Resist: Bad Boy Romantic Suspense
Page 19
“I would say given your dedication to your class, your students, and this,” he pointed at Lana’s file, “you are easily in the top five for the position.”
“Really?” My eyes widened. “You can’t be serious.”
“I am.” He smiled. “I can see you here. And at the clinic,” he added with a wink.
The last part made me squirm.
“Great. Great.” He tapped his pen on the table. “You know this case reminds me of a review I worked on a few years ago. I had it printed in the Harvard Law Review.”
He rose from the table and strolled to his bookshelf. He paused on a leather-bound volume and handed it to me.
“You might find this interesting. I’m extremely proud of it.”
I moved to stuff it in my bag.
“Why don’t you look through it now?” he suggested. “We could discuss it.”
“I know your time is valuable, Professor Harrison. And limited.” I smiled. “I can read it tonight at home. Thank you for sharing it with me.” I didn’t feel comfortable sitting here while he watched me read.
“Really, it’s fine. Take your time.”
He returned to his seat, but nudged it closer. “I had another idea about the Foley case I wanted to discuss. It’s an important angle we have to consider. This suit is going to be in the headlines. I thought we could go over some strategies for handling the press. Using their influence to our advantage.”
“All right. Do you want to set that up for next week?” I retrieved my phone so I could check my schedule.
I felt the tap of his hand on my wrist and I looked up. My skin prickled.
“I was hoping we could grab a bite to eat and discuss it,” he revealed.
I knew I had frowned. I couldn’t help it.
“Are you asking me out?” It was hard to say the words. There was the possibility I had misread his intentions. My radar was permanently off course after Vaughn.
“Would that be so horrible?” He smiled. “We share a lot of similar interests, Elliot.”
I shook my head. “I don’t think we do.” I pushed my chair back. I needed to leave. “You run the department. You run the residency program.” I was angry. I was insulted.
“Those are both true statements.”
“And we are colleagues on this case. A case that has huge implications for our government. A case that will affect Congress by possibly removing a current senator. And you want to ask me out? In the middle of all of that, you think it’s ok to ask me out?”
The irritation festered into something sharper and stronger. I glared at the man I had considered a mentor just moments before. I felt a new level of betrayal.
“I’ve enjoyed working with you. And you’re a beautiful young woman. I didn’t mean to offend you. I don’t see why it’s an insult that I think those two things can go together.”
I pulled the bag over my shoulder, removing his review in the process and slamming it on the table. “And it’s the fact that you don’t see it that makes you so dangerous. You’re no different than Senator Mitcherson,” I blurted. “This is the same shit Lana Foley dealt with. Only she didn’t see it until after she was pregnant.”
Max put his hands up. “Elliot, I never suggested anything like that. I-I never meant to imply that sort of relationship. I never mentioned sex.”
I saw the panic in his eyes.
I didn’t care. I was furious.
“You didn’t have to,” I warned. “It was there in every word you spoke. Otherwise you never would have asked me to dinner.”
He looked stunned.
He had no right to hit on me. To tell me I was attractive. To want to spend time with me outside of this case. I was a professional. An intelligent woman who had earned her way into an incredible program. Who in the hell did he think he was?
“Elliot, please wait.” He followed me to the door.
I spun around on my heels. I had been right on my first day. They did make me feel powerful and in charge.
“I apologize if I have offended you in any way.”
“You have in every way.” I looked at him with a new level of disgust. “I think I’ll take the Foley case back.”
“Of course. Anything you need.”
“No more meetings.” I was halfway out the door. “None. I want nothing to do with your supervision.”
“That shouldn’t be necessary. Nothing occurred.”
I glared at him. “It did. And I’ll report you. No more meetings.”
He nodded in defeat. “No more meetings.”
I stormed down the hall, but just before I reached the outside door, I braced myself against the wall. My knees buckled for a quick second.
I pulled my shoulders back and walked out of the building. I had a ten-minute walk to the clinic. My head pivoted to the right. I had this feeling Max was behind me. I spun around, but he wasn’t there.
I walked through campus and turned again, knowing someone was watching me. I could feel the stare needling my neck. It was as obvious to me as the trees in my path. Only, I couldn’t find where it was coming from.
I returned to work.
“Everything ok,” Meg asked.
It wasn’t, but I lied. “Yes. You can send in the next client in five minutes.”
I walked behind my desk, ready to put my conversation with Max Harrison behind me.
Chapter Twenty-Six
For three weeks I met with Agent Kenneth every day at six o’clock. He waited for me on the steps outside my office at the clinic. We would sit on the bench in the commons until my shuttle arrived. I’d answer a few questions and then he’d let me go.
There was no new information on Vaughn. He hadn’t been spotted. He hadn’t surfaced on the intelligence radar.
I hadn’t decided if I was glad or not.
The last twenty-one days I had cycled through the stages of grief not once, but twice. Sometimes I’d go through all the stages in the same day. I would try to hold on to one, but a memory would attack, shaking me to my core.
When I turned the lights out at night and I reached for the cool sheets next to me was when the denial stage hit me. It was the moment in the day I didn’t care that I mourned a fictitious relationship. I didn’t care that the love was only on my side. That didn’t matter when the lights went down and I was alone.
In the mornings I usually awoke with anger. It propelled me out of bed. It fueled me more than the caffeine in my two cups of coffee. The anger was powerful. It took over everything until the next wave hit me.
Regret. Guilt. Embarrassment. Those were tossed in there with the sea of changing tides. I couldn’t hold on to one feeling for long before another one swept over me. Maybe that was my acceptance. Acceptance that this was my life now.
In a few days campus would be shut down. The students would leave for Thanksgiving break and as a general rule, the clinic followed the same schedule as the university.
I could tell Jessie and Gregory needed a break. They were excited about their proclaimed Friendsgiving. Meg was going home to Pennsylvania to spend the holiday with her grandmother. Addie hadn’t mentioned if she had plans. I had stopped bothering to ask her anything personal.
I decided that I would drive to New Bern. After spending money on an unexpected ticket, I couldn’t afford to buy another one so soon. Garrett was bringing Morgan to Thanksgiving dinner. It would be a distraction. One of the only times I considered New Bern a sanctuary.
Meg waltzed in my office with her time sheet.
“Can you sign this please so I can scan it in?” she asked, placing the form in front of me.
“Sure.”
I initialed the last line and dated it.
“I’m meeting some friends for drinks tonight. Want to go with us?”
“I don’t think so.” I hadn’t been out since everything collapsed. “I have finals to grade.”
I couldn’t imagine walking into a bar. I had no interest in men. I also had no confidence in my ability to judge character. That part o
f me was irreparable.
“Oh come on. You can get Jessie and Greg to work on that for you. You should have some fun. You’ll like my friends.”
I smiled. “I bet I would, but I want to get the grades in and posted tonight. Then it will be off my plate.”
She twisted her lips together. “You can text me if you change your mind.”
“Thanks. If I finish early, I’ll let you know.”
They didn’t know. No one here knew what had happened. They seemed sensitive and concerned, but I realized they were trying to give me space after what happened with Garrett’s emergency. Vaughn was a secret I kept to myself. A dark secret between the U.S. government and me.
I packed my laptop and locked my files for the night.
“Good night, Addie.”
She seemed to be staying later each night.
“Good night.”
Meg had left for the day and I walked outside.
Agent Kenneth waited for me. His long trench coat was laughable.
“Good evening, Elliot.”
“Hi.”
We walked in silence to our usual bench. I sat next to him. I made sure to keep a wide gap between us.
He flicked the power button on the recorder he used to capture our conversations. I considered them interrogations, but he made sure to remind me I was a willing participant in the investigation. It didn’t feel that way. It was either this or federal charges. My license to practice law was in jeopardy. My residency. Everything I had worked toward hinged on these meetings.
“Let’s get back to where we left off yesterday.”
“Ok.” I waited for him to give more of a prompt. I didn’t volunteer information.
“You mentioned that West took a trip to Germany.”
“Yes. At least that’s what he told me. Who knows where he really went.”
“Assuming he did go to Germany. What can you tell me about the trip?”
And this was when the haze settled in over my eyes. I didn’t know what was real and what was fabricated. The more I talked to the agent, the more I doubted every conversation I had with Vaughn. The more I doubted the stories. The dates. The closeness we shared. I couldn’t tell anymore if any of it was real.
“He didn’t say much about it.” I tried to think. I heard about Germany the night we first slept together. The night I gave in to every impulse.
“Come on. He had to say something. You know how this works. I’m putting a big puzzle together. You are responsible for the pieces.”
I glared at the agent. “He was gone a week. He said he didn’t have time to make phone calls.”
“What else?”
I stared at a couple holding hands. They walked from the café deeper into campus.
“He had to go unexpectedly. And when he got there he thought it was only going to be for two days, but it turned into a longer trip. He had to push back our first date.”
“Hmm.”
“Does that mean something to you?” I asked. “Is he in Germany now?”
“I’m the one asking questions, not answering.”
I crossed my arms. “I don’t have anything else.”
In the past weeks I hadn’t been given any information on Vaughn. I didn’t know where he was. And there was no way to know. I had never been to his apartment. I had never seen his office. And of course that made complete sense to me now. Neither were real. There was a reason we always slept at my place. He was waiting for Greer, and he never wanted me to have a glimpse of his life. He had prepared for this moment.
“Are you sure? Did he say what city? How long it took him to get there? Anything like that?”
I rolled my eyes. “He did bring me a gift.”
“He did?”
“A box of liquor-filled chocolates. It was sort of an apology gift.”
“That’s a new one.”
“They were actually really good.” It was a childish reaction to defend the gift.
“No, I mean the gift. I don’t remember him doing that before.”
I looked at the agent. I hated it when he compared me to the other marks. The women before me Vaughn had used. Only to them he hadn’t been Vaughn. He was Jake or Scott. Edward one time. It made my head spin thinking of all his identities. The stories he must have told. The careers he invented. I imagined each one played into the interest of the woman he seduced. He learned about what they liked. He studied their families. He took them to bed.
“Anything else?” I looked at my phone. It was time for me to walk to the shuttle.
“I’ll follow up tomorrow.” He turned off the recorder.
“I’m going to New Bern for Thanksgiving,” I informed him. “I assume I get a break for the holiday, or do you want to have pumpkin pie with my mother?”
He chuckled. “You are quite the smartass, Miss Charles.”
My stomach cinched. Vaughn had said that not long ago. He always called me “smartass.”
“Good night.” I walked toward the shuttle. “I’ll see you after Thanksgiving.”
“Good night, Miss Charles. Enjoy your holiday.”
The leaves rustled at my feet as I crunched over them. The wheels of the shuttle squeaked to a halt and I climbed aboard.
I hadn’t forgotten I had the apartment to myself tonight. Greer and Preston were on a date. She described it as a chance for them to get to know each other again. He had decided that Greer wasn’t as toxic to his career as he thought. No one in the Senate seemed to have even noticed they were dating.
I was in no position to give her relationship advice. So I kept my mouth shut and told her I’d be fine on my own. I had exams to grade. Exams that were mostly composed of essays. I needed quiet if I was going to get through them. Tonight it was better that I was left alone.
I held the bar overhead on the Metro. I commuted home on autopilot. I didn’t notice the signs anymore, or strain to listen for the crackled announcements. My body had learned how to count the minutes from Tenleytown to Adams Morgan. My legs carried me up the stairs to the street level without prompting. I was a part of the crowd now. One of the many D.C.’ers. I blended in in my Keds.
I didn’t think it would happen, but over time my appetite came back. I had lost five pounds from the grief. Tonight, I made a small pot of pasta and poured a glass of wine while I pulled up the submitted exams online.
I sat at the kitchen counter prepared to station myself here for the night. There was a basic rubric for grading. But I had added two bonus questions that gave students the chance to present their own take on legal philosophy. There was no true right or wrong. The questions were completely subjective to my interpretation, but I wanted to give them a challenge. Something that would allow them to think spontaneously, not just regurgitate answers they had studied from case history. Jessie was in favor of the system, while Gregory had argued I was being too tough on the students.
The pot started to boil and I rushed to turn the heat down on the burner. The water and olive oil splashed over the sides.
“Shit,” I murmured. The droplets burned my skin.
And then I heard it. A clamor. A crash that came from the balcony. It was probably one of the cats wandering over from next door. I had caught them trying to stalk our bird houses.
I turned the stove off and walked to the door. I slid it to the side and stepped onto the rooftop.
“Shoo,” I hissed. “Get out of here.” I scanned the chairs and the bird house stand for the cats.
It was quiet. It was dark. I couldn’t see well, but I noticed the shadowy figure in the corner. Tall and broad.
“Oh God,” I whispered.
My skin crawled with panic. I didn’t have anything to defend myself. I didn’t have my phone to call 9-1-1. It was inside on the counter.
I backed up, trying to reach for the door, but my movements felt slow and clumsy. I wanted to get inside and lock him out when the man stepped from the darkness. He walked toward me, the shadow covering half his face, encasing the rest of his
body in blackness.
I covered my face with my hands, shrinking in fear. I didn’t know if he was going to strike.
“Don’t run, Ell.”
My palms slid from my eyes and I stared in disbelief. Horror.
It was Vaughn.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
I scrambled for the door. I ran, throwing my hands on the latch, but he was faster than me. He clamped his grip around my wrists and pulled me into the cover of darkness. The bricks were rough against my arm.
“Let go of me.” I struggled.
“Shh. Stop. Just stop.”
I kicked at him. Something primal in me was unleashed. “Don’t touch me.” I wrestled, knowing he was stronger than I ever would be, but I didn’t stop fighting.
“Ell, I just want to talk to you. Can you stop kicking me for two seconds?”
My movements slowed and I looked into his eyes. My chest heaved. I was out of breath.
I had envisioned this. What it would be like to see him again. To look into his smoldering eyes. To feel the heat of his skin against mine. I wondered what I would do when I heard his voice. How it would awaken my senses. Remind me that what we had was real. That it wasn’t reduced to a criminal report in a bureau file.
His eyes bore into mine.
“Thank you.”
“What are you doing here?” I hissed.
“I wanted to see you. I needed to.”
“Don’t. Don’t lie. You don’t have to anymore. I know about Jeremy West.”
He didn’t drop his gaze. “Hear me out.”
“No.” I shook my head. “I don’t want to hear anything you say.”
“Nothing? You have no questions? You’re not curious? You don’t want to ask me anything?”
He baited my curiosity. He lured me in with the appeal of healing the pain. Because if somehow I had answers I would feel better. It wouldn’t feel as if I couldn’t breathe anymore. I’d be able to make it through a day without sobbing. I’d be able to sleep without drinking three glasses of wine. I’d be over him if I knew the truth. I’d be free.
If I had the truth, I could heal. I could let him go. I could let the whole thing be in the past. The pain would be gone. The shattering would stop.