In a Fix (Torus Intercession 2)

“Yes.”

“Third…we met not long after I’d gone through an ugly breakup. I was at the point where I was just done, you know?” I nodded to let her know I got it. And then she grimaced, like what she was about to say next tasted bad on her tongue. “It was actually my idea to be his cover story.” The look on my face must have registered as shock, because she hurried on. “Brig would become CEO of Stanton-Downey, I’d reap the various benefits of his network of connections, and as long as we were both discreet, we could present as the happy and committed power couple while still leading our own private lives. But things have changed in the last six months,” she said, pensive as I removed her dresses from the closet and rehung them in the garment bag.

“What things?” I asked, because I had an idea what she could be alluding to.

“Nolan,” she replied flatly, resuming her packing. “The more time we spent together, the more I realized that perhaps I’m not as selfless, or as done with the idea of a relationship, as I thought I was.”

I was quiet, letting her talk.

“Every time I see Nolan,” she said wistfully, “he’s kinder, more attentive and thoughtful than the time before,” she said, her voice strained, the smile she tried to give me, watery. “I’d have to be blind not to see his interest, and it made me wonder, you know?”

“About what?”

She shrugged. “What he sees.”

“In you, you mean?”

Quick nod.

“Probably what most people do,” I replied, gesturing at her. “A bright, beautiful, funny woman who’s easy to talk to.”

She bit her bottom lip. “You see?” she choked out. “That’s what I mean. Apparently I’m not great at seeing that in myself.”

“Brig takes you for granted, and you’re not even really friends.”

“No,” she agreed, “we’re not.”

“So there’s no support system there.”

She wiped at her eyes quickly. “No, not in the slightest.”

“And so hanging around, after the way he blew you off out there, because he couldn’t see anyone but Eric…that broke the rules of your arrangement.”

“It did,” she confirmed. “You and I both know that was impossible to miss. An entire room full of people ceased to exist when Brig caught sight of Eric.”

“It was unmistakable, you’re right.” I cleared my throat. “You have every right to feel embarrassed.”

She nodded, tipping her head to the side. “Do I?” Her voice held a note of daring, and I realized what I’d said.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to imply––”

“No, I know,” she said, dismissing my apology with a wave of her hand. “It’s not like I couldn’t have predicted this failing epically. I may be just a bit overwrought at the moment.”

She was amazing was what she was. “I think you’re being great.”

“Why? Because I’m not making a scene?”

“Yes, but really, what would be the point of that?”

“To make me feel better?”

“But would it?” I asked seriously. “You’d come off as unhinged.”

“Which I could very well be.”

I studied her, the calm, how meticulously she was packing. “Are you?”

She took a breath. “No. Not really.”

I went back to helping her pack, but I had a thought. “May I ask a question?”

“Of course,” she replied blandly, turning to look at me.

“What now?”

“How do you mean?” she asked as she went back to packing.

“With Nolan.”

She shook her head.

“You’re just dismissing that out of hand?”

“Please, Croy, I couldn’t possibly entertain such a thing.”

“Why not? He’s got it bad for you,” I reminded her. “But you know that.”

“Yes,” she replied wistfully.

“Do you like him, or just the attention?”

“You make me sound horrible,” she said, trying not to smile.

“Which is not my intent.”

She sighed. “I know, but…how would that even work?”

“If you want it, you make it work. ‘Time is too slow for those who wait…’”

We were quiet for a moment.

“You can still be sad,” I informed her. “It’s still an end.”

“Yes.”

I winced.

“What?”

“I’m doing it again.”

“Sounding pretentious?” she teased me.

“Yes,” I agreed. “It’s a terrible quality.”

“It’s all right,” she murmured, and I could hear the resignation in her tone. “And you weren’t pretentious, not at all. You’re right, though. I am sad,” she explained as she systematically repacked, placing shoes in smaller Louis Vuitton bags, using her Tetris skills to arrange everything just so.

“The façade wasn’t sustainable.”

“No,” she admitted, and for a few minutes we packed in silence, until Nolan walked into the room.

“What’s going on?”

Both of us stopped and looked at him. I found myself squinting as Astor scowled.

“What?” he asked again, irritably, gesturing at me. “And what are you doing in here?”

“I’m helping,” I replied, because surely it was obvious.

“Why? Where is she going?” he demanded, and then turned to Astor. “Where are you going?” He moved around in front of her, barring her path back to the suitcase.

“Please, Lan, you couldn’t have missed––” She stopped, at a loss, turning to me.