Page 119 of The Chase
Wilder took a step closer. “Do you want to talk about your elevator phobia?”
“No, not really.”
“Something happened to you?”He looked at me with compassion. “Zara, I’m here for you,” Tobias’s voice sounded distant. “I can’t believe you really thought I’d do that to you.”
“I overheard you, Tobias, when you said, ‘I will end this. It will be swift and sure. It will happen. And it will be...kind.’”
He blinked his confusion. “I was talking to Logan. That was my way of reining her in.”
Staring down at my hands, I saw they were still shaking.
All that had gone before had thrown me off center. My past had ruined me in the worst kind of way, burned through my ability to trust or ever love again.
“You need to let the adrenaline wear off.” He made his way over to his desk and pushed a button on his phone. “Hot tea for Ms. Leighton, please. Soon as you can.”
“Right away, sir,” came the reply.
“Now, let’s get you—” he waved his hand at my hair “—tidied up so you can meet with Magnus Needham. He’s the head curator at the National Gallery.”
Oh God, I knew Magnus. Though he’d lost more hair since I’d last seen him. “NG?” I whispered.
“That’s the one.”
“Why didn’t you say goodbye?”
“When?”
“You walked out of the bathroom and didn’t wait to say goodbye?”
“When you were showering?”
“Yes.”
“That was my goodbye. I took your words seriously.”
“What words?”
“Minutes before, you made some big speech in the kitchen about freedom. About art, like love, not being defined. You mentioned something about hating the idea of it being ‘controlled. Owned. One needs freedom to become fully realized.’”
My words came back to haunt me like a bad dream.
“I distinctly remember you saying you wanted your freedom.” Tobias gave a nod to seal the memory. “The look of finality you gave me while you were in the shower proved it.”
“What look?”
“This look.” He mimicked an expression of stubbornness and of pure resignation, with a dash of indignation thrown in.
“I didn’t give that look.”
“You did.”
“Well, you gave me a look of affection. Of you wanting to take us to the next level.” I mimicked it to make sure he got my point. “Like this.” My expression turned wistful.
“That was sadness. Because you didn’t want to continue with us.”
“That wasn’t sadness.” I pointed at him. “I can read faces.”
“You put your hand on the glass.”
