The X Factor

by Bella Street

  “Seffy? Oh, Addison! I actually need to ask you both to come to the conference room in ten minutes if that's okay.”

  “Is everyone going to be there?” Addison asked.

  “Yep. We just have some more questions for ya.”

  Seffy grimaced at the false note in Fiona's cheerful tone. Now doubt a new drilling awaited.

  Addison sent Seffy one last look before following Fiona out into the hall. Seffy nursed her anger, knowing if she began to feel sorry for herself, she'd dissolve into stupid, useless tears. She waited a few minutes before heading toward the conference room alone.

  When Seffy arrived, only Fiona was there, sitting with one leg over the other, swinging her little foot back and forth. Seffy looked around the otherwise empty room filled with chairs. She glanced toward the window overlooking the room and saw Fenn. She studied his face unabashedly, wondering where Trent came up with his crazy theories. Fenn sent her a courtesy smile, his expression closed. It's definitely true love. Yeah, right.

  The door opened and Gareth walked in. Seffy's heart contracted in her chest. Without looking her way, he sat at the other end of the room. She bit her lip and blinked hard to keep the threatening tears at bay. Lani and Addison walked in and sat on either side of Gareth.

  A few minutes later, Jared, Cynthia and Eva entered. They sat behind Gareth and the girls. Fiona seemed to be sizing up the situation with a certain amount of amusement. Seffy watched Trent walk in last and survey the room. His expression registered surprise before smoothing out into his usual insouciance. He wandered along the back of the room and sat in a chair somewhere behind her.

  From that point on, Seffy kept her attention straight ahead and her emotions under lock and key.

  ***

  Trent tried to discern all the undercurrents of the room. He couldn't imagine Gareth and Seffy sitting apart and wondered who was avoiding whom. From Seffy's white, pinched face he saw reflected in the window behind Fiona, he guessed it was Gareth with the bug up his ass. He sensed the tenuous hold Sef had on her emotions by the stiff set to her shoulders and bleak look in her eyes.

  What the hell was going on?

  Fiona addressed her. “How are you doing under your quarantine?”

  Seffy continued staring at the wall directly in front of her.

  “Is there any way we can improve your stay?”

  Nothing.

  Fiona firmed her lips and turned to the group. “I'm sure you're all wondering why we called you in here today.”

  The door opened and Baxter and Eugene shuffled in, grabbing the nearest seats in the back.

  “We want to formally apologize for the manner in which you arrived here, along with the the horrible events that followed.”

  Trent waited for Seffy to speak up and nail her, since there was no one who'd suffered more, but she remained strangely silent. He frowned and crossed his arms over his chest.

  “We're happy to say that the exterior threat has been resolved and we will now re-double our efforts to return you to your time and place.”

  Trent thought of a dozen smart alec-retorts to Fiona's laughable assertions, and was shocked when no one spoke—not even Jared's mocking guffaw. Unreal.

  “We need to ask you a few more questions that will help us help you.”

  “Help you what?” Trent said. “Send us back in time? When you won't even admit how you got us here in the first place?”

  Fiona's eyes narrowed at him and she scribbled something down on the chart. “We'll start with you Mr. Ellison. What was your employment in Los Angeles?”

  He tried to decide how to answer. What was their angle? That they had one he had no doubt. He decided to throw them a bone. How could it hurt? “Assistant...on a film crew.”

  Fiona wrote down the information. “Gareth Rodden?”

  A long pause. “Manager at a clothing store.”

  “The Gap,” Addison clarified.

  “And your place of employment Ms. Wright?”

  “Tae bo instructor,” the redhead mumbled.

  “Lani Berry?”

  “I worked...work...at a spa, and we only use organic treatments not tested on animals, all very eco-friendly—”

  “I'm sure that's very helpful,” Fiona said, scribbling. “Let's see...Eva Glassner?”

  “Aspiring actress.”

  “Me, too,” Cynthia said.

  “And how much did aspirations pay in 2006?”

  The girls looked at each other. Eva sighed. “I was a waitress.”

  “Ms. Moore?”

  Cynthia lifted her chin. “We worked at the same place—a very high class establishment.”

  “High class...waitresses,” Fiona said, writing quickly.

  “Jared Lucas?”

  “Also a director's assistant.”

  Trent peered at him over his shoulder.

  “And last but not least, Seffy Carter.”

  “Receptionist,” she said in a hollow voice.

  Trent studied her downcast face in the reflection.

  Fiona clicked her tongue. “So there are no professionals among you? No doctors, lawyers, businessmen, scientists?” She shook her head and looked over at Fenn. “Just a bunch of low-level employees. Perfect.”

  “Since we're all in our mid-twenties,” Trent said, “I'm not sure what you were expecting.” And they were expecting something. She hadn't denied they'd been brought here.

  “Even college students would be helpful. Anyone in college?”

  No one said anything. Trent didn't mention the few classes he'd picked up at the local community college. “Why don't you tell us what you were hoping to find in West Hollywood?”

  Fiona seared him with a look from her oddly elfin eyes. When she refused to answer, he tried again. “So will this little disappointment affect our chances of getting home?”

  “No,” she said primly. “The meeting is over.”

  The others got up to leave but Seffy remained seated as if made of stone. Trent watched the others talking in low voices among themselves, wondering what they were up to. Fiona stood, tucking a clipboard under her arm. She sent a poisonous look toward Seffy before heading out the door.

  Trent saw Fenn watching, his face lacking expression. A moment later he left the room and the light went off behind the window. Trent got up and approached Seffy when the room was empty. He touched her shoulder. “Hey, it's time to go.”

  Keeping her face straight ahead, she stood with stiff movements. A muscle worked in her jaw, confirming his suspicions that she was barely holding it together.

  “What's going on between you and your friends?”

  She looked at him then, her dark eyes desperate. She gave a curt shake of her head, as if not trusting herself to speak, and strode from the room. Trent followed. Moments later, he watched her go into her bedroom and shut the door. He considered knocking to get the story out of her, but decided against it. If he was going to get to the truth of the matter, he suspected it would take a bit more than good looks, charm, and a sympathetic ear. It would take something she'd been susceptible to in the past.

  Alcohol.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Seffy spent the afternoon in tears, which then brought on self-loathing. No matter which way her mind twisted and turned to figure out her predicament with Gareth, she came up empty. Maybe it was low to move in after Verity was out of the picture, but it was more of an experimental move than an aggressive one. And Gareth had proven he wasn't interested in her that way. No harm, no foul, aside from her own humiliation, right?

  Maybe she had taken Gareth for granted...didn't appreciate what he offered until Verity showed up. No doubt she'd upset him by revealing her terrible actions in the recent past. But that didn't explain his coldness, his rejection. Did it?

  The very idea left her breathless, bereft, beached, and every other pathetic 'b' word she could think of. Seffy blew her nose into a wad of tissue and gulped back fresh tears. God, why couldn't they just get home? Was Gareth doing anythi
ng about it as he'd promised? She wasn't even sure anything could be done. What if they were stuck in this hell-hole forever?

  Her stomach gave an ill-timed rumble, but she ignored it. There was nothing good to eat anyway. She knew she could hit Trent up for a snack, but it would just get her in deeper with whatever web he was weaving. The realization hit that the one she wanted didn't want her, and the one who did would demand too high a price.

  Why were men such pains in the butt? Seffy sat up on the bed, scrubbing her tears away. This is what happened if you talked to them—got involved with them. They promised sweetness and light and gave you a big emotional black eye instead. Who needs them!

  Seffy flopped back over and flung an arm over her eyes. I do. She couldn't imagine life without Gareth in it. He'd been her protector, her shield, her friend. Wasn't that the point of men being bigger and stronger—to cherish and protect the girl? Maybe feminism was her problem—or her lack thereof. I'm not strong. I'm a wimp. I need someone there to help me over the rough parts of life. She grimaced. And I disgust myself. This is the part where I'm supposed to become all self-sufficient and triumph over men. But I'm just too damn tired. If Gareth walked in the door right now, I'd crawl into his arms and not let go.

  A knock sounded on the door. Seffy sat bolt upright, her heart hammering hard, her lips forming Gareth's name. When Trent poked his head in, disappointment rushed in like a flood.

  “Can I come in?”

  She sighed. “Despite the fact that you're rightfully using my outer door...no.”

  He came in anyway. “What was the deal in the conference room?”

  “None of your business.”

  “Is it why you've been crying?”

  Seffy reached down, grabbed a shoe and threw it at him. She missed.

  He put up his hands. “Okay, none of my business. I get it.” He put his hands down. “I also came to invite you to my place for cocktails.”

  She stared at him in disbelief. “Not to go all psycho on your head, but what th—?”

  “Okay! Just calm down. I know it's too early now, so I was thinking about seven tonight?”

  Seffy snorted. “You're totally high.”

  “Like I've said before, I wish.”

  She reached for the other shoe.

  Trent backed up to the door. “Hey, I could've just slipped you a mickey to get you drunk, but I thought our relationship should be more open and honest.”

  “We don't have a relationship!”

  “Um, that's where the booze is supposed to help.”

  Seffy threw the shoe and this time it hit pay dirt.

  “Ouch.”

  “Are you still here?”

  “You didn't hear the rest of my proposition.”

  “I already know what it is.”

  He tsked her. “Such a dirty mind for one so...”

  “Trent, I'm warning you.”

  “Alright. In the meantime, I thought we could take a look at your medical records.”

  She sat up straighter. “You found where they're located?”

  He nodded. “It's amazing how far a few bucks go in this place.”

  “Did Malone tell you?”

  “What? No. Trust me, he knows less than he lets on.”

  Seffy jumped from the bed and hurried into the bathroom to patch herself up. Her reflection told her she was a mess. What did Trent see in her? Unless he went for chicks who looked like strung-out skanks. If so, she was a shoo-in.

  Seffy returned to the main room to find Trent perched on the edge of her desk. As she walked past him toward the door, he grabbed her arm.

  “Sef, you might want to think twice about this little excursion.”

  She stared at him, baffled. “Why? HIPAA concerns?”

  “You might not like what you find.”

  She shook his hand from her arm. “Have you already seen my records or something?”

  “No, I only know where the files are kept. I'm just saying you need to be aware of what the information could entail.”

  “I think I can handle it.”

  He stood and touched the left-over moisture at the outside edge of her eye with his knuckle. “Are you sure about that?”

  Seffy regarded him, certain his compassionate mien was some ploy to get her to lower her defenses. “At least when you offered drinks, you were honest.” She strode toward the door and entered the hall.

  By the sharp door slam as he followed her, she knew he didn't appreciate her words. They walked in silence down the maze of hallways. Seffy sensed waves of pique coming from Trent as he led the way, and experienced a stab of guilt at her behavior. He was rapidly becoming her only ally as her friends distanced themselves. At least she knew where he stood.

  Twenty minutes later, they were in yet another basement area. How did he find these places? How could he tell which way they were going? Seffy felt like a rat in a maze. Trent stopped by a large wooden door at the end of the hallway. She peeked through a small window. “This is it? No hidden corridors and booby hatches to crawl through?”

  He dug in his pocket and held up a key. “And I even have this.”

  “How much did you have to pay to get it and how much will it cost me?”

  “Don't worry about it, sweetheart. My motives are pure.”

  His sarcastic tone set Seffy's teeth on edge. She plucked the key from his hand and fitted it into the lock. The door swung open easily and she entered the dim room, which was lined with aisles of metal file cabinets. She heard Trent softly close the door behind him and follow her deeper into the room. He turned on his flashlight, directing the beam toward the file labels.

  Seffy followed along, scrutinizing each label on every drawer, looking for the C's. When she located the correct one, she pulled on the metal handle, but the drawer was locked. “I knew this was too easy,” she muttered under her breath.

  With an annoyed expression, Trent held up another key under her nose. Seffy wondered what kind of characters populated the compound who were so easily bought off. Didn't they care about their own? She took the key and opened the cabinet. It wasn't difficult to find her file—it was by far the fattest in the drawer.

  With trepidation roiling in her gut, she tugged out the thick folder. Seffy looked up at Trent, who watched her expression with interest. “Should we take this and go back to my room, or should I look at it here?”

  “I think you should look at it here. Since you're being examined everyday, they'll discover it pretty quick if it's missing.” He angled the light on the file.

  Pulling in a deep breath, Seffy spread the file on the top of the cabinet and opened it up. She quickly scanned the the first few pages. “Looks like they ran a chem panel and CBC along with the other usual tests. I'm apparently anemic...and have sky high white blood counts, along with routinely abnormally low blood pressure.” She frowned. “A lot of anomalies are present, or the results are inconclusive.”

  “We kind of already knew that right? You're Anomaly Girl.”

  She sent him a mocking frown and kept reading. Her familiarity with billing records helped some, but she was still unfamiliar with a lot of the abbreviations. “Well, it looks like I'm not pregnant and tested negative for multiple STDs.”

  Trent pressed his hand to his chest. “Oh, thank God.”

  She raised her brows. “I think we'll be checking your records next.”

  “Hah.”

  Seffy pored over the next several pages, shaking her head. “Oh, I have an ulcer. That would explain the blood when I—never mind.”

  “What is it with you and blood?”

  She ignored the question. “And here are some fun words: 'nuclear', 'viral', 'acute', 'necrotizing', and 'pathophysiology'.”

  “I gotta say it still sounds like you.”

  Seffy flipped to the next page. Terms like severe systemic disease, carcinogenic antigens, grand mal seizures, and lumbar punctures, significant abnormalities, mental disorders jumped off the pages. The more she read, the less she u
nderstood—except for the certainty that she was not blooming with radiant health. She looked up at Trent, a knot of dread uncoiling in her gut. “I'm screwed.”

  His solemn expression only confirmed what she'd tried to deny—that this was a waste of time. Seffy took the file and jammed it back into the cabinet, not bothering to read through the last pages. It was just too damn depressing. She closed the drawer with a click and locked it back up, wondering if she should throw away the key. “While we're here, who can we get the dirt on and blackmail?”

  He shook his head. “Actually, we should go before we're discovered.”

  Seffy rolled her eyes. “I wonder what Fiona's file would reveal. What's her last name?”

  Trent shrugged. “They wouldn't have her file here. Or Fenn's for that matter.”

  “Why?”

  “I was told this area contains records for residents only. Not admin.”

  Seffy walked down to the cabinet with an E on the label. “I think we have time for one more.” But before she could get at his file, he blocked her.

  “I don't think so.” Trent's features became shuttered.

  “I just want a peek.”

  He shook his head. “There's nothing in my file you need to see.”

  She tilted her head. “Oh, I get it. You're pregnant and infected with multiple STDs.”

  “And maybe I'm part wolf. But it's my business and not yours.”

  “What happened to having an open and honest relationship?”

  His mouth quirked. “According to you, we don't have one.”

  “That's true.” She headed for the door, disappointed that she was medically worse off than she thought, without really understanding what it meant. So she'd wasted more time on another dead end. Peachy.

  They returned to her room. When they arrived at the door, Seffy turned to Trent. “Tell me it's five o'clock somewhere because after finding out I'm Dead Girl Walking, I could really use that drink right now.”

  He made a face. “Uh, I don't actually have the supplies yet. That was next on my list.”