takeout places, but ice cream wouldn’t hurt, especially not in this heat.