48. Ariadne
48
ARIADNE
I didn’t think we’d be travelling together, but Caleph insists I fly with him back to the States on his private jet since he’s going there anyway. He’s made sure the bounty has been cancelled and he’s paved the way for my safe return, including Arsen, his newly acquired asset who’ll act as my capable bodyguard for the foreseeable future.
It had been no use arguing with him, even when I told him in no uncertain terms that I didn’t want anything from him. The wounded look on his face had damn near destroyed me, and I had felt my heart thawing towards him as I considered everything he’d done to ensure my safety. Not to mention the five missing politicians who had seemingly dropped off the face of the earth, never to be seen or heard from again.
I settle into my seat, getting comfortable as the jet prepares to take off.
“How’s the book coming along?” Caleph asks.
I look at him carefully. He sits in the seat opposite me, wearing a dark charcoal suit that sets off his dark features. His hair is longer at the back than when I first met him, and if it were at all possible, his eyes are darker.
I can’t help but laugh at his question. “Good. Attila’s character is finally coming together.”
Caleph laughs too. It’s a running joke I had with Attila while writing the book and weaving his characteristics into the book. The character ended up nothing like Attila, but the process had been fun while it lasted.
“And have you given any thought to what you’ll do when you’re back in Seattle?” he asks me.
I’d done nothing but think about what I would do. I was yesterday’s news. No matter how much I’d helped to elevate Hinky’s publication with my writing, there was no way he’d give me my job back after being away for a month without producing an article that was going to top the last one. And as for my share apartment, Nina had already informed me that when she went to remove my personal effects from the apartment, the evil witch had apparently already disposed of them. I’d be starting over from scratch.
“Mmm,” I hum. “I’ll stay with Nina and Michael until I can find a job and a place to stay.”
“I don’t know why you’re being so stubborn about me helping you.”
“You know why, Caleph,” I whisper. “I need my autonomy.”
“But you’ll take Nina and Michael’s help?”
“That’s different, and you know it,” I bite out.
“Different… how?”
He cocks his head and looks at me, genuinely curious. I splutter, don’t know what to say to him. I don’t want to be beholden to him. And I don’t want him to be my sugar daddy.
“Ariadne…”
I hold up a hand, my eyes pleading with him.
“Please, Caleph. Please. Just let me go.”
* * *
Nina and Michael are kind enough to offer me their spare room, but Michael is irritating the fuck out of me. I don’t know how Nina does it, but I guess his personality complements hers. I try to minimize the number of conversations I have in his presence, if only to protect my sanity. Though he’s still insisting that I need therapy, I’m starting to think that possibly he’s the one who needs it more than I.
“So… pretty gutsy, what you did,” Michael starts. “Taking off for a month to write your manuscript.”
It’s the excuse I’ve given everyone who’s asked. And where was I? Mexico. The quietest place for someone like me to be where I could write in peace. Nina looks at me with some suspicion. She doesn’t for a second believe my story, but she doesn’t harp on about it unless Michael isn’t around.
“How does a person even do that? Make up characters in their head?”
He waves his hands around in the air like such a thought is hard to comprehend.
“Not a person, Michael,” Nina explains. “She’s a writer; that’s what writers do.”
“Well, she’s a journo, really, isn’t she?”
We both stare at him like he’s grown two heads. Trust Michael to always say the wrong thing at the wrong time.
There’s a knock on the door, and we all look toward the door in surprise, as though in doing so, it would tell us who’s there.
“You expecting anyone?” Michael asks, as he gets up to answer the door.
I am in the unfortunate position of sitting facing the door. My eyes pop in surprise when I see Rand standing at the door, speaking in hushed tones with Michael. Michael, who has a sheepish look on his face as he walks back into the room.
“I heard you were back,” Rand says, an apologetic look on his face as he tucks his hands in his pockets.
I look at Michael – obviously he’s embarrassed because he’s the idiot who told him I was back.
“And?” I prod.
“Thought I’d drop by and say hello.”
There is no feeling in me as I look at him. I can’t believe I ever even found him good looking. And his version of charming was narcissism.
“Hello, Rand.” My voice is sarcastic as I address him. “Anything else I can do for you?”
“Let me take you to dinner.”
There’s a note of desperation in his voice. Surprisingly, in my books, Rand is the greater of two evils when I compare him to Caleph. If I was going to give anyone a second chance, it wouldn’t be Rand. Hands down.
“Thank you for the offer, Rand. But I don’t think so.”
“You could have a change of heart,’ he whispers, a note of desperation in his voice.
Ahhh… I don’t think so.
“He’s really trying,” Michael says, after Rand leaves and he comes back to join us at the table. Nina slaps his arm. Hard. Tells him to shut up and stay out of my business. It’s the harshest I’ve ever heard her talking to her husband.
Michael ignores her, his face serious as he turns to me.
“Some might consider you fleeing to Mexico to write a book some form of disorder…”