Boston's Man-Eater

XIII

Sitting on my couch, I felt the stress enclose on me, suffocating me. I slowly blinked and sipped my coffee, knowing very well that I had little control of the situation.

How nonchalant I looked, but not quite so internally. She probably wasn't trying to be difficult, and then there was the serial killer too.

Maybe I should show up at her office?

Worst case scenario would be chasing me out of the building...

I fell into my daily routine for work preparations, and drove away as I thought about what I'd say.

In as much as I wanted to apologize profusely; I didn't feel sorry about inquiring the reasons behind her bruises.

Here I was—the Boston Independent headquarters. I stepped out of the car and locked my doors, hoping people weren't going to prolong their weird behavior towards me.

I didn't like attention, but lately, it seemed to be loving me...courtesy of Her Majesty.

As I walked through the entrance, I noticed people were in fact acting stranger than they were before.

What is it this time?

Whenever my gaze locked with every one of theirs, they'd immediately avert their attention. Even Caroline wasn't wearing her flirty smile.

Wow.

The air of tension on my floor was unbreathable, and my anxiety whispered possible answers.

Is it my outfit?

Nobody willed to enlighten me on the pending situation, because they kept their distance. So, all I had was the impartial comfort of a suicide silence, and sounds of computers settling over it.

What is going on?

I turned away, fighting a desire to demand answers and strike their judgemental eyes.

"Kyle," Naomi walked over with a few newspapers and a magazine.

She grabbed a chair as I looked at her quizzically, sitting at my right before slamming the copies onto my desk.

"Open page 12," she ordered.

"Why?"

"Kyle."

I hesitantly picked up the paper and flipped over to the page, my heart collapsing from the article that read;

Meet Tess' New Mysterious Boyfriend.

It even had a picture of us walking out of the Salander House to have our lunch.

"I..."

I struggled to recover from the initial shock and bubbling annoyance.

"If you think that's worse then read the next one—page 17."

I hastily fingered through to the respective article. It was us walking out of the mall the previous afternoon.

Apparently, Tess and her new mysterious boyfriend were visiting one of the Private Affair stores.

What have I done?

"Magazine," she purposely folded arms,"Page 45."

This was what took the cake—

Fashion Mogul, Tess Salander caught up in cheating scandal!

But this isn't true, none of it is.