Chapter 11
POV – Cal
It is well past eleven when I finally get to the office.
Last night might have started as a disaster, but it sure as hell ended with fireworks and I mean it in the best possible way.
There is nothing better than make up sex!
I think we both have changed significantly since our marriage fell apart and now our relationship is based on completely different grounds. I'm crazy about the woman and the passion that we share is breathtaking.
Only in the parking lot I remember what I tried so hard to forget with exquisite vine and passionate sex. Unpleasant taste of apology hits my tongue. I guess this time I will have to overcome myself and actually say the words. Who would have thought that one small simple five letter could be such a pain in the ass. It is not the sound combination that drives me nuts, but the underlying message. I do hate to be wrong.
Top priorities on my agenda for today are to make amendments with Gill and fire Rader, preferably in that order. Hopefully Gill's eyes are finally opened and she has realized what a snake she has warmed under her wing.
I can't say I really look forward to any if this, but there is definitely certain level of satisfaction involved when I think how Rader's face will lose that annoying cheeky grin for a second day in a row.
Unfortunately all my plans are scattered into dust when Heidi informs that Jack left the office some time ago, and Gill hadn't been in yet.
I ask Heidi to call me when either of them appears and retreat to my office.
The screen of the phone blinks indicating several missed calls I have no intention to return.
I'm not overly surprised that Jack is not here. He spends a lot of time outside the office, due to meetings with clients. I have my doubts about the soundness of the justification, but luckily for Rader I have never bothered enough to catch him in lies.
Gill's absence, on the other hand, is something new. Come raging storm or blizzard, she is always here - punctual as IRS on taxing day.
Over last decade there hasn't been a single day she had taken off or been late without prior warning. Come to think of it, even those times could be counted on fingers of one hand.
On their own accord my thoughts head down the memory lane and for whatever reason stop on a particular (not overly pleasant) occasion. Whole ordeal still makes me weary.
It happened when we just started the business. Paper workload was truly enormous, as we had to do everything on our own. There weren't enough resources to afford assistant or even accountant. I was always in the field and Gill took care of all the papers and rest of 'in house' issues that included analyses of filmed or recorded materials. Needles to say that we didn't have any of the fancy expensive equipment currently decorating our office.
How she mastered it all is beyond me. The computer kept hanging up on anything needing more resources than opening a word document and audio player was creaking like it was dying from a white scourge.
Gill caught nasty bronchitis, but instead of taking some days off, silly thing kept coming to work. It was extremely cold winter. On top of it the heating system in our office wasn't changed since great depression.
It was morning. We were having meeting with one of our potential clients. Gill was giving short presentation of our services when she suddenly swayed and collapsed right in the middle of the sentence. It all happened so fast. The sight of her going completely blank scared the living hell out of me.
Before the meeting I noticed that she looked paler (if being precise – greyer) and more tired than usual, but when I asked her whether something was wrong she said that everything was 'fine'.
Only later I learned that this four letter word supported with a well executed, but false smile and reassuring nod was standard answer to any personal question under any circumstances - she was 'fine' when Sophie was taken away, she was 'fine' when she and Ava (Ria's sister) were attacked in her house and she was 'fine' when she was attacked during Jenkins case, she was 'fine' after she caught Alec using drugs again, and subsequently divorced him, she was 'fine' when her father died and she was 'fine' when Claire died – why wouldn't she be 'fine' walking around with heavy pneumonia to start with…
When I touched her unresponsive body, it was burning like a fire. Her breathing was so hollow and pulse so weak that it almost felt as if her body had shut down completely. Never in my life I have been so scared as in those minutes when we waited for ambulance to arrive.
Doctors fought for a week to get her back to senses, while fever mercilessly ravaged her body.
When she finally woke, she was so slim that you could count all her bones, and off course she was 'fine'.
I still can't forgive myself that I didn't notice her state before it was too late.
Phone call roughly pulls me back from the reverie.
Heidi informs that I have a visitor waiting in the cube. I wonder who that could be.
As a leave the office a thought crosses my mind. Gill's absence could play well into my hand today.
She had always been the one to defend sleazy scumbag. If it weren't for her, I would have fired the man long ago - when he was just an arrogant bastard without experience and wide range of connections.
Now getting rid of him could backfire, but I don't care – Rader will pay.
POV – Rader
Meeting with Bennett was interesting to say the least.
Assignment itself is something else (I still haven't figured what to make of it), but Foster's expression of genuine surprise when we were told that it is unpaid top secret mission to be done as personal favor to the Commander keeps me wondering how much out of it she yesterday really was. After all, the woman was in the room and even gave nonverbal agreement when I offered our services totally free of charge. It was only thing I managed to think of that would make Commander if not change his mind then at least to think twice before breaking all ties with our firm.
Off course, when I made the proposal, I didn't necessarily mean the next day!
Even more so I didn't mean for it to be a plot from James Bond movie. It is one thing to unmask and catch in lies regular people, corporate thieves, grifters, politicians or even criminals and completely different - to infiltrate highly classified governmental institution responsible for dealing with espionage and counterespionage. A place that is full of professionally trained liars. In this environment undercover idea seems as a minimum nuts.
I'm dying to know what Mrs Smith thinks about it, but, as always, her expression is well-guarded mask. I have to admit that once again I'm truly impressed by Foster's composure. There wasn't even tiniest twitch of muscle on woman's face when Bennett informed us about his plan. Even I got chills from all that James Bond crap.
I look across the car roof. Without even tiniest glance in my direction Foster opens the doors and disappears from my line of vision.
She hadn't uttered a single word since we left commander's office. Apparently the silent treatment is back in full force.
Well, two can play this game!
...
As we walk to the office I can't overcome my curiousity any longer, "What are we going to do about the mission?"
Foster's face is blank and voice emotionless as she replies, "We do what we were told – keep our mouths shut and wait for instructions."
I try to push futher, "Are you planning to tell Call about this?"
Bad choice.
"That is none of your business. By the way did you finish the reports I asked you yesterday?"
Talk about change of topics. Is she for real?
"Are you for real? I nursed you half of last evening and today we got this. When the hell did you want me to finish them?"
"Actually two days ago."
For some reason her calm, admonitory tone annoys me more than usually.
I open the doors and let her in, "There is no way…", but Foster sharply cuts me off, "No more excuses, reports have to be on my table by the end of the day."
I don't know how it all would have ended if Loker, who was on his way to the Cube, hadn't catched up with us and asked Gill's assistance on the case he was working on.
At least for a moment demanding Megaera is off my back.
And to think I felt sorry for her...
POV – Gill
Today's fight with Rader drains me more than usually; I guess the morning stress has left its toll on me. Even back at Bennett's office my thoughts kept returning to my mom and her condition. I worry about her so much.
Loker opens the doors to the workroom - the one where the Cube is, and we both freeze at the Zalman King worth scene that greets us. Cal and Zoe are making out as if there is no tomorrow.
Everything inside me turns upside down. Pain is so strong that I feel it not only on emotional, but physical level.
It is like a slap to the face, icy shower of reality. I want to disappear, to step back in time and never enter this room. How many times did we do the same – enjoyed each other behind locked doors (key word being – locked!).
How could Cal do this to me?
Does he think I'm carved from a stone?
New jolt of sharp pain runs through me. Cheeks turn crimson from shame - shame that Cal thinks so little of me to pull this off, shame that Loker is here with me, seeing not only those two, but mine reaction to them as well.
When Loker casts a compassionate glance in my direction I want to die.
Situation turns from highly uncomfortable into awkward when Zoe turns her head and seeing both of our dumbfounded and lost expressions smiles. There is not even tiniest hint of shame or surprise on her face, only gloating and certain level of satisfaction.
Then it hits me!
The whole show was meant for my eyes. Zoe marked her territory. Loud and clear.
The room blurs.
My chest hurts as if being trapped inside working garbage press machine and the smothering feeling from this morning hits me with double force.
Something inside me breaks, shatters into tiny pieces.
I sharply turn on my heel.
Loker barely manages to jump aside as I run out of the room.
POV – Rader
I'm on my way out to grab some 'lunch'. Tracy or was it Macy called to have a mid day delight. Who am I to say no to such a shameless proposal?
In the lobby I almost collide with the Wicked Witch of the West, who despite ten inch heels runs down the hall like aiming for Olympic gold. I wouldn't have declined myself a pleasure of sarcastic comment, if it weren't for her expression. It reminds a person who had seen personified mixture of Jeepers Creepers and Freddy Krueger or something equally disturbing. Foster's pallor resembles a piece of white paper.
What the hell is wrong now?
Can the Drama Queen survive a single day without excess?
I shake my head.
Why do I even care?
She does not bother me about the reports or deadlines. I didn't do or said anything inappropriate, so whatever is wrong now – it is not my fault.
More importantly - I have my own problems to deal with.
Was it Tracy or Macy?
tbc