Page 47 of The Awful Truth

He shook his head and told himself to get it over with. He blew out a puff of air. Come on, man up. He gagged again. Twice.

“What are you nervous about?” Winslow asked, narrowing his eyes.

His body erupted once more, his tongue exiting his mouth as he did it again.

“Now you’re scaring me.”

“I’m sorry. One second.” He took a deep breath, then let the words come spilling out before his gag reflex could stop them. “I have to tell you something, and I’m terrified that things will never be the same once I say it.”

THE DAY AFTER THE INCIDENT

“The most valuable commodity I know of is information.” ~ Gordon Gekko, Wall Street

11:01 A.M. — THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 13

PETRA

Petra waited until eleven a.m. to take her coffee break, sliding her secret phone into the pocket of her black dress slacks. She hurried out of the building, then stood in the courtyard where the smokers took their breaks, so she could check for any missed calls or messages. Nothing.

She typed a quick text to Luka:

So far, I’ve only managed to get a glimpse of a preliminary coroner’s report. It showed the cause of death as pending, which isn’t very helpful, I know. The Director is being super secretive. Keeping his door closed all morning.

She waited in the hot autumn air for ten minutes for an answer from him, but nothing came in. Finally, she went back inside, her skin hot and sweaty, which caused her to feel irrationally annoyed with Luka. She had expected it to be a two-way street. She had promised to make herself available at all times, and she thought he’d be doing the same. Apparently not.

But by the time she got to her desk, she was already starting to feel a little sheepish at her internal reaction. He was probably interviewing a witness or befriending a cop who would help him out. God, what if the cop was a pretty young woman?

The Director was at his desk, but his door was open now. Good. That would make things easier for her.

As soon as she sat down, her office phone rang, startling her. The words U.S. Embassy appeared on the screen.

Petra put on her most professional voice as she answered the phone, but she barely got through saying it was the Director of Policing’s office when a man on the other end of the line cut her off. “Put me through to The Director.”

“I’ll see if he’s available. May I ask who’s calling?”

“No, you may not. Get him now.”

Rude! Very rude. Petra was not about to reward that type of behavior. “The Director is a very busy man. I can’t put just anyone through to him.”

The Director appeared in the doorway, his normally passive expression replaced by irritation. “Is it the US Embassy?”

She nodded, her face heating up under her cold skin.

“Put the call through.”

THE DAY BEFORE THE INCIDENT

“Sooner or later we have all to pay for what we do.” ~ Oscar Wilde

11:12 A.M. — TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 11

CHARLOTTE

Charlotte turned onto her stomach on the lounge chair and took another photo, this one with lots of cleavage. She was wearing her turquoise string bikini and her hair was pulled up on top of her head in a messy bun. Having finished answering all of her emails, she’d earned a break, so she made her way to the pool. Most of the pictures would end up on Instagram, but that last one was just for Ted.

Turning the camera, she took a quick video of the open ocean, making sure to get lots of yacht in it. Smiling to herself, she finally laid her head down, feeling the heat from the sun soaking into her pores. When she first woke that morning, Charlotte waited for that familiar knot to form in her stomach, like it had every day since the affair started. But it didn’t. Instead, a sense of calm settled over her. Last night was one giant leap for their relationship. They had committed to each other, and she knew it was in part due to Oliver’s attention toward her.

The words in his note popped back into her mind: Charlotte, I can’t stop thinking about you. I wish things had turned out better after we went out, and I’m open to showing you how I really feel, if you’ll give me the chance. But if not, I want you to know you’re very special. He doesn’t deserve you and what he’s doing to you is wrong. O