Turning to Stone (Heart of Stone: Book 2)

Chapter 16: History

Chapter 16: History

By the time Monday rolled around, the dark cloud of doom hanging over my head had lifted somewhat. Ed's flirting in the lift had reassured me that nothing had changed, and the more I replayed his behaviour that night, the more my mind refocused on the physical rather than the emotional.

"Morning, Sophia. How was your weekend?" Zola already had her laptop open and half a page of notes written when I entered the office.

I took a quick glance at the time on my phone. "Good, thanks. How was yours?"

"Same old. Did you get up to anything fun?"

"I went to Escala with some friends. Hattie Steele was there and did a great performance. It was really fun."

Sitting down in my chair, I flicked open my notebook to the next fresh page and then rooted around in my bag for a pen.

"Did Teddy join you at Escala? I know it's a favourite haunt of his."

I nodded. "Yeah, he was there."

Aha. I spotted the pen tucked into a side pocket and plucked it out. My inbox privileges had not yet been restored, but I hoped my press release attempt would go some way in speeding that along.

"Did you spend much time together?" Zola then asked, and something almost undetectable in her voice changed.

My stomach cartwheeled. I knew that tone. This conversation had shifted from small talk to an interrogation, just like I'd seen her do with Ed before.

Although I wanted to take the time to consider my response, I knew I couldn't hesitate for too long without it looking like I had something to hide. And I did have something to hide, but I couldn't keep it from her—not if I wanted her trust back.

"Yes," I said. "We did. He sat with us at our table for a while, then later on we spent some time together just one-on-one."

Zola arched a brow at me. She knew. Maybe someone actually had seen us, just like Ed had thought. Were we in the inbox? Had Hattie played me? She'd talked about wanting to get ahead—was this a tactic? The theories rushed through my mind like they always did whenever we considered the authenticity of an accusation.

I cleared my throat, setting my pen down onto my notebook and lifting my eyes to meet Zola's.

"Teddy and I have history together," I said. "We briefly revisited that last night before deciding it wasn't a smart idea."

"It's a pity you didn't consider whether it was a smart idea before you revisited it."

Fair point. And I had considered it, but then my hormones had decided they didn't care. But I couldn't exactly admit that to Zola—there were certain details she didn't need to know.

"It was just a kiss," I said. "Nothing more than that. In a dark corridor outside the bathrooms. He had his back to the wall; I had my back to the corridor..."

If she had photos, I needed to reassure her that everything I was saying was true. That started with the details that could be easily corroborated via the images.

"Is this the first time it's happened since you began working here?"

"The first time it's happened in public, yes. There have been a couple of ... um ... kisses in private, too. Those happened inside the hotel, though."

Technically I hadn't kissed Ed that morning after his drunken rampage, but Zola didn't need to know the intimate details of what I had done with my mouth instead.