I debated joining the two of them for breakfast. I could discuss leaving with both of them at once and get it over with, but it was so hard for me to be near either of them at the moment. Together I’d be distracted by the way they were with each other, searching for innuendo and pretending I didn’t notice when I found it. So, instead, I waited until Amber was snoozing on a lounge in the courtyard and slipped by her to Reeve’s office.
The wall to his office was open and his back was to me while he worked at his L-shaped desk. It was tempting to watch him for a minute before I made myself known – the muscles in his neck were tight and his shoulders seemed slumped but he was still so magnificent to look at.
But he always had an uncanny way of sensing my presence, so I only gave myself a few seconds to take him in before I forced myself to stroll in confidently. “When can I go home?” I asked with no other preamble.
His head ticked up abruptly, either surprised by my question or surprised to see me in his office. Both were possible.
I didn’t allow myself to search for any signs of disappointment in his eyes as his gaze met mine. “That’s up to you.” He leaned back in his chair. “I’ll arrange transportation the minute you ask. I’m not keeping you here.”
He was so solemn, so matter-of-fact. So emotionless. There wasn’t even a trace of bitterness as he emphasized the word “keeping.” And he hadn’t argued, which was unexpected. And disappointing.
“So, is it safe for me to leave now?”
“You’ll have to check with Joe to be certain. He and I have talked quite a bit through e-mail. He said he’d found a suitable place for you to move into last week. A gated community. Last he mentioned, he was checking to see when he could get in and test out the security system.”
“I suppose I don’t have any say in this, do I?” I’d wanted to be stoic like he was but failed. I was too irritated. I just didn’t know if it bothered me more that Reeve had been talking to Joe or that Joe had been talking to Reeve. I’d assumed the latter would leave me out of my own life planning, but not Joe. Yet it was Reeve’s lack of disclosure that hurt me more than Joe’s.
“Of course you get a say. I figured you and he were in contact. I apologize for assuming.” Reeve hit a few buttons on his keyboard and I tried to remember a time that I’d heard him say he was sorry. Though he’d shown regret in his actions, I couldn’t think of any time he’d actually given an apology. Somehow hearing it now made the distance between us widen, even as he swiveled his laptop toward the side and beckoned me to come around his desk to look at the screen. “This is it.”
I bent to click through the images, seven different shots of a one-bedroom apartment. It was nice, actually. Similar to the location and style of the place I lived in now. I clicked Escape and was taken to Joe’s e-mail. It was short and concise, and said pretty much exactly what Reeve had just told me. It also listed the rental price, which was reasonable.
I glanced at the address line of the message. “He copied me at my other e-mail address.” He’d sent it to the account I’d set up strictly for corresponding with him. “I guess I haven’t been checking that one.” I cleared my throat as I straightened. “I’m sorry for overreacting.”
“I didn’t think you were overreacting at all,” he said sincerely.
The last time I’d spent any time with him, after he’d left me on the ledge both literally and figuratively, he’d barely been able to look at me. Now his eyes sought mine out at every opportunity. I wanted to believe the change meant he missed me. That he couldn’t stand to keep from staring into me for long, the same way that I couldn’t stop from staring into him.
It made me want to say things I hadn’t come to say. Made me want to apologize for more than overreacting. Made me want to ask him to do the things to me that he’d said he wouldn’t do unless I did.
All of which was counterproductive. I shook his gaze away. “What about Michelis? What’s going on with him?”
“Actually, he sent something just this morning.” He closed Joe’s e-mail and clicked on the top line in his inbox. The message opened and Reeve gestured toward the screen for me to read.
I peeked at it somewhat thrilled he’d chosen to share it with me. Until I realized it had been written in Greek. “I can’t read it. What does it say?”
“Oh. Right.” He chuckled at himself as he tilted the screen where we could both see it. “Basically, I have not done these things of which you accuse me. I have alibis for all events. One alibi even your own beautiful Emily.”
Your own beautiful Emily.
I snuck a peek at him after he said my name, wondering how he felt when he called me his, if it felt anything like how I felt when I heard it.
He swallowed, suggesting that it at least made him feel something. But that something could have been irritation, because then he launched into a rant about what he’d read so far. “It’s ridiculous. Alibis prove nothing, and he knows that. He never does his own dirty work. Blakely’s toxicology report is going to say overdose, we’re sure of that, but Joe’s been investigating and he’s found one of Michelis’s men spotted on the set’s surveillance camera. There’s no way that’s a coincidence.”
“Then they’ll be able to press charges against someone?”
“Doubtful. There’s not any evidence pointing to foul play. And even if we could prove that it was murder, someone else would take the fall for Michelis. There are people who would be heavily rewarded for that kind of sacrifice.”