Page 66 of Power Games

Until she said it, it hadn't registered that Vanessa was walking away from a flourishing career for at least a year, maybe more. Hopefully more.

“Are you okay with that? Slowing down?”

"I think it might be a good thing, really. I've been climbing for years without a proper break; time to smell the roses, you know. And I won't stay idle. I'll work on my voice, prepare a kickass comeback album, that sort of thing."

Of course she would. It didn't change the fact that it was a risk as well as a sacrifice.

"Why are you doing this, Vanessa?" he asked for the second time.

Something didn't add up. He couldn't wrap his mind around it, but he felt like he was missing a key component whenever he examined her actions.

The first time he'd asked about her motivations, she'd refused to give him a clear answer. "And you don’t need one," she'd said. But he did. If he was supposed to trust her, he needed to know what she hoped to gain from all of this.

Silence. She didn't say a thing, making him feel like getting to the bottom of it was crucial.

"Vanessa—"

"I'm at the airport. Catch you later, okay?"

Charles stopped walking in the middle of the hallway, theories whispering in his ears.

She wants power. She wants notoriety. She has a grudge against her brother. She can't be trusted. She may have killed Izzy.

In the mist of all this, he only paid attention to one voice.She wants you. Just you.

He closed his eyes. "We need to talk about this."

"I finish what I start, Charles. When I told them I was with you that Saturday morning, I made a decision there was no coming back from. If I hadn't followed through, right now I'd still be that ho who fucked a married man, and you'd still be the asshole who may have killed your wife. We both needed a story."

Charles sighed. "I'd trust you more if you didn't try to bullshit me quite so often. You needed a story for two weeks, two months. Not years. You have no investment in this."

"I don't," she admitted. "But you conveniently forget a significant fact. We're friends, Charles. And I believe in you."

Could it be as simple as that?

"Enough to marry me."

"I'm twenty-seven. According to society, I have to marrysomeone. Might as well be one of my friends. Plus, you're hot. That doesn't hurt."

He exhaled slowly. He could work with that. He didn't think she'd bared her soul and laid out all of her motives, but he couldn't blame her. It wasn't like he was openly sharing his thoughts and emotions either.

Charles was suddenly conscious of the fact that, just like he didn't quite trust her, Vanessa also remained somewhat guarded. Maybe it was a mutual thing. Maybe her walls would only crumble if he took his down.

Little chance of that.

"All right. Have a good flight."

"Have a great day at work. Talk later."

They would talk later, that day, the day after, and the day after that. The only reason why he didn’t smile was because he knew that the kind of agreement they'd entered had an expiration date.

Whenever it ceased to benefit her, whenever she achieved her goal, she'd walk away from him.

* * *

"How about you call me Pudding?"

"No way."

---