Chương 4
"Probably."
"Then you could have found mine."
"Also probably."
I stared at him.
He looked almost amused.
"You enjoyed this."
"I was curious."
"About whether I'd pass out?"
"About whether you'd walk into this room and pretend we'd never met."
"I considered it."
"For how long?"
"About six seconds."
"Impressive restraint."
I looked toward the windows.
Boston Harbor was a flat gray sheet beyond the glass.
A ferry moved through it slowly, leaving white disturbance behind.
My anger had nowhere sensible to land.
He had not done anything wrong.
That was irritating.
"Does anyone else know?" I asked.
"About the airport?"
"Yes."
"The three men who were with me."
"And now Mara."
"And probably everyone in this building who can read my face."
I covered my eyes.
"This is exactly how I wanted to spend Monday."
"Your presentation went well."
I lowered my hands.
"Are you saying that as the man I assaulted or as the potential client?"
"Both."
"Those should probably be separate categories."
"They are."
The room became quieter.
He looked different without other people around.
Not softer, exactly.
Less arranged.
A small line appeared between his brows when he was not actively controlling his expression.
I noticed because I had seen it at the airport too, just before his arms tightened around me.
I should not have asked.
I did anyway.
"Who told you you're bad at hugging?"
Something shuttered behind his eyes.
The answer took too long.
"My sister."
I waited.
He looked toward the window.
There was no invitation to continue.
So I didn't.
That seemed to surprise him.
I stood and slid my laptop into its case.
"Thank you for not mentioning the airport during the meeting."
"I considered opening with it."
My head snapped up.
He was smiling.
"You didn't."
"No."
"Why?"
"I thought you might actually pass out."
"Compassion."
"Risk management."
"Of course."
I lifted my bag.
"Do we still have a chance at the contract?"
The amusement disappeared.
"Yes."
My stomach tightened.
"Does what happened at JFK affect the decision?"
"No."
"Can you actually promise that?"
His gaze sharpened.
"I can promise it won't help you."
I blinked.
"That's not exactly reassuring."
"It shouldn't be."
He stood.
He was taller than I remembered, which seemed unfair.
"Our committee evaluates the work."
"And you?"
"I evaluate the committee."
"That sounds healthy."
"It isn't."
For a second, neither of us moved.
Then he walked around the table.
He stopped several feet away, leaving a deliberate amount of space between us.
"I also owe you something."
"You absolutely do not."
"I do."
He reached into the inside pocket of his jacket.
My body went rigid with confusion.
He pulled out a neatly folded white square.
The handkerchief.
I stared at it.
"No."
He held it toward me.
"You kept that?"
"My security director refused to take it back."
"He was wise."
"It was laundered."
"That somehow makes this worse."
"You tried to return it."
"I was suffering neurological failure."
"So I've been told."
I looked at him.
He had stolen my line and seemed pleased with himself.
I took the handkerchief.
My initials were not on it, obviously.
Instead, there was a small embroidered S in one corner.
I folded it again.
"Thank you."
"You're welcome."
I slipped it into my bag.
At the door, I stopped.
"Mr. Sterling?"
"Adrian."
I turned.
He leaned one hand against the edge of the table.
"My name is Adrian."
"Right."
The name fit him too well.
"Thank you, Adrian."
"For the handkerchief?"
"For Friday."
His expression changed again.
That private fracture.
Gone almost immediately.
"You're welcome, Eve."
Mara was waiting twenty feet down the hallway, pretending to study a framed photograph.
"You are the least subtle person alive," I said.
She turned.
"How did it go?"
"You abandoned me."
"I created an executive networking opportunity."
"You fled."
"Fine."
She took my arm as we walked toward the elevators.
"What did he say?"
"That the presentation went well."
"And?"
"And nothing."
"You were in there for fifteen minutes."
"He gave me a handkerchief."
Mara stopped walking.
"He gave you what?"
"Keep moving."
"Eve."
"Please."
We entered the elevator with two Sterling employees, so Mara was forced into silence.
Her face did not cooperate.
The moment we reached the lobby, she grabbed my sleeve.
"The billionaire kept your breakup handkerchief?"
"Technically his security director's handkerchief."
"That clarification helps no one."
"It was laundered."
Mara stared at me.
"That's worse."
"That's exactly what I said."
Outside, cold rain struck the pavement.
We hurried beneath the awning.
A black sedan waited at the curb.
I barely noticed it until the rear door opened.
Adrian Sterling stepped out.
For one absurd second, I thought he had followed us.
Then a woman in a camel coat emerged from the building and walked toward him.
She was elegant, maybe early forties, with dark hair pulled into a knot.
Adrian's entire posture changed when he saw her.
His shoulders went rigid.
She stopped in front of him.
"You ignored me all weekend," she said.
Mara and I were close enough to hear.
Adrian glanced toward us.
The woman followed his gaze.
Her eyes settled on me.
Recognition flickered there.
Not recognition of a stranger.
Recognition of a name.
Or a photograph.
Or something I had not yet been told.
She looked back at Adrian.
"So that's her."
Mara's fingers tightened around my arm.
Adrian's face went still.
"Eleanor."
The woman gave a short, humorless laugh.
"You really don't learn, do you?"
Then she got into the sedan.
Adrian remained on the curb.
He looked at me once before following her.
The door shut.
The car pulled into traffic.
Mara waited exactly three seconds.
"What," she said, "was that?"
I watched the sedan disappear between buses and wet brake lights.
In my bag, the folded handkerchief suddenly felt much heavier than cotton.
"I have absolutely no idea."
May you like
Mara stared at me as if the correct answer might appear if she waited long enough.
I started walking.
