Chapter 29

It was dark when Charles stood up from his desk and stretched.

"I think that's a day, Elena," he said, his voice not exactly weary, but ready to be done solving problems. "That Panang beef you ordered was delicious."

"Good," I said, clearing up the last to-go boxes from his coffee table.

I checked my phone. There was still no word from Amy.

He walked around the desk and lookout out at the skyline. Lights were beginning to come on all over the city. Despite it being later in the day his foot tapped and his fingers twitched.

"Did you have time to exercise today?" I asked, suspicious that the energy that still poured from him was due to this.

"I didn't," he grumbled. "I'll be thrown off tomorrow."

"Why can't you go now?"

He turned to look at me and appeared to think about it.

"I mean, I know you just ate and all, but don't you think it would be good to get some of that energy out?"

"I supposed I could do a few miles on the treadmill," he said, thoughtfully.

"Why not get outside?" I asked. "If you were a female, I'd say running in the park at night isn't a good idea, but you're you. You can do anything you want."

He began to smile. "Want to come with me?"

"Uh, no. I don't run for fun."

"I have an idea," he said, his eyes turning mischievous.

Twenty minutes later Charles was in his running clothes and I was eyeing the bike he'd rented from the kiosk in the park.

"It's been years," I said, grateful I wore trousers that day.

"It will come back to you in a few yards." He began jogging along the lighted path that led around the park. He stopped and looked back. "Come on, Elena!"

I put a foot on the pedal and pushed off. My handlebars wobbled but I was able to keep enough balance and speed to stay up with him.

After a few minutes I couldn't help smiling. It was fun!

Charles grinned back and trotted along next to me. He relaxed, his strong body moving gracefully, firmly forward.

"Faster?" he asked.

"I'll keep up," I said, trying to sound more confident than I was. "Just don't turn!"

He smiled and went faster. I peddled harder and began to feel more confident, weaving around other walkers and benches along the path.

"It's a beautiful evening," Charles said, his breathing becoming heavier. "Not too cold, and the half-moon is out."

I ventured a glance up and saw a wedge of white between the trees. The cool breeze on my skin was refreshing and smelled sweet.

"It is beautiful," I agreed.

"You did a good job today," he said. "Thanks for getting the food."

"I hope it was okay I let Amy go. She was worried about Jessica."

He nodded, breathing more deeply. "I think it was the right move. Any news yet?"

"None," I said, a little anxious that we hadn't heard, but also relieved he agreed with my decision. I thought it was the right thing to do, but it was good to know he agreed.

"I had no idea you were such a go-getter."

"A what?" I said, smiling at his terminology.

"A go-getter. You know, someone who takes charge of a situation."

I shrugged. "I wouldn't say I was that."

He glanced at me and smiled. "You're not who I thought you were, that's for sure."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

He turned his swinging arms into a shrugging gesture.

"Feel like you can do another two miles?" he asked.

"Have we already gone that far?" The time had flown, and I was enjoying the riding. "Yes, please. Let's keep going."

He smiled and put on a small burst of speed.

"Hey!" I called, pedaling faster to catch him.

Another forty-five minutes later we returned the bike to the kiosk, both a little sweaty and breathing hard, but smiling.

The exercise had done him good. He was smiling to himself, his hands in his pockets and looking around calmly yet alert.

I, too, was feeling the warm glow of the exercise. Moving my body after sitting at a desk all day felt good. Though watching him move his body was even better, I had to admit, and the bike gave me the perfect front-row seat.

We began to walk down the block toward the office building where Charles' car was parked in the garage.

He put his nose up and sniffed, looking quickly to the right. A man with a hotdog cart was at the corner, a small line forming down the street.

"Hungry?" he asked me.

We'd just eaten two hours ago, and yet the smell of the hotdogs was delicious and my stomach rumbled in response.

"I see you are," he laughed. "Let's go."

He grabbed my hand and we darted across the street as the light warned there were only five seconds to go, panting and smiling as we got in line.

He was head and shoulders taller than most people, so leaned a little and was able to see the menu. He read it for me, telling me my choices of chilidogs and various toppings.

The vender was efficient and soon we were at the front ordering. The man looked up at Charles. "Tall enough?" he asked good naturedly and Charles smiled back.

"It's helpful when you're trying to see the menu from the back of the line."

The man guffawed and made our order, Charles with chili smothered on top and mine with ketchup and relish. I grabbed napkins while Charles paid and we walked back to the park, sitting on a bench under a glowing iron lamp.

Charles took an enormous bite and chewed happily. "You know," he said once he'd got it down. "I think that's one of the first times someone hasn't recognized me."

I nodded, enjoying my own food.

"If you were wearing your suit they would have. But you look casual right now," I said. "And you're relaxed. That's not how your image is at all."

He nodded. "Good."

After another bite and some silence, he added, "But I like being able to walk around like this too."

"I'm sure," I said. "Maybe you should try it more often."

"And that way no one takes photos of you when you're with me."

I felt my heart sink. This was feeling so nice, so comfortable, like we were enjoying each other’s company.

His comment reminded me that he was embarrassed of me, and didn't actually want to be seen in public with me.

I felt tears sting my eyes, and I looked away.

"What?" Charles had seen.

Crap, I thought, trying to blink back my emotions. I felt like I seemed weak enough to him, I didn't want to reveal anymore.

"What did I say?" he asked.

I tried to speak, but it came out as a rasp. I cleared my throat and still nothing came.

"Hey, Elena." His warm fingers were on my chin, and he pulled me gently around to face him. His eyes were intensely blue, even in the lamplight. "What is it?"

"Nothing," I shook my head. "I totally understand why you don't want to be photographed with me."

He looked thoughtful and then I saw the understanding on his face. He looked crestfallen.

"Listen, Elena, I don't want anyone in my life photographed with me. Imagine the fallout? People would be knocking on your door, chasing you down the street for an interview."

"Don't you control the media?"

"Not all of it," he smiled. "My competition certainly likes to slander me and anyone associated with me. I don't want that for you, okay?"

It made sense, and yet it wasn't an answer that made me feel better. He still didn't want to be seen with me. Wasn't that the reason for the obscure restaurant the other night and the isolated park bench this evening?

I nodded. I was being silly. I shouldn't care about it.

This was just a business deal after all. He got my scent to help him and I got to be a reporter.

And free meals. There was that as well.

I looked down at the hot dog. It still looked delicious. I took a bite and my heart lifted a little.

This wasn't so bad. I got to be nearer to him than anyone else. I'd got to feel his hands and body.

It was enough.

"Elena?"

I turned to him. He was looking at me, concerned. He leaned closer, his eyes going to my lips again.

My breathing stopped. I felt my insides tremble as he leaned closer. His lips parted slightly and began to smile.

Our phones buzzed simultaneously.

"Damn," Charles muttered as we both scrambled back and searched our pockets.

My thoughts exactly.

But my stomach sank when I saw who it was. Amy.

Amy," he said at the exact time I saw her name, his brow knitting in concern.

I clicked into the message and gasped. She was at the hospital with Jessica.