Ch. 18 The Devil Without His Pitchfork
The Awards season is finally winding down. For the first time in months, I'm not running to get something done and I'm determined to enjoy my rare night off. It really helps that Legend gave me tomorrow off as well.
I'm going to order a pizza, settle down with wine, and binge all the movies on the Oscars best movie list this year. I'm going to stay up the whole night, sleep in late, eat leftover pizza and pretend I've got money to burn.
I grin.
The night air is sweet as the bus slows near my bus stop.
It's been a month since Ella's wedding, and they're returning from their honeymoon soon.
I can't help but smile at Ella's excitement when she called from the Bahamas.
Ella and Keith are so different, and yet so similar. It's like they round off each others' worst edges, and together they are delightful.
A pair of electric blue eyes push their way into my mind, and I pack them into a suitcase before dropping it into the sea.
I haven't heard hide nor hair from Marcus and I couldn't be happier. I was half convinced I would find him outside my door with a pitchfork in hand.
An amused laugh escapes my lips as I exit the bus. My apartment is just a short block away.
The neighborhood isn't great, but it isn't bad. It's really far from work, but the rent is decent and the path home is well lit.
I am safe. That's all that matters.
I get off the bus and head home, humming a tune I can't remember the song of when I notice the car on the street. No one drives a car like this in my neighborhood.
It's sleek, with a powerful engine—a sports car. I catch the logo—a BMW—before my eyes land on the driver leaning on it.
What the—?
He straightens and inclines his head in acknowledgement.
So, it's finally happened.
I can't resist looking around him, searching for his weapon of choice.
"What are you doing?" Marcus asks in a tight voice.
"Hmm?" I look at him and smile. I can't help being amused. "I'm looking for your pitchfork."
"What?" He looks surprised and confused, like he wasn't expecting that response. I can't help but laugh.
"Nothing. I'll be off then." I wave at him and head towards home.
I'm in a good mood. I'm not interested in butting heads with him tonight. I got things to do.
"Wait!" He looks nonplussed. I guess he wasn't expecting me to simply walk away.
"Is there somewhere we can talk?"
I pause mid-step. "What could we possibly have to talk about?"
He just raises an eyebrow at me in challenge. "Afraid I'll pull out a pitchfork?"
I can feel my hackles rise. "Fine. Come on, but say what you want quickly and leave—I've got plans I won't cancel."
He frowns, but nods and follows me.
—-------------------
I wait for a few seconds longer as I observe her from near my car. She's humming a lovely melody and my heart races. She has a beautiful voice—I never knew that about her.
She doesn't match the person articles circulating about her paint her to be. Just like I never saw the cheating and frame-up coming.
A frown forms. How can there be such a dichotomy in presentation vs. perception? I read that she was an actor. Is she acting now? Or is this her real self?
When she finally notices the car, and then me, I find my breath caught for a second. She's breathtaking.
She's wearing a simple jeans and t-shirt outfit, hair pulled back in a ponytail, though she's wearing heels.
It's her eyes though, blue and brown—like heavens and earth have come together to create her—that are shining so brightly, so openly, that it takes me right back to the night when the world was white, and things weren't so complicated.
I almost forgot for a second why I was here.
When I finally ask if we can talk, my voice doesn't have the same animosity as it should—and she's clearly not concerned either.
Her being this happy unsettles me. It's making me wonder what I might've missed.
I was right not to wait for too long.
I follow after her, burning with curiosity. Was she planning to go on a date?
She leads me to a park and just a few feet from the entrance is a bench. She drops her bag on the bench and turns to me.
"So. What did you want to say?"
I blink in surprise. Her voice is neutral, but I don't miss the impatience. Again, she takes me by surprise.
Her words are direct—no guilt for what she did, no apology.
I bristle.
"Why did you admit to the frame up? What are you hiding?"
She scoffs, her tone bitter. Her eyes are direct when she meets mine, challenge clear in them.
"Why should I tell you? You wouldn't believe the truth if it danced naked in front of you. As for my secrets, they're my own to keep."
I grit my teeth. "I believe in what evidence tells me."
She snorts. "How convenient. Evidence said you stole the answer keys. Yet somehow, you're here, absolutely fine."
"So why not try me?"
"Because I don't trust you."
I open my mouth, then snap it shut. There's no point to this argument.
"I am here—" I pause deliberately, to make sure I have her full attention.
"—to offer you a job."
She stills in surprise, her lips forming an 'O'.
"Offer me what, now?"
"A job. J-O-B. Job. Damn, I thought you were smart."
Her mouth thins and she retorts, "I decline." She starts towards the exit, clearly irritated.
I heave a breath and steady myself. I need to stop antagonizing her if I want this to succeed.
"I'll triple your current salary, plus pay you a 5% bonus should we succeed."
That gets her attention. She slowly turns around, face impassive. "Keep talking."
This isn't how I envisioned it going. I grit my teeth and take a seat on the bench. I cross my legs and gesture beside me.
I watch as hesitation flits through her eyes, then doubt... She bites her lower lip—and I can literally see the moment she thinks—fuck it—and moves to sit beside me.
I wait for her to settle in, lips lifting in a slight smirk. The park is bright, and there are kids playing in the background.
Their laughter and screams fill the silence between us as we both measure each other.
"Well? Move it along. Didn't I say I have plans?"
I narrow my eyes at her but continue.
"I want you to consult for a project we're working on.
It's tech based on an AI model we've been developing, that studies the actor while they're rehearsing and doing their scenes, and then extrapolates in real time—refines the take without the actor or stunt double having to actually put themselves in danger.
"It would reduce the dependence on CGI and other tech, as our project is technically an addition to the camera already present on site. It's expected to give more realistic results.
"You've spent time as an actress. It's one of the very few industries Ingram Tech has not ventured into.
"I want you to work with the design team and technical experts—use your experience as an actress to help design a device that your fellow contemporaries would insist on using, and then also consult with my in-house marketing team for the launch of this product.
"What do you think?"
"That you can get anyone for this job. You're trying to make me quit working with Legend."
"True—I am. I won't lie about that. I want you away from my family and that's a big part of it.
"But I've seen what you did with Legend's campaign. Your input in JB Tech's marketing was also clear to spot. Your unique experience gives you an edge here. You're right that I can hire any actress for the job.
"But I'm looking to hire someone who will understand the impact this product will have on the industry and then use that knowledge to launch it."
She looks surprised that I know her work.
"This is also an incredible opportunity for you, isn't it? Your reputation in the media... you know what they say about you, right?"
Her lips turn down and her face falls.
"What if you helped create a device that makes the working environment for your peers safer?
"This device doesn't have to be limited. It can even help in explicit work, crafting scenes in real-time, so the actors can rework things if required without breaking boundaries..."
I pause for effect. "I'll give you creator credits if we succeed. I'll name you the key collaborator in this project."
Her head lifts and she stares at me in disbelief. I simply smile.
It is, after all, an opportunity of a lifetime.
—----------------
The irony of this moment is not lost on me in the least. That Marcus—the reason for my downfall should also offer me my first actual opportunity for redemption makes me want to laugh.
The wind blows through, ruffling my hair, and a couple strands escape and fall against my face.
All my plans for the night are shoved to the backburner for the present as his words swirl in my mind.
Creator credits. Key Collaborator.
It would open up so many avenues.
I stare into his eyes, trying to figure out if it's a horrible prank.
"You aren't that generous," I decide.
He hates my guts. Why would he offer me such an opportunity?
"What's the catch?"
He smiles, though it doesn't quite reach his eyes.
"If we fail, I want you to leave me and my family alone. I'll accept the blame, the financial repercussions, even the professional ones. In return, you'll go away, far away."
My heart drops. It's the first time I have—friends... I don't want to risk it.
"What if I tell Legend? Or Ella about this deal? Will they appreciate it?
"And what if I refuse?"
—------------
Celeste thinks I'm bluffing—I'm not.
I've had a month to think about this. I do want her gone, but not in the way she thinks. This is her opportunity to sabotage me if she wants.
Whatever lingering grudges she might have, she can take them out on me.
If she doesn't, there isn't much chance of failing. If she does, she'll plot her own downfall along with mine.
Either way, she'll be far enough out of Legend and Ella's orbit to not cause them real harm.
"This is a legitimate offer. I have nothing to hide from them. Talk it out, discuss it with them if you like. But know this—this offer expires in twenty-four hours."
I slide my card towards her across the bench.
"Let me know."
I place the file with the contract on the bench. The hair framing her face somehow makes her eyes even more piercing. My hand twitches with the desire to tuck them behind her ear.
I jump up and leave before I do something I might regret.
Now it's just a waiting game.
—------------------
I pick up the card Marcus gave me and finger its edge as I watch him leave. The card is thick and creamy, but the design is extremely functional and simple—typical Marcus.
I bite my lip, wondering what to do.
I don't plan on consulting Legend or Ella about this job. I don't want to bring my equation with Marcus into my dynamic with them.
I just invoked their names to see if this offer was serious, and it is.
If I take this job, it will change everything—one way or another.
Question is—do I have the courage to start over again if the gamble fails?
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