It’s not funny.
“It’s pretty funny, actually,” he said. “I mean,Jesus, Vivienne. Pissing off some hack journalist is theleastunethical thing I’ve done today.”
Her breath caught as though he’d struck her. Pink flushed into her cheeks. He felt the heat of it reflected in his own face, and he immediately regretted saying anything at all. He braced himself and waited for her to hit him back. To make it hurt.
She didn’t. She shut her eyes and sagged against the wall, the fight going out of her. Dwarfed by the scalloped leaves of a houseplant, she looked small and diminished, her features whittled in shadow. He felt suddenly terrible for picking a fight.
“Vivienne,” he pleaded. “I’m sorry, okay?”
She didn’t open her eyes.
“You’re right—I shouldn’t have stepped in like that.”
Her only response was to draw a single, unsteady breath.
He bent his head toward hers. “Will youpleaselook at me?”
A drunken couple stumbled past, rain soaked and whispering, clinging one to the other in a clumsy tangle. He held himself still as they turned the corner, listening as a door clicked shut somewhere out of sight. The moment they were gone, he drew in nearer. So close, he could see the errant flutter of her pulse in the triangle of her throat.
“I won’t say anything else,” he promised. “I’ll keep my mouth shut, if that’s what it takes. I just—I don’t want you in there without me.”
Her eyes flew open.You’re making yourself look guilty.
“Guilty? Guilty of what? What happened to Donahue is horrible, but it was an accident. You know that, Vivienne, you were there. Let him run his story. You think anyone’s going to believe that nutcase? He’s one bad hoax away from writing a tell-all about Bigfoot.”
He’d meant to make her laugh. Instead, she averted her gaze, blinking away tears.
“Hey.” He chucked her gently under the chin. “Let me take you home.”
She shook her head, swiping at a tear just before it could fall.
“No one has to know,” he added. “We can slip out the back. There’s a megalodon movie on tonight.Supremecamp. Really awful acting. If we hurry, I bet we can catch the end.”
The door to the library creaked ajar and Shaw poked his head out. “There you two are. And looking very cozy, I might add. Are we just about done?”
“We need another minute, actually,” said Thomas, but Vivienne was already slipping out from beneath him, heading for the open door. “Wait, you—Vivienne.”
Unthinking, he caught her by the hand. Her skin was ice-cold; her fingers trembled. She tugged herself free, leveling him with a look.
Stay, she signed.I don’t want you to see what comes next.
“What do you mean, you—” The door fell shut in his face. “Great. That’s great.”
For several seconds afterward, he stood outside the library and debated his options. He could go in after her—it’s what Philip expected of him. He could wait outside, try to honor her request. He could quit and go back home. Leave on his own terms, before Philip and Amelia got wind of just how badly he’d screwed everything up and fired him themselves.
None of his choices felt like the right one.
He fell instead to pacing, sweating through his dress shirt. One minute turned into two. Two to three. Then four. Then five. On the other side of the door, there came a series of dull thuds as several heavy somethings went toppling to the ground.
“Fuck it.”
He wrenched open the doors and charged into the library. Vivienne was nowhere to be seen. Neither was Shaw. The astrolabe lay on its side on the floor, its gleaming spheres mirrored in a wide puddle of black. Unease threaded through him.
“Vivienne?”
His voice cast out into darkness. He edged deeper into the room, taking careful stock of his surroundings. The library extended well beyond the first set of shelves, its wide wooden columns disappearing into shadow. His misgivings deepened.
“Vivienne,” he called again. “Make some noise if you hear me.”
