I had to get up before dawn Tuesday

I had to get up before dawn Tuesday morning. I left a note for Cary where he’d see it as soon as he woke up, then headed out to grab a cab back to our place. I showered, dressed, made coffee, and tried to talk myself out of feeling like something was off. I was stressed and suffering from lack of sleep, which always led to tiny bouts of depression.

I told myself that it had nothing to do with Gideon, but the knot in my stomach said differently.

Looking at the clock, I saw it was a little after eight. I’d have to leave soon, because Gideon hadn’t called or texted to say that he’d be giving me a ride. It had been almost twenty-four hours since I’d last seen him or even really talked to him. The call I’d made to him at nine the night before had been less than brief. He’d been in the middle of something and barely said hello and good-bye.

I knew he had a lot of work to do. I knew I shouldn’t resent him for having to pay for the time away with extra hours of work getting caught up. He’d done a lot to help me deal with Cary’s situation, more than anyone could’ve expected. It was up to me to deal with how I was feeling about it.

Finishing my coffee, I rinsed out my mug, then grabbed my purse and bag on the way out. My tree-lined street was quiet, but the rest of New York was wide awake, its ceaseless energy thrumming with a tangible force. Women in chic office wear and men in suits tried to hail taxis that streaked by, before settling for packed buses or the subway instead. Flower stands exploded with brilliant color, the sight of them always capable of cheering me up in the morning, as did the sight and smell of the neighborhood bakery, which was doing a brisk business at that hour.

I was a little ways down Broadway before my phone rang.

The little thrill that shot through me at the sight of Gideon’s name quickened my steps. “Hey, stranger.”

“Where the hell are you?” he snapped.

A frisson of unease dampened my excitement. “I’m on my way to work.”

“Why?” He spoke to someone offline, then, “Are you in a cab?”

“I’m walking. Jeez. Did you wake up on the wrong side of the bed or what?”

“You should have waited to be picked up.”

“I didn’t hear from you, and I didn’t want to be late after missing work yesterday.”

“You could’ve called me instead of just taking off.” His voice was low and angry.

I became angry, too. “The last time I called, you were too busy to give me more than a minute of your time.”

“I’ve got things to take care of, Eva. Give me a break.”

“Sure thing. How about now?” I hung up and dropped my phone back into my bag.

It began ringing again immediately and I ignored it, my blood simmering. When the Bentley pulled up beside me a few minutes later, I kept walking. It followed, the front passenger window sliding down.

Angus leaned over. “Miss Tramell, please.”

I paused, looking at him. “Are you alone?”

“Yes.”

With a sigh, I got in the car. My phone was still ringing nonstop, so I reached in and shut the ringer off. One block later, I heard Gideon’s voice coming through the car’s speakers.

“Do you have her?”

“Yes, sir,” Angus replied.

The line cut out.

“What the hell crawled up his ass and died?” I asked, looking at Angus in the rearview mirror.

“He’s got a lot on his mind.”

Whatever it was, it sure wasn’t me. I couldn’t believe what a jerk he was being. He’d been curt on the phone the night before, too, but not rude.

Within a few minutes after I arrived at work, Mark came up to my cubicle. “I’m sorry to hear about your roommate,” he said, setting a fresh cup of coffee on my desk. “Is he going to be all right?”

“Eventually. Cary’s tough; he’ll pull through.” I dropped my stuff in the bottom drawer of my desk and picked up the steaming mug with gratitude. “Thank you. And thanks for yesterday, too.”

His dark eyes were warm with concern. “I’m surprised you’re here today.”

“I need to work.” I managed a smile, despite feeling all twisted up and achy inside. Nothing was right in my world when things weren’t right between me and Gideon. “Catch me up on what I missed.”

* * *

 
The morning passed swiftly. I had a checklist of follow-ups waiting from the week before, and Mark had an eleven thirty deadline to turn around a request for proposal for a promotional items manufacturer. By the time we sent the RFP off, I was back in the groove and willing to just forget Gideon’s mood that morning. I wondered if he’d had another nightmare and hadn’t slept well. I decided call him when lunchtime rolled around, just in case.

And then I checked my inbox.

The Google alert I’d set up for Gideon’s name was waiting for me. I opened the e-mail hoping to get an idea of what he might be working on. The words former fiancée in some of the headlines leaped out at me. The knot I’d had in my gut earlier returned, tighter than before.

I clicked on the first link, and it took me to a gossip blog sporting pictures of Gideon and Corinne having dinner at Tableau One. They sat close together in the front window, her hand resting intimately on his forearm. He was wearing the suit he’d worn to the hospital the day before, but I checked the date anyway, desperately hoping the photos were old. They weren’t.

My palms began to sweat. I tortured myself by clicking through all the links and studying every photo I found. He was smiling in a few of them, looking remarkably content for a man whose girlfriend was at a hospital with her beaten-half-to-death best friend. I felt like throwing up. Or screaming. Or storming up to Gideon’s office and asking him what the hell was going on.

He’d blown me off when I’d called him the night before—to go to dinner with his ex.

I jumped when my desk phone rang. I picked it up and woodenly recited, “Mark Garrity’s office, Eva Tramell speaking.”

“Eva.” It was Megumi in reception, sounding as bubbly as usual. “There’s someone asking for you downstairs—Brett Kline.”

I sat there for a long minute, letting that sink into my fevered brain. I forwarded the alert digest to Gideon’s e-mail so he’d know that I knew. Then I said, “I’ll be right down.”

Hasil (Bahasa Indonesia) 1:

Aku harus bangun sebelum fajar Selasa pagi. Aku meninggalkan catatan untuk Cary mana ia akan melihat segera setelah ia terbangun, lalu menuju keluar untuk mengambil taksi kembali ke tempat kami. Aku mandi, berpakaian, membuat kopi, dan mencoba berbicara diri yang merasa seperti sesuatu adalah off. Aku stress dan penderitaan karena kurang tidur, yang selalu mengarah ke serangan kecil depresi.Aku berkata pada diriku sendiri bahwa itu tidak ada hubungannya dengan Gideon, namun simpul di perutku mengatakan berbeda.Melihat jam, aku melihat itu sedikit setelah delapan. Aku harus meninggalkan segera, karena Gideon belum menelepon atau texted mengatakan bahwa ia akan memberi saya naik. Sudah hampir dua puluh empat jam sejak saya terakhir melihatnya atau bahkan benar-benar berbicara dengannya. Panggilan saya telah membuat kepadanya di sembilan malam sebelumnya telah kurang dari singkat. Dia telah di tengah sesuatu dan nyaris tidak berkata Halo dan selamat tinggal.Aku tahu dia punya banyak pekerjaan yang harus dilakukan. Aku tahu aku tidak boleh membenci dia untuk harus membayar untuk waktu pergi dengan tambahan jam kerja yang terperangkap. Dia telah melakukan banyak untuk membantu saya berurusan dengan situasi di Cary, lebih dari siapa pun bisa harapkan. Itu tergantung saya untuk berurusan dengan bagaimana aku merasa tentang hal itu.Menyelesaikan kopi, aku dibilas keluar cangkir saya, kemudian menyambar saya dompet dan tas di jalan keluar. Pohon-pohon jalan tenang, tapi sisa New York terjaga, energi tak henti-hentinya petikan dengan gaya nyata. Perempuan dalam pakaian chic kantor dan pria dalam setelan berusaha hail taksi yang melesat, sebelum menetap untuk makan bus atau kereta bawah tanah sebagai gantinya. Bunga berdiri meledak dengan warna brilian melihat mereka selalu mampu bersorak saya atas di pagi hari, seperti mata dan bau roti lingkungan, yang melakukan bisnis yang cepat pada saat itu.Saya adalah sedikit cara bawah Broadway sebelum telepon saya berdering.Sedikit kegembiraan yang menembak melalui saya melihat nama Gideon dipercepat langkah-langkah saya. "Hei, orang asing.""Mana sih Apakah Anda?" ia tersentak.Frisson kegelisahan dibasahi kegembiraanku. "Saya berada dalam perjalanan untuk bekerja.""Kenapa?" Ia berbicara dengan seseorang secara offline, kemudian, "Apakah Anda dengan taksi?""Aku sedang berjalan. Astaga. Apakah Anda bangun di sisi yang salah tidur atau apa?""Anda harus menunggu untuk dijemput.""Aku tidak mendengar dari Anda, dan aku tidak ingin terlambat setelah hilang pekerjaan hari.""Anda bisa telah disebut saya bukan hanya mengambil off." Suaranya rendah dan marah.Saya menjadi marah, terlalu. "Terakhir kali saya menelepon, kau terlalu sibuk untuk memberi saya lebih dari satu menit dari waktu Anda.""Aku punya hal-hal untuk mengurus, Eva. Memberi saya istirahat.""Tentu saja. Bagaimana tentang sekarang?" Aku menutup telepon dan jatuh telepon saya kembali ke dalam tas saya.Mulai berdering lagi segera dan saya mengabaikan itu, darah saya mendidih. Ketika Bentley ditarik samping saya beberapa menit kemudian, aku terus berjalan. Itu diikuti, penumpang depan jendela geser ke bawah.Angus membungkuk. "Miss Tramell, silakan."Aku berhenti, memandang dia. "Apakah Anda sendiri?""Ya."Dengan desahan, aku di dalam mobil. Telepon masih berdering tanpa henti, jadi aku dicapai dalam dan mematikan deringan. Satu blok kemudian, aku mendengar suara Gideon yang datang melalui speaker mobil."Apakah Anda memiliki dia?""Ya, Pak," jawab Angus.Memotong jalur keluar."Apa sih merangkak pantatnya dan mati?" Saya bertanya, memandang Angus di kaca spion."Dia punya banyak pada pikiran."Yakin apa pun itu, bukan saya. Aku tidak percaya apa yang ia sedang brengsek. Dia telah singkat di telepon malam sebelumnya, juga, tapi tidak kasar.Dalam beberapa menit setelah saya tiba di tempat kerja, Mark datang ke bilik saya. "Aku menyesal mendengar tentang teman sekamar Anda," katanya, pengaturan secangkir segar kopi di mejaku. "Ia akan baik-baik saja?""Akhirnya. Cary's keras; ia akan menarik melalui." Aku menjatuhkan barang-barang saya di bagian bawah laci meja saya dan mengambil cangkir yang mengepul dengan rasa syukur. "Terima kasih. Dan terima kasih untuk kemarin, terlalu.Matanya yang gelap yang hangat dengan keprihatinan. "Saya terkejut kau di sini hari ini.""Saya perlu bekerja." Aku berhasil senyum, meskipun perasaan semua memutar up dan pegal di dalam. Tidak ada di dunia saya ketika hal itu tidak tepat antara aku dan Gideon. "Mengejar saya apa yang saya rindu."* * * The morning passed swiftly. I had a checklist of follow-ups waiting from the week before, and Mark had an eleven thirty deadline to turn around a request for proposal for a promotional items manufacturer. By the time we sent the RFP off, I was back in the groove and willing to just forget Gideon’s mood that morning. I wondered if he’d had another nightmare and hadn’t slept well. I decided call him when lunchtime rolled around, just in case.And then I checked my inbox.The Google alert I’d set up for Gideon’s name was waiting for me. I opened the e-mail hoping to get an idea of what he might be working on. The words former fiancée in some of the headlines leaped out at me. The knot I’d had in my gut earlier returned, tighter than before.I clicked on the first link, and it took me to a gossip blog sporting pictures of Gideon and Corinne having dinner at Tableau One. They sat close together in the front window, her hand resting intimately on his forearm. He was wearing the suit he’d worn to the hospital the day before, but I checked the date anyway, desperately hoping the photos were old. They weren’t.My palms began to sweat. I tortured myself by clicking through all the links and studying every photo I found. He was smiling in a few of them, looking remarkably content for a man whose girlfriend was at a hospital with her beaten-half-to-death best friend. I felt like throwing up. Or screaming. Or storming up to Gideon’s office and asking him what the hell was going on.He’d blown me off when I’d called him the night before—to go to dinner with his ex.I jumped when my desk phone rang. I picked it up and woodenly recited, “Mark Garrity’s office, Eva Tramell speaking.”“Eva.” It was Megumi in reception, sounding as bubbly as usual. “There’s someone asking for you downstairs—Brett Kline.”I sat there for a long minute, letting that sink into my fevered brain. I forwarded the alert digest to Gideon’s e-mail so he’d know that I knew. Then I said, “I’ll be right down.”