Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 102560 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 513(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102560 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 513(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
“Semantics.”
She lets out a huff. “Fine. I hate it.”
That takes me by surprise. She’s been so involved and enthralled, I can’t imagine her faking that reaction.
“How is that possible? Your reaction here—”
“This place is different.”
Her answer gives me pause. “How is it different?”
“I don’t have to understand architecture to understand this place. I wasn’t lying when I told you it was spectacular. It’s like a living, breathing entity of its own. It feels like you’re fully immersed in this world. Like by breathing, the building breathes with me.”
I can’t help but stare at her because she’s a person who has admitted that this isn’t her specialty, yet she has captured the full essence of The Elysian.
“If you could work anywhere, do anything, what would you do?”
“You truly want to know?”
“I do.” I lean forward in my chair, my elbows resting on the wood table.
“I want to be an investigative journalist.”
That’s not what I expected her to say, but it makes sense. I see the way she watches. Observant in her stares.
“I think you would be great. But I also think you aren’t as ill-fitted for this style of writing as you think.”
“How do you figure?”
“The way you described The Elysian. You understand, Layla. Not many do. But you grasp it, and the description you used was perfect. I think you would excel at anything you want, but if your true passion is breaking stories, I can help you.”
“How?” Her eyes are wide. It’s the look she gives when she is in shock. Has no one ever offered to help her before? Even I had help, once.
“I have some contacts back in New York that I’d be happy to introduce you to.”
“Thank you so much. I’ll take you up on your offer. But not anytime soon.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I need to nail this article first. I can’t concentrate on anything else until I do.”
This time, it’s my turn to reach my hand out and take hers, a show of affection I’m not used to, but I find with this woman, I’m doing all kinds of things that aren’t typical for me.
“Layla. You have a gift. Not just a way with words, but you see more than is on the surface. I have no doubt that you will nail this article. And that your bosses will be clamoring to promote you. I have no doubt that whoever I introduce you to in any field will want to hire you. You’re tremendously special, Layla.”
At my words of praise, her pupils dilate, and her chest rises and falls with the heavy breaths leaving her body. She likes my words. She enjoys my praise. I watch as her back straightens and how she blooms underneath it, how she exudes confidence. I like the way she reacts to me.
And most of all, I like the way I feel about her reaction.
It’s a heady aphrodisiac.
And I want to bask in it.
12
Layla
After we are done eating, Cain leads me back to the car, and we set off to the residential home area.
We park the car in front of the model home that we didn’t enter earlier. The one he rushed away from. Too crowded, he said, but I am not sure I am buying that.
Maybe it’s the investigator in me, but I feel like he’s hedging or holding out on all or part of the story. He said nothing was bothering him, but that woman made him tense.
Who was she? And what does she mean to him?
She was extremely pretty.
There’s no taking away from that, even if there was something vacant behind her eyes. And then there is the matter of her creeping around the property in an area no one should have been in.
Crossing my arms at my chest, I cock my head to the left and look at Cain’s profile.
The lines of his jaw are set. It’s rigid, reminding me of stone. Cut marble. Almost like a sculpture of a Greek god.
It’s unnerving the lack of emotion on his face as he drives.
I wonder what he’s thinking about.
Is he thinking about the questions I might ask? Or maybe he’s thinking about the woman. A heavy feeling weighs on my chest. I hope he’s not. I hope he is thinking about me.
Do I occupy the space in his mind the same way he occupies the space in mine?
The air around us is stilted in silence. I can hear the faint hum of his breath.
I wonder who will break first.
Apparently, it’s him. A cough leaves his mouth, and he turns to me. “Are you ready to see the larger model?”
“I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.”
I wonder what’s different about this model than the other. Off the bat, I can’t tell. It does appear bigger. But I can’t be sure because of the reflective mirror on the outside, so I imagine the space goes deep instead, or maybe I could be wrong. I guess I have to go inside and see.