Boston's Man-Eater

XLVIII

"That was one heck of a trial," Emma sighed.

"So, what now?"

"It's almost obvious that Harold wants us to get to it right now," I answered and they all dispersed. Except for Naomi.

She stood by the door and eyed me.

"So many loopholes...don't you think?"

That rung in my head.

How peculiar was the trial?

It still wasn't surprising, because I had seen people being sent off to be the sacrificial lambs for prosecutions that didn't want to bear the pain of admitting that it had all been harder than they anticipated.

But I wasn't putting Madison in the clear...not yet.

I strolled back to my office with a slight headache probing due to the excessive staring at colored pixels with minimum blinking.

With arms serving as a desk pillow, I laid my head on them and hoped to steal a ten-minute nap before diving into the most nerve-racking article I had to write at my time with the Boston Independent.

When I thought it to be the sixth minute, a knock rapped on my door and in came a wide-eyed Noah.

"You have a visitor."

"Who—"

And before the sentence was fully constructed, he dashed out.

I was positively annoyed as I didn't know when I would finally get some proper rest.

I didn't need to further guess because her name was written on the faces of my co-workers who found entertainment in my personal life's events.

What does she want?

The last time I had checked, she had been gravely upset with me over a misunderstanding before slamming her door in my face.

My feelings were painfully caught in the deafening grip.

"Good afternoon, Simon."

He nodded with twinkling eyes.

Sliding inside the cool interior of Tess' car, I immediately looked into the frigid eyes that were already staring at me.

Is she still mad at me?

"Hello, Kyle."

My head drifted from her heavenly scent.

"Good afternoon, Tess."

"I was on my way to the office when I decided to take a detour and pay you a long awaited visit."

I folded my arms expectantly.

You got that right.

"My actions were due to my ignorance and rash anger. I'm sorry," she took a deep breath, and looked at me questioningly.

I could've sworn a smile was playing at the corners of my lips even though I tried hard not to.

God, just look at her.

Her perfectly nourished legs were crossed underneath her gray dress. Hair effortlessly styled into the flow that lead to her shoulders.

Even her fuchsia lips begged for me to notice them. 

I resisted holding her and telling her that it was okay, because sometimes you just need to stand your ground. Right?

"It's okay..."

She smiled with relief.

"Thank you."

"I'm glad you came."