Page 58 of Breathe
Chapter 21
At work, still feeling a little delicate but determined to get back to whatever normal was now, Ellen made her usual bumper mug of tea and tried to read her emails. But she found she couldn’t settle down enough to read until she’d Googled her name and Kane’s. Okay, sure; the only place that cared enough to post a picture of her car driving out of his parking garage was some gossipy website with so many ads no one probably bothered to load it. But the arrests, and the aftermath of the fire in New Hampshire, were still news.
Kane’s picture, taken after that fire, made him look as drawn and ill as he’d eventually become after Thanksgiving; the lines on either side of his mouth had deepened, his eyes more shadowed and haunted than ever. The business pages speculated wildly about what was making him look so worried, and despite his assurances last week, everyone was figuring that some mills were going to have to close.
Her blood began to boil again. Didn’t they see that they put more pressure on him when they made these ridiculous guesses? What was the point of Leo Palmer’s office putting out press releases when they ignored them? But even with the photographic evidence that Kane was taking the fires hard, his silence over the weekend, coupled with the fact that she’d stayed in his apartment, led the media to suggest that he was fiddling while Rome literally burned.
Work, she reminded herself. Get back to work. If she was going to ask Jon for a permanent position, she was going to have to be perfect at her job over the next few days. Maybe it would be better to wait a couple of weeks before she asked him. Maybe after Christmas would be best. Her fingers shook a little as she replied to an email. Maybe in the new year.
At about eleven o’clock, she went back into the kitchen for her second cup of tea. A couple of colleagues met her in the hallway, and they both greeted her with a lot more interest than they’d ever shown before. One of them had asked her out a couple of years ago, and he seemed unable to stop staring at her, even, she sensed, when she was walking down the corridor away from him. Her cheeks flushed, and she cursed such an obvious sign that she was upset. This is not professional. The papers can say what they like. Just keep doing your job.
But it was hard to focus when everyone who came in contact with her gave her that same curious look. By lunchtime her nerves were shot, and she thought she might stay in her office and have a Snickers bar for lunch, rather than go outside and get stared at some more.
Then she jerked up out of her seat. Dammit, no. She was not going to change her habits for these assholes. Head high, she went and bought a sandwich as usual.
Coming back through the lobby, Francesca saw her and waved her over. Sighing, Ellen went to her, hoping that the conversation would be short. She didn’t want to blow off her friend, but she really didn’t want to discuss Kane or the newspapers.
“Hola, chica.” Francesca smiled. “How are you today?”
“Brilliant,” Ellen said grimly.
“Si, I thought so much.” Francesca squeezed her hand. “Your cell phone’s mailbox is full; did you know?”
“Oh, right.” She’d turned off her phone over the weekend for the same reason Kane had. “I’ll clear it. Did you need something?”
“No, cara. Just wanted to check on you.” Then her heart-shaped face went from concerned to mischievous. “So nothing new for reporting?”
“Oh, for God’s sake, Francesca, don’t you start.” Ellen pulled her hand away. “You try living in this goldfish bowl for a few minutes.”
“You’re right. I sorry.”
“And you can tell that to Penny as well. If she wants to find out the juicy details, she can come here and get yelled at herself.”
“Si, I get it, okay, Elena. Wow.” Francesca gave her that same appraising look she’d been getting all day. “I have never seen you like this.”
Her cheeks were hot again, and she was ready to throw her strawberry lemonade at someone. “I’m sorry,” she said, and tried to mean it. “I’m just... not much company right now. I’ll see you later.” She started to walk away but came back. “He had the flu, all right? All weekend. Tell Penny that.”
“Okay, I will tell her.” Francesca wasn’t smiling anymore. “We are happy for you, you know. Or we were. Should we not be?”
“Buggered if I know,” Ellen said, and went back to her office.
By five o’clock she knew she’d done about the worst day’s work of her life. She hadn’t called any clients this afternoon, had put a few more off via email, had lost an entire day not setting up a conference that was starting right after the new year because she didn’t want to call the suppliers, and had even contemplated pretending she’d caught Kane’s flu and just going home. She hated people who did that. Officially her day was over, but she almost always stayed later; it had become what Jon expected of her. But today she didn’t have it in her. She was too mad to talk to anyone, and there were only so many emails in the world. She shut down her computer, grabbed her bag, and stepped out into the hallway.
Jon, damn him, was right there. “Hi,” he said in surprise. “You going home?”
“Um, yes.” She drew herself to her full height, which was a good few inches taller than him, and tried not to feel as though she was playing hooky. Don’t explain yourself. It’s past five. “Feeling like I, uh, might be coming down with a cold.” Dammit.
“Okay,” Jon said. He looked concerned, but that didn’t explain how hard he was looking at her. “You do look a little flushed. You getting a fever?”
Of course she blushed even harder under his scrutiny. “Maybe,” she squeaked. “Better go before I contaminate you.” Ellen, you’re a big fat liar and a slacker, and he’s never going to let you stay.
“Sure.” But he didn’t walk away. He looked as if he was screwing himself up to say something, and she did. Not. Want. To hear it. “You okay?” he finally said. “Everything okay?”
What possible answer was there when your boss asked that question? “Yes,” she said firmly. “I’m fine. Everything’s good.”
“Okay, good,” he said, but he still looked uncertain. He looked up and down the corridor to make sure no one was near them. “Listen,” he went on. Oh, Lord, here it comes. “I shouldn’t tell you this, but HR called me.” He looked mortified.
HR meant Claire Holland. “Bloody hell,” she said between clenched teeth. He didn’t have to say anything else. This was exactly what she’d been worried about when she’d first refused to go out with Kane. Rosette employees did not have their picture taken with the city’s biggest playboy. And they did not have their sex lives hinted at in the local newspapers. Far from proving that she was an asset to the company, Ellen was fast becoming a liability.
