make fun of me.”
“They thought you were beautiful.”
“They made me feel crass.”
“I’m listening,” he said. “You felt crass.”
“Right. Like I’d just shared something with the world that I only ever want to share with you.”
“You felt exposed.”
“Betrayed. I wanted to step out of my comfort zone, but I guess this was a step too far.”
“I see.” He paused, and she felt the familiar tug on her heart. I want to hear what he has to say. I always do. I love how he discovers things by talking them through. I’ll miss that.
But this silence dragged, and she realized he had nothing to say. She’d been clear, and cogent, and, for once, irrefutable.
“Sorry, El, I don’t think you can talk your way out of this one.”
He groaned. “Will you see me today, tonight? After work?”
“Maybe in a couple days.”
“OK. Ah, one more thing.” He stopped. “You coded right through the morning?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
“But I saw the paper.”
He made a choking sound. “Switch, Em. Two clicks.”
She punched up her phone’s security app and clicked two clicks across the bandwidth, cutting the call in case anyone else was listening. “I’m here,” she said.
“You know she had worse they could have printed. She was after me, not you.”
“How?”
“Drone camera. You know, the project I helped fund two years ago.”
“Serves you right.”
“Doesn’t it just. But in all those hundreds of frames, all those angles, she didn’t recognize you. Nobody did.”
Emily went silent. It wasn’t his fault he was a little bit kinkier than her. It wasn’t his fault that she could be timid and fly to the worst conclusion and enact a final solution.
And it wasn’t his fault when an experiment went bad. Or partly bad.
And man, hadn’t most of it been fantastic?
Had she overreacted? Run when she should have stayed and talked? She needed to get some space, but Elliot did deserve some sort of explanation. He didn’t deserve an email with one line.
“I’m sorry.”
“What is it, really, my love?”
She went silent again. She couldn’t say. She could hear his shallow breaths. He wasn’t going to hang up. He’d wait her out.
She screwed up her courage. “I liked it,” she said in a whisper.
“You liked it.” His voice was just as soft.
“More than I should.”
“You’re surprised at yourself.”
“Disgusted.” She frowned as she said the word.
“Really?”
“No” came out without her permission. But it was the right word.
Now Elliot paused. Emily sank to the floor, her hand leaving a trail on the newly cleaned window. She’d liked it. She’d like to do it again. Was there any way, in this day and age, they could do it again?
Elliot cleared his throat. “I think I did see the camera’s flash. Like shooting stars. But it’s always like that with you.”
She closed her eyes. “It’s always like that with you, too.”
“Meet me after work?”
She opened her eyes. “I have to think about things. Maybe tomorrow.”
“Maybe tomorrow then.” He paused. “Love.” That was how he always signed off.
She held her breath until she heard the empty void of the connection dropping.
“Love,” she said.
****
Emily struggled with the code for yet another mobile interface for the rest of the afternoon, but her conscience didn’t let her loose. At five she was beat, the specs dancing in her head around the molten pools of emotion bubbling about her heart. Outside, the car traffic was starting to bunch up, the beginning of the commuter crawl. Funny how the slower the cars were moving the louder it sounded, even through closed windows.
But there was more shouting than usual. A gaggle gathered at the front of the office, looking out over
Market Street
. “What’s up?” Josh called out, following the trail to the windows. Suddenly nearly the whole company was at the windows.
“Boss,” Josh shouted to her across the room, “You have got to see