Chương 15
Elena zipped her notebook into her bag.
“Do not discuss the file with anyone.”
“Including Adrian.”
“Especially Adrian.”
Eve swallowed.
“Understood.”
Elena hesitated near the door.
Then she lowered her voice.
“For whatever this is worth, discovering the email before opening the attachment was the best thing you could have done.”
Relief arrived so quickly Eve almost sat down again.
“Am I in trouble?”
“I did not say that.”
“No.”
Elena’s mouth softened slightly.
“But I said what I could.”
Then she left.
The room was silent again.
At six, Eve received an email from Judith Hale.
Remain off client work related to Sterling until further notice.
Your employment status is unchanged.
At six fifteen, Martin called.
Eve did not answer.
At six twenty, he called again.
She still did not answer.
At six thirty-three, a text arrived.
You have no idea what you’ve done.
Eve stared at it until the words stopped feeling threatening and started feeling tired.
She took a screenshot.
Then she sent it to Judith.
That night, she slept badly.
She dreamed of airport terminals where every gate led back to the same conference room.
When she woke at four, she discovered Adrian had not contacted her.
That was the correct thing.
She hated it.
By Saturday afternoon, the snow had stopped.
Her return flight remained scheduled for Sunday.
Eve spent most of the day walking through Boston with no destination.
She bought gloves because she had forgotten hers in New York.
She drank coffee that was too hot.
She stood in a bookstore for forty minutes reading the first pages of novels she had no intention of buying.
At five twelve, Judith called.
Eve answered from a bench near the Public Garden.
“Hi.”
“I’ll keep this short.”
Judith sounded exhausted.
“Martin has been placed on administrative leave.”
Eve closed her eyes.
“What happened?”
“We found communications showing he was aware of Dennis Vale’s efforts to alter reporting around the pilot.”
A bus hissed to a stop across the street.
People climbed off carrying shopping bags and backpacks.
Eve watched them move.
“Was he helping Dennis?”
“We’re still determining that.”
“Did he know about the tracker?”
“I can’t discuss specifics.”
Eve rubbed her thumb against the seam of her glove.
“Am I fired?”
“No.”
“Still?”
Judith sighed.
“No, Eve.”
The firmness almost made her laugh.
Judith continued.
“Actually, I owe you an apology.”
Eve looked up.
“For what?”
“For allowing the conversation yesterday to entertain the suggestion that your personal interaction with Adrian Sterling explained your professional conduct.”
Eve was quiet.
Judith said, “That was unfair.”
“Thank you.”
“It also distracted from the actual issue.”
“Yes.”
“I dislike being distracted.”
That sounded so much like Judith that Eve smiled.
“Am I back on the account?”
“No.”
“Okay.”
“You may never be.”
Eve’s smile faded.
“Because of Adrian?”
“Partly.”
Judith’s tone changed.
“Even if nothing improper happened, the appearance issue is now real.”
Eve stared at the frozen edge of the pond.
“So telling the truth still costs me the account.”
“Yes.”
Judith did not soften it.
Eve appreciated that more than comfort.
“Do I still have a place at Hale?”
“If you want one.”
The question surprised her.
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“I think that is something you should decide after this week.”
Judith ended the call with a promise to speak Monday.
Eve remained on the bench until her hands grew cold through the gloves.
Sunday evening, she landed at JFK.
The same terminal looked smaller.
Less theatrical.
People hurried beneath fluorescent lights, dragging luggage and children and duty-free bags.
Eve stood for a moment near the check-in area where she had grabbed Adrian’s lapel.
No revelation came.
It was just an airport.
She took a car home.
The apartment door stuck slightly against the rug.
Preston’s shoes were gone from the entryway.
His gray coat was gone.
The ridiculous ceramic dog he had bought in Vermont was gone.
The espresso machine remained.
Eve stared at it.
Then she laughed.
The apartment did not feel empty.
It felt edited.
There were pale rectangles on the bookshelf where Preston’s records had been.
Three hangers swung in the bedroom closet.
His absence had edges.
Eve unpacked.
She took a shower.
She ordered Thai food from the place downstairs.
At eight forty, Preston texted.
Can I come up?
She looked at the message for a long time.
Then she typed, Ten minutes.
He arrived carrying the storage key.
For a second, seeing him hurt so much Eve had to grip the door.
Preston looked the same.
That seemed offensive.
Same brown hair.
Same camel coat.
Same careful face.
“Hi,” he said.
“Hi.”
He stepped inside.
His eyes moved around the apartment.
“You kept the espresso machine.”
“You left it.”
“I thought you liked it more.”
“That’s unexpectedly decent.”
He almost smiled.
Then neither knew what to do.
Finally Preston said, “I’m sorry about how I ended it.”
Eve leaned against the kitchen counter.
“Why did you do it that way?”
He looked down.
“Because I knew if I heard your voice, I’d stay.”
The answer hurt differently.
Not less.
“Did you want to stay?”
“No.”
There it was.
Clean.
Ugly.
Useful.
Eve nodded.
Preston rubbed his hands together.
“I’ve been unhappy for a while.”
“You should have told me.”
“I tried.”
“No.”
She shook her head.
“You hinted.”
“I thought you knew.”
“That isn’t the same as telling someone.”
He looked defensive.
“You weren’t exactly easy to talk to.”
Eve almost laughed.
There was the Preston she knew.
Not cruel.
Not monstrous.
Just capable of handing someone a wound and then pointing out how difficult they made the bandage.
“Maybe not.”
He looked surprised.
She continued.
“But you still owed me the conversation before the airport.”
Preston nodded slowly.
“Yes.”
For once, he did not argue.
He placed the storage key on the counter.
“I’m sorry.”
Eve believed him.
That did not repair anything.
It did not need to.
May you like
He left eight minutes later.
At the door, he looked back.
