ISLA~
The room went quiet the moment I asked the question. I could tell a bomb had been dropped on Elara from the way she looked.
The taller one Whitmore got up first, breaking what ever quiet tension of wonder, worry and devastation that was building. He adjusted his suit and looked at Peter who began packing up the files on the table.
"We were just leaving" he smiled at me then to Elara he said "See you in court" she gave a light nod.
While walking out he paused by me "We've covered the law suit" he began "I'll send the documentation tonight."
"I'll be waiting" I answered.
Peter walked past us, and Whitmore lowered his voice slightly.
"More evidence will be needed for the Angela's case though, the odds of winning that one is a twenty percent, lower even." He glanced over at Elara. "She doesn't need to be innocent, the label just needs this buried"
"I'm working on it" I said. He walked away and the door click shut. Then it was just us.
"You were gone for two days" she broke the silence immediately.
"I was working" I replied.
Her eyes dropped to my bandaged wrist then drifted to my plastered forehead. "That doesn't look like work"
I let out a small, dry laugh "Work gets messy at times, you'd be surprised"
She moved closer and suddenly my two days resolve felt like a joke.
And her eyes, they held emotions I couldn't quite fathom. Worry? Care?. What ever it was I needed her to kill it. Now.
What is wrong with me? Just that pool incident, just that little closeness and my brain was on a freaking loop.
That's just messed up Isla. Damn messed up.
Either way I was cooked considering I had to stay a night here. Pure mental chaos. I took an obvious step back from her.
"And the box?" she asked gesturing to my luggage.
"I am, staying the night" I answered, the annoyance starting to prick at my skin. I didn't have the energy for a question and answer session.
My phone buzzed in my hand and I checked the caller. It was Richard, perfect timing.
"Excuse me a second"
I turned toward the door but her voice stopped me. "Why are you treating me this way?" she asked.
I faced her again, genuinely confused. "What way?"
"Like… I'm something you can't stand. Like I'm something you hate."
I almost laughed. "Is that what you think?"
"You're rude. You disappear. You don't listen..."
"That's not hate," I cut in. "I'm not your friend, but your manager. Wait" I chuckled "Just hold on a second." I scoffed, the irony of the situation hitting me. "Is that your definition of hate? Don't expect me to worship the ground you walk on just because you're popular."
"You disappeared for two days! with nothing but mirrors to talk to and you come back looking like you battled the devil without any explanation!"
"I'm not here to entertain you," I snapped "I'm here to make sure you don't lose everything and If that feels like neglect, then you're focusing on the wrong thing."
"Don't talk to me like that. I asked because I care"
"Care? About me?..." I limped toward the coffee table and snatched up the remote. "Don't do that. Don't waste your energy." I clicked the TV on.
"You know, you don't have to be a bitch all the time."
I let out a long, weary sigh. I looked at her, then tossed the remote onto the sofa. "You want to know why I'm hurt? Watch the news."
I walked out before she could respond, heading for the car to call Richard back. I needed to lash out where she couldn't hear me.
"I heard you clocked out of the hospital. Where are you?" Richard asked the moment he picked up. The audacity in his voice was grating.
"What the fuck was that?" I demanded "We did agree we'd stage an act, create a new light to the whole case and what? I was jumped on"
"You make it sound bad"
"Sound bad?" I lowered my voive, although the rage I felt was at full peak.
"Did you not see the clips. I was one step away from a battered eye. Of all things to throw, they chose GLASS!. It was a goddamn riot."
"You knew the risk," he replied, unfazed. "We needed the distraction."
"I didn't agree to be cornered"
"Did it trend? It did. Work done" I leaned back into the driver's seat and closed my eyes.
It may have been my idea but... I caught sight of my reflection on the rare view mirror. My gorgeous battered face. This wasn't me.
"From: POP ICON LINKED TO DEATH, To: MANAGER ATTACKED AMID SCANDAL" He chuckled, and it was the least funny thing I'd heard all year. "Looking at it you're a freaking blessing in disguise. Keep up the good work and in three months tops, you'll be back in your villa, chilling."
"Goodnight" I said, my finger hovering over the end button.
"You know sympathy is a currency and we bought some." he added "You did good Isla and sorry about the injuries"
"Yeah" I ended the call and just sat there.
Two days away was supposed to clear my head. Instead, I orchestrated chaos. For her. I bled for her.
I got out of the car and leaned against the frame, catching sight of Sandre, the quiet guard, smoking by the shed. Vaping wasn't cutting it anymore. I dragged myself over to him.
"Good evening, ma'am," he greeted.
"There's nothing good about this evening and don't call me that. I'm not that old. You still have those on you?"
"I don't think ma'am implies that a person is..." He noticed my glare and kept shut. "Here." He handed me the pack.
I took one, and he struck a light. I took a long, deep drag, feeling the nicotine hit my system like a wave of bliss.
"This is it," I muttered, exhaling a cloud of smoke into the night air.
Finally, a moment of silence.