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“Well, I thought I should give you a heads-up that we've gotten calls from two of the other whistleblowers. One of the targets has gotten wind of the investigation and is trying to figure out who talked to us. I think you should be prepared for him to call. I know we've already discussed what you should say, but do you need to run through it again?”
Tension coiled in my gut, mingling with a bitter acid of dread. “I’m all set. I know exactly what I need to say, and I'm not going to take his call. I'll handle it.”
“Good idea. Keep me posted with any updates.”
“You do the same.”
“Fuck,” I said to myself as I lowered my phone.
I’d been hoping all this time that I would just be able to tell Jane what was going on before the tension twisted between us. Now, I was going to have to do my damnedest to keep this tension from being obvious. I managed it for the rest of the weekend, but I was distracted. I knew she sensed it. The only time I wasn't distracted was when I was making love to Jane. Thank fuck, that was one place where my escape was complete. Elemental and pure, nothing could slip into my consciousness once Jane and I were skin to skin.
But Sunday, when I took her to the train station, she looked over at me. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, fine,” I said quickly, probably a little too quickly.
Her eyes searched mine. “Okay. Would you tell me if you weren’t?”
ChapterTwenty-Three
Jane
Of course, I would.
Ian’s answer repeated in my thoughts. I didn't know how I knew, but I knew he wasn't telling me something. Something that was causing a lot of stress for him. That awareness felt like a little paper cut in my consciousness, in my trust for him, or rather, in my trust for our relationship.
Whatever was going on was creating a constant sense of tension. Every time he spoke, I could hear it in his voice. Yet every time I asked, he assured me he was fine. I didn’t mind someone keeping me out. I also respected that we all had to keep our own counsel and keep corners of ourselves entirely private.
None of it would matter, except I'd fallen in love with him. Talk about a complication I hadn't expected. Meanwhile, my parents’ house was officially on the market, and the real estate agent was bombarding my parents with questions. They'd already had several offers. If the financing came through for one of them, the place where I’d grown up would belong to another family. This shouldnotbe a big deal. Not at all.
Except visiting Haven’s Bay had brought back so many memories, and I loved my little hometown. If the house sold and things didn’t work out with Ian, I wouldn't have any excuse to visit anymore.
Dammit. Now, that felt too emotional. I spun in my desk chair to look out the windows. My office had a slice of a view of the Charles River. It was late afternoon, and people were running, walking, and biking along the path beside the river. The weather was getting nicer and summer was on the horizon.
I decided to put my worries out of my thoughts and assume things were okay. Whatever was bothering Ian probably had something to do with work and nothing to do with me. I wanted to be one of those couples walking along the river where we'd stop and get takeout and then go home together. Of course, that spun into another little paper cut of a worry. Small but stinging.
If we were going to be serious, we couldn't do this long-distance thing forever. Maybe we could, but that wasn't what I wanted. Restless, I spun back around in my chair and decided it was time to go. I saved what I'd been working on to my laptop. I'd grade the rest of the papers when I got home tonight and upload everything to the online system. Meanwhile, I'd walk myself along the Charles River and get my own takeout for dinner. That was more appealing than staying late in my office.
“There,” I said to myself after I finished grading the last midterm paper.
As I leaned back into the couch cushions, my eyes landed on the clock on my phone. It was nine o'clock at night, and I still hadn't had an evening call from Ian. This was unusual.
I flicked on the television, scanning the channels before settling on a home renovation show. I’d never owned my own house, but I liked the idea. Not that I could do my own remodeling, but I loved painting. The repetition of it was soothing for me.
I knew I could call Ian myself, but for some reason, I was holding back. When I realized I’d lifted my phone and checked the time for the third time inside of fifteen minutes, I sighed and swiped my thumb across the screen, immediately pulling up his number and calling him. Because I was being stupid.
Ian picked up on the first ring. “Hey, Jane. Sorry, I meant to call you sooner.”
He sounded tired and stressed. “Busy with work?” I prompted, my heart twinging with empathy.
“I am, but that's no excuse. How was your day?”
“Pretty good. Doing midterm grading, so that's always fun. I'm feeling ahead of the curve, though. Aside from work bogging you down, how are things?”
“It's all work for me this week.”
“Did you at least eat more than that bagel?” I teased lightly. He’d texted me a photo of the bagel he’d picked up this morning on his way to the office.
“I did, I promise.”
