Page 40 of Truth Be Told
His jaw relaxes, the wave of realization settling over him in the same way it did me. Except I don’t know why he would relax in response – my reaction was rage. Maybe he’s simply glad to finally be on the same wavelength as me. Or maybe I’m reading him all wrong, and his relief is actually shock.
He turns without a word and starts heading down the hall.
Okay. So I guess it’s shock.
“Wait,” I say, grabbing his arm at the elbow. “You don’t want to go back there. Trust me.” Really, I don’t want him to leave me; I also don’t want to risk seeing a side of Cohen I’ve never seen before – and that seems to be a real possibility, judging by the new look in his eyes. It looks as though a flame was lit inside them.
“Stella, I believe you. Of course I do–”
“I know that,” I say, cutting him off.
“So let me take care of this.”
“I know you need to, and I know you will. But can’t we just get out of here? I just…” My voice wavers. I was going to say I just want to get out of here, but I don’t know what I want. Cohen is right. I would love for him to take care of this, in whatever way he feels is right, but I can’t think straight enough for that right now. My equilibrium is still off.
Cohen moves in swiftly. Before I know it, he has me wrapped in his arms, my cheek pressed against the top of his chest. I curl my hand around his arm, his muscles hard and moving beneath my fingers.
“Listen to me,” he says when he pulls away. “Scarlet is… she won’t be working here after today, let’s just say that. The same goes for whoever you just saw back there.”
“That doesn’t make it much better.”
“You’re right. It doesn’t. But it’s a start.” He sighs a heady sigh, one full of angst, and I feel bad for pulling him in two different directions. “And it’s the best I can do right now.”
I know now that Cohen would never lie to me, but his last statement wasn’t exactly the truth. The way the muscles of his forearms are clenched, the way he keeps resisting looking back over his shoulder, the way he’s moved closer to me as if trying to protect me from something unseen all tell me that he’s even more upset about the situation than I am. He leaves no doubt about what he wishes he could do right now. I’m sure he has something on his mind, something better.
There’s one other thing. Something he needs to clarify for me before this can be put to rest. “Will you just tell me something?”
“Okay.”
I bite my lower lip. “How do you know Scarlet, anyway?”
The elevator finally reaches our landing. Its doors slide open in front of us, and as soon as he answers my question, I want to take Cohen’s hand, pull him out of this building and leave with him.
“Scarlet works here, that’s all. She’s nothing to me.”
“And… she’s never been anything to you? In the past, I mean.”
Cohen doesn’t answer. What he does do is press his lips together and briefly hold up his finger, as if telling me to hang on a second.
“Where are you going?” By the time I’ve asked, he’s already too far away for me to stop him.
Oh God. He is going back there, after all. I hesitate. Should I go with him?
I continue to stand still, frozen in place as he disappears, his shoulders squared to take care of business. I guess the answer to my last question about Scarlet is a resoundingno.
COHEN
I breathe out as I sink into my black leather chair, bouncing back and forth a few times before coming to a rest to pump out the last of my work. The thought of meeting with Stella in a few minutes is the only thing keeping me going. Outside, a couple of our secretaries snicker together. They’re new here, but still… I hate it when they do that shit. I’ve told them before to knock it off. It’s unprofessional, not to mention unbecoming. It’s hard finding secretaries that can live up to all the strict rules we have in place, being the high-profile business that we are. I’ve been thinking of trying out someone from an agency, to see if their professionalism is more up to par, but nothing’s set in stone yet.
I finish up what needs to be done, flicking my signature over the last few sheets of the only somewhat-important papers, then rest back and stretch my arms above my head.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see a figure sweep past my office, but I pay them no mind. Normally I’d stick my head out to see who it is, because on any other day it would be someone looking for me – but by some miracle I was able to clear my schedule for the next four hours, and I’m already mentally checked out.
It’s only when the figure returns a few minutes later, this time running, that I stand at attention. I pull open my office door and step into the middle of the hallway.
“Stella?” I can’t tell if it’s her, but it looks like her from here. If itisher, she must not have heard me. I break into a jog to catch up to her. If itisher… something’s wrong.
“Stella?” I say again when I round the corner. She’s waiting at the elevator, almost more panicked than she was when I pulled her out of that bad spot at Sapphire. When I reach her, I expect her to fall into my arms, the way she always looks like she wants to; instead, she looks like she wants nothing less.
