by Lily Zante
Melissa appreciated it. And wondered what she was going to do when Nadine left her in the lurch for a year or more. As if reading her thoughts, Nadine added. “This should all blow over by Easter. Don’t worry. I’m here until then.”
“Is it all set? Your transfer abroad?” asked Melissa, her nerves were already frayed. The thought of only having Nadine around for another couple of months unsettled her completely.
“I’ll still come over for a few visits,” she offered, not sounding completely convinced herself.
“It won’t be the same, will it?”
“No,” Nadine replied wearily, “it won’t be the same at all.” She had that same faraway look on her face again, and Melissa didn’t want to ask how Ethan was taking to this news. Nadine was already dealing with enough on her plate as it was, without having to wade in and deal with Melissa’s crap too.
“Thank you—for all that you’ve done for me.” Melissa meant it more than Nadine would ever know. The idea of losing a great woman boss, someone who looked out for her as well as mentored her was beginning to hit her.
Two sharp knocks on the door announced trouble. Before answering, Nadine asked her, “I’ll keep you posted on events as they unfold. You let me know anytime you need to talk. Okay?”
Melissa nodded and smiled as another sharp knock followed.
“Thanks, Nadine.” She headed toward the door and when she opened it, Sandra burst in.
“Michael wants me to sit in when you deal with Noble Vintage or Flight from now on.”
“Is that all?” asked Nadine, the expression on her face incredulous.
“Someone’s got to look after your high-profile accounts while you’re off for the year.”
“I’ll still have a handle on those accounts,” Nadine told her firmly. Melissa watched their sparring and kept out of the way.
“Not according to Michael,” said Sandra testily.
“I’ll clear it with Michael first. And for the record, Sandra, I don’t consider my time in Europe, no matter how long, to be time off. That might be your experience of working abroad, but I can tell you it certainly wasn’t mine.” Nadine walked to the door, rolled her eyes at Melissa and waited for Sandra to exit. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to speak to Michael and tell him exactly how my high-profile accounts will be handled while I am away.”
Sandra hurtled out of the door and along the hallway, as Melissa let out a sigh of relief. She felt sorry for Nadine. Despite this crap going on in her own life, Nadine had been a tower of strength to her, even though she was putting out fires at home and at work.
She felt relieved to be back at her desk, working in the role she had without ever having to deal with the kind of stress her boss endured.
The thought of Matt suspended from work gave her a modicum of relief. Unable to accept that it was all over, she still felt as if there was more trouble lurking around the corner.
Only the fact of him leaving work for good, would give her cause to celebrate.
Still, this was a small victory as far as victories went. She picked up her cell and called Noah, something she’d been doing ever since he’d come to see her a few days ago. They had decided not to meet in the coffee shop just yet. He was busy going through the interview process and she had the uncertainty of the Matt situation at work to deal with.
“He’s been suspended,” she told Noah, smiling as she did so.
“That explains it,” replied Noah easily, a lightness in his voice.
“Why’s that?” she asked, suddenly curious.
“Because he’s coming for an interview this afternoon. Instead of scheduling one after work, or outside of work hours.”
“Does he know you’re interviewing him?” To be a witness to his reaction when that happened would be priceless.
“He’ll find out soon enough. How are you?” There was a familiarity in his words, in the way he spoke, reminding her how far they’d come in their getting-to-know-each-other stage. It was still too early to call it a relationship. Even that day when he’d been around, listening to her confession, touching her face with his hands, holding and comforting her, they hadn’t kissed or spoken of things. There was too much detritus strewn all around them still.
“I’m feeling surprisingly light and upbeat.” She answered, feeling exactly that.
“Light and upbeat is good.” They’d spoken a couple of times since their last meeting, and each time they were together talking was so natural and effortless it was a perfect reminder of where they’d been before the shit had hit the fan.
“Melissa?” She leaned into his words. He sounded so close, the way he spoke, low-toned, just to her.
“Hmm,” she said, trying to imagine if he was smiling, guessing at the expression on his face.
“I miss you.” Those three words made her heart pitter-patter.
I miss you, she wanted to say. “Do you want to meet up tonight? Or are you—”
Busy, she was going to say.
“Yeah. Let’s meet up.” He sounded eager, more eager than she’d ever heard him of late.
“I’d like to hear how your interview goes.” She giggled.
He groaned. “I’ll meet you there around six?”
“See you at six,” she said. And heard his voice in her head for a long time after their conversation had ended.
Chapter 46
“You?”
Yeah, me. Noah reveled at the unexpected shock on Matt’s face.
In all his recent run-ins with Matt, even as late as yesterday when the guy was still recovering from the shock of having all his picture files corrupted, Noah hadn’t let on that he’d be in charge of the new hire.
He didn’t want this guy in his company, let alone working under him. But he was willing to do it, if it meant he had to leave the Zimmerman Group. And having that turdball here meant he got to keep an eye on the guy. He intended to make Matt Elliott pay for everything he’d done to Melissa.
“I didn’t realize you were so high up.” Matt sounded impressed, a little envious even, as he followed Noah down the hallway.
They sat down in Noah’s office, facing one another across the desk. “Tell me a little about yourself,” prompted Noah, suitably shifting through the paperwork he had on the guy. Then he sat back, his hands clasped over his stomach, trying to listen to what he had to say.
Noah saw the guy’s lips move, but hardly paid attention to what he said. The entire time Matt was talking, Noah only saw the movie of Matt and Melissa replaying over and over.
The more Matt spoke, the angrier Noah got. It was an effort to play it cool and to never once let on what he was thinking.
“That’s how I ended up at the Zimmerman Group,” said Matt, after what must have been at least ten minutes of non-stop blowing his own trumpet.
“I see.” Noah suitably rearranged the sheets of paper on his desk. “Tell me why you want this job so much?” He sat back, the pile of papers neatly lined up. He let Matt warble on some more, as he settled back into his chair. When Matt was done, he looked at Noah, awaiting the next question. Noah smiled at him, affably enough.
Matt adjusted his position in the chair. Waiting patiently.
“What’s your stance on indecent images?” Noah asked, taking particular pleasure at the look of complete confusion on Matt’s face.
“Excuse me?”
Noah repeated. “What’s your stance on indecent images?”
Matt stiffened visibly. “What’s that got to do with anything?”
“It’s only a question.”
Matt shifted in his chair. “I don’t see what that’s got to do with anything to do with my work or career.”
“Hmm.” Noah pulled his body taller as he sat in the chair. “We deal a lot with monitoring clients’ servers and a lot of that is done remotely. We have access to many networks and machines on clients’ sites. I wondered what your take on it was. We have to be aboveboard, totally clean, totally accountable ourselves.” He relaxed into a sm
ile, enjoying every minute of the random but not so random things he was telling Matt, designed to faze him, throw him off kilter. And from the expression on Matt’s face, he could see that it was having the desired effect.
Matt gave him a questioning look but so far hadn’t answered his question. To prompt him further, Noah asked, “You must have such practices at your current employer?”
Matt moved in his chair, loosened his tie a little. “Yeah. I guess.”
“Of course your employer has such practices in place.” Noah laughed, so out of context here, but he was enjoying making this guy uncomfortable. “I mean, no one wants a dodgy employee working for them, right?” Maybe he’d overdone it now.
Matt eyed him warily—as if he was looking for the double meaning in Noah’s words.
“I wanted to give you the heads up, dude. I know you wouldn’t have any shit like that on your boxes.” He stared directly at Matt, who winced. But he couldn’t prove a thing.
“That shouldn’t be a problem,” Matt mumbled, though he seemed less sure of himself. Noah continued, asking him about his technical capabilities, his current responsibilities at his present workplace and then went on to tell him more about the position at Black Diamond.
But by now Matt appeared to have lost the expectant look of unfettered enthusiasm he’d worn when he had first walked in.
Mission accomplished, thought Noah, jaw clenched as he tried to get a grip on the gnawing anger that simmered below the surface. He could not, no matter how hard he tried, completely erase that footage of Melissa crying while the man abused her. It took all his might to stop himself from landing a solid fist across the guy’s face.
After an interview that lasted under an hour, Noah saw Matt to the door and told him that he would be in touch in due course. After Matt left, Noah returned to his desk and rubbed his fingers against his chin. On paper the guy looked great. If Noah didn’t know what he now knew, the guy would be a sure bet. On paper, to a high-tech startup such as Black Diamond, Matt Elliott looked like the model employee.
It was scary how much lay hidden beneath the surface. Noah felt it his duty to recommend him to Rory but with reservations.
Chapter 47
After work had never been their usual time of meeting and for that reason Melissa felt strange to be at the coffee shop now—albeit with a more relaxed after-work crowd, people who were in no rush to get anywhere.
She herself felt exactly like that—at ease, and with a sense of calm she hadn’t experienced in days. It seemed as though she and Noah were slowly moving around the edges of a boundary, carefully appraising their decision to become entwined in one another’s lives. Their slow, hesitant steps towards each other—steps that had begun months ago—now appeared to coalesce at a junction, a point in time where they both now found themselves.
She dared not hope for too much, yet the anticipation of meeting him tonight warmed her inside as much as her hand wrapped around her tall glass of latte did. She’d arrived a little early and sat waiting for him, reading a paranormal romance on her Kindle.
“Mel?”
She looked up, distracted, and quickly jumped to attention.
“What’re you doing here?” Matt asked her. And because it was the only honest answer she could give him, she replied, “Reading a book.” Her voice was strangely calm, even though her heart hammered like a steel band under her ribcage. It occurred to her to get up and leave. She couldn’t risk Noah turning up now.
“What are you doing here?” She closed her Kindle case and noted his smart appearance. He’d needed to impress at the interview, she thought.
“Going to the gym.” Even though he hadn’t called or let her know anything about his suspension—not that she expected or wanted him to—she knew he hadn’t been at work today, or at any time this week.
His eyes narrowed. “Who are you waiting for?” he asked breaking the uncomfortable silence with an unanswerable question. Knowing she couldn’t run the risk of him seeing her and Noah—it would enable him to piece it all together—she began to put her Kindle into her bag and made moves to leave.
“What’s up, Mel? Don’t you have anything to say?”
At that moment, Noah appeared by Matt’s side. “Hey,” he said, greeting Melissa warmly, a fire in his eyes that she hadn’t seen for a while.
She returned his look in alarm and then saw Matt, with his mouth hanging open, trying to make sense of the sight of them both. And then it seemed to hit him: Noah hadn’t accidentally bumped into him at the coffee shop. Noah had come here to meet Melissa. If there were a Richter scale for registering shock, Matt’s face would have scored ten.
The moment seemed to wind down into slow-motion, and she tensed, standing where she was, with her hand on her bag, waiting for someone to say or do something.
“Imagine running into you again,” said Noah, his gaze calm and unwavering, his mouth upturned. He slipped his hand out easily for a handshake.
Matt held his hand out stiffly. He looked caught in a web of bewilderment. “You two know each other?”
“Yeah,” replied Noah, cockily. “We do, as a matter of fact.” He gave Melissa a warm look that did more to heat her insides than the latte had done.
“How?” Matt stepped back, ignoring his question. Then he turned to Melissa. “When?”
She told herself there was nothing to feel guilty about, that she had done nothing wrong. Summoning courage, she answered, “We met here.” She had successfully rendered Matt’s face a question mark. “We’re friends.” She could almost hear his brain crunching over dates and scenarios. How they’d met, when they’d got together.
Later on, in time, he would no doubt wonder about his files being corrupted, and about the scan on his work computer, and then he would look more closely upon this newfound liaison he had stumbled upon. But for now, Melissa assumed, he was merely clutching at straws, putting two and two together but not coming up with four.
“Did you dump me for him?” Matt asked her, his voice incredulous.
She saw Noah move, wanting to answer that one, but he contained himself and looked at her as if to say: you’ve got this.
“I didn’t dump you for anyone. I tried to break up with you because you made me feel like shit. But you wouldn’t let me go.”
Matt’s lips twitched, and he let out a grunt. Eyes narrowed, he peered at them both. It looked as if he wanted to ask questions, but he didn’t know what he could ask, probably because in doing so he would only implicate himself further.
“By the way, dude. I recommended you to my boss.” Noah kept his tone light and jovial. But Matt was too caught up in the mismatched pieces of the puzzle. Noah continued, affably enough. “I have a feeling he might shortlist you. Of course, it all depends on character references next.”
At this, Matt blanched. “Yeah?” He gave Melissa a cutting look once and then mumbled a hasty goodbye to them both and left. When he’d gone out of the door, Melissa allowed herself to speak. She turned to Noah, feeling a sense of relief come over her. “I’m sorry. I was about to leave, so that this wouldn’t happen.”
“I followed him in, Melissa. I saw him look through the windows. I knew he was coming to speak to you.”
“Why did you want him to see you? He’ll figure it all out.”
“What’s the worst that can happen?”
“You don’t know him.”
“I think I do.” He sat down, took her hand in his. “Don’t worry. What’s he going to do?”
She shrugged, wanting to believe him, to have his sense of fearlessness.
“He’s stuck,” Noah told her. “He’s being watched and it would be stupid of him to make any moves now. Don’t you worry about him Melissa. At least stay here a while and finish your latte.”
She did, while he ordered his. He smiled at her as he sat down and they looked at one another from across the table. Though he’d only been here a few moments ago, they’d forgotten all about Matt.
After looking at
her across the table, Noah leaned in towards her. “Whatever happens between us, Melissa, I want you to know that you helped me.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Helped you? How?” If anyone had been doing any helping around here, it had been him. He’d helped her to see.
“I lost someone I loved, a year ago. My girlfriend, Bree.”
She gaped at him aghast. “I’m sorry.” It had been the last thing she’d expected him to say.
“She was ill. She’d suffered from bulimia for years. I never knew, until maybe six months before she died. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but I’d kind of figured something was wrong many months before that. She was so good at disguising the truth, as well as she disguised herself. Loose clothes and all. When it came out, she pushed me away. She lived with her parents and they were convinced they could help her. So I got out of the way.”
“I’m so sorry.” Melissa breathed, then reached across and grabbed a hold of his hand.
“In the end, they’d gotten her lots of help. Her mom says she was going to behavioral therapy and had started taking antidepressants. I don’t know.” He looked down. “I tried to help her, but she refused to see me. The thing is, when I look back on it now, it all makes sense. The signs were there. I was blind to them.”
“You can’t blame yourself for something you weren’t privy to,” Melissa said gently. “You wanted to help her, but you say she and her parents thought it better that you stay away. You can’t blame yourself.”
“Two weeks before she died, she wanted me to come see her. She looked a lot better; she seemed to be on the mend. She had a little more color in her cheeks and she told me she was winning, that the therapy was working, that there were days she could stand to look at herself in the mirror. She was hopeful about fighting it. Hopeful that she’d get better.” He looked up at her, his eyes shiny. “But when I held her”—he stopped, took a deep breath—“when I held her, it was like holding a child. ” He looked up at her. “The thing is, if you’d seen her, she seemed like the most confident, beautiful, outgoing person. She fooled us all.”