Chapter 13
''It's sad really'' Nikita Wolfe said, absently looking out the fifth floor apartment window.
''Quite, but it happens rather frequently." Michael Samuelle answered, his voice echoing as a whisper in the completely empty space around them. It was one of those times when Nikita knew he was replying purely by instinct because his words were said without any emotion. Although he was standing beside her, his total concentration was on the scene he was observing through his binoculars. Or, more specifically, on Nikolai Markali 's office, whose wide window was well viewed from their point of observation. Bless Birkoff and his diligent approach to their work; finding this place had been ingenious rather than lucky.
''In truth, I was talking about us not about Corinne Markali. I thought we were making progress; missing people, kidnappings, lost relatives, threats, stolen valuables to be recovered and now we are back to the basics with nothing better to sink our teeth into.''
Nikita liked looking at Michael when he couldn't turn and see that she was staring at him; it gave her a glimmer of wicked satisfaction for all the times he had caught her doing just that.
''You don't always have to like the job, Nikita. Sometimes you just have to do it.''
Still, he didn't acknowledge her physical presence at his side with any reaction other than looking slightly annoyed at being forced to talk when he was otherwise occupied. His apparent apathy toward her left Nikita feeling deeply dejected without valid reasons. It was as if the kiss she gave him four nights ago in a moment of alcohol-induced weakness never happened. He never mentioned it and she simply pretended that she didn't remember so as not to push the issue. At the beginning she had felt almost victorious, but now she wasn't so sure he had really kissed her back. Maybe she had only imagined or dreamt the whole thing. Who could say? She was not in the habit of ever drinking enough to get tipsy.
Although Nikita hated second-guessing herself, it was becoming shockingly clear that around Michael her confidence seemed to fall like dominoes stacked one behind the other. Her feelings for him were like an earthquake that left no part of her already complicated inner universe intact. In some way, even when she was in a position of advantage like now, Michael succeeded in making her feel like she had been stripped naked in a room full of strangers. The worst part of it was that some days she would just shrug it off, let him do it, but today was not one of those days and nothing could offend her self-esteem more than his treatment of her as if she was a capricious child; however, she took no steps to make him aware of this.
''You should put a flashing neon sign over your head when you aren't in a conversational mood Michael. It would help all of us.''
She saw Michael lift the corners of his mouth for a fraction of a second in response and was rebuffed by his indecisiveness.
''What do you know about the woman?''
''Her name is Eliza Parker and she is an assistant. She hit it off with Markali during her first week there because of a common art interest. She is passionate about politics. Her addition to the staff goes back five months. Wonder of wonders, it coincides with the beginning of the Nikolai Markali disappearing acts.''
''More or less. Birkoff is working on her?''
''Yes. He says he could have something by this afternoon.''
Michael nodded and again became silent. He put down his binoculars and with a fluid movement shrugged off the tension centered in his back. He was doing his best to forget just how much he had desired his partner four nights ago but it was difficult, and this caused him to impose unfamiliar self-restraint on his actions toward her. He had not expected that this decision would sorely limit the spontaneity they shared. On the other hand, if he ignored this new concept to look at her in a different light, things between them would soon return to the way they had been all along. As soon he ceased trying to rationalize why that kiss had been so good, he would then stop with the complex conjectures on why she had kissed him and why he had kissed her back. Truthfully, he needed to just stop thinking about last night!
Michael was about to invite her out for coffee when her cell phone rang, cutting him off and capturing her immediate and complete attention. It always seemed to him as if Nikita's mind was constantly running in new and mysterious directions at a speed that other people could never contemplate.
''Excuse me'' she said in an accent that was gently mocking, and then dismissed him with a smile and brought the phone to her ear.
''It's sad really'' Nikita Wolfe said, absently looking out the fifth floor apartment window.
''Quite, but it happens rather frequently." Michael Samuelle answered, his voice echoing as a whisper in the completely empty space around them. It was one of those times when Nikita knew he was replying purely by instinct because his words were said without any emotion. Although he was standing beside her, his total concentration was on the scene he was observing through his binoculars. Or, more specifically, on Nikolai Markali 's office, whose wide window was well viewed from their point of observation. Bless Birkoff and his diligent approach to their work; finding this place had been ingenious rather than lucky.
''In truth, I was talking about us not about Corinne Markali. I thought we were making progress; missing people, kidnappings, lost relatives, threats, stolen valuables to be recovered and now we are back to the basics with nothing better to sink our teeth into.''
Nikita liked looking at Michael when he couldn't turn and see that she was staring at him; it gave her a glimmer of wicked satisfaction for all the times he had caught her doing just that.
''You don't always have to like the job, Nikita. Sometimes you just have to do it.''
Still, he didn't acknowledge her physical presence at his side with any reaction other than looking slightly annoyed at being forced to talk when he was otherwise occupied. His apparent apathy toward her left Nikita feeling deeply dejected without valid reasons. It was as if the kiss she gave him four nights ago in a moment of alcohol-induced weakness never happened. He never mentioned it and she simply pretended that she didn't remember so as not to push the issue. At the beginning she had felt almost victorious, but now she wasn't so sure he had really kissed her back. Maybe she had only imagined or dreamt the whole thing. Who could say? She was not in the habit of ever drinking enough to get tipsy.
Although Nikita hated second-guessing herself, it was becoming shockingly clear that around Michael her confidence seemed to fall like dominoes stacked one behind the other. Her feelings for him were like an earthquake that left no part of her already complicated inner universe intact. In some way, even when she was in a position of advantage like now, Michael succeeded in making her feel like she had been stripped naked in a room full of strangers. The worst part of it was that some days she would just shrug it off, let him do it, but today was not one of those days and nothing could offend her self-esteem more than his treatment of her as if she was a capricious child; however, she took no steps to make him aware of this.
''You should put a flashing neon sign over your head when you aren't in a conversational mood Michael. It would help all of us.''
She saw Michael lift the corners of his mouth for a fraction of a second in response and was rebuffed by his indecisiveness.
''What do you know about the woman?''
''Her name is Eliza Parker and she is an assistant. She hit it off with Markali during her first week there because of a common art interest. She is passionate about politics. Her addition to the staff goes back five months. Wonder of wonders, it coincides with the beginning of the Nikolai Markali disappearing acts.''
''More or less. Birkoff is working on her?''
''Yes. He says he could have something by this afternoon.''
Michael nodded and again became silent. He put down his binoculars and with a fluid movement shrugged off the tension centered in his back. He was doing his best to forget just how much he had desired his partner four nights ago but it was difficult, and this caused him to impose unfamiliar self-restraint on his actions toward her. He had not expected that this decision would sorely limit the spontaneity they shared. On the other hand, if he ignored this new concept to look at her in a different light, things between them would soon return to the way they had been all along. As soon he ceased trying to rationalize why that kiss had been so good, he would then stop with the complex conjectures on why she had kissed him and why he had kissed her back. Truthfully, he needed to just stop thinking about last night!
Michael was about to invite her out for coffee when her cell phone rang, cutting him off and capturing her immediate and complete attention. It always seemed to him as if Nikita's mind was constantly running in new and mysterious directions at a speed that other people could never contemplate.
''Excuse me'' she said in an accent that was gently mocking, and then dismissed him with a smile and brought the phone to her ear.