Page 82 of Unfaithful

“I’ll try, why? What’s going on?”

I don’t reply, I have to think this through. “And his interview is at two, you said?”

“That’s right.”

“Can you go to him at say, quarter to two, and tell him they’ve asked to postpone it by thirty minutes? Tell him the other candidates are taking longer than expected, something like that.”

She chuckles. “He won’t like that.”

“Good. Even better.”

“And if he’s not in his office at quarter to two?”

I sigh. “I don’t know. I’ll think of something else.”

I tell her of my plan. She listens, one eyebrow raised. When I finish, she grins. “Genius. I love it. You think it will work?”

“No idea, but it’s all I have right now.”

I spend the rest of the morning distracted, but I feel good. Better, at any rate. It’s what I need, this feeling of doing something. Of taking control, of being in charge of my own destiny.

As June predicted, at twelve twenty-five, Geoff exits his office, shrugging his jacket on, and locks his door. June pretends to do the same. She pops into my office with her coat on and her handbag looped over her shoulder. She removes both as soon as she enters.

I call Steve, my new best friend. Steve, who looked so despondent the day of my Forrester lecture when I wouldn’t let him fix the connection. I wrote an email the following day to his boss explaining that I’d decided at the last minute not to use slides, and I apologized for putting Steve in that position. He called me to thank me. It’s the little things.

“Coast is clear,” I say.

“Roger that,” he replies, which makes me chuckle.

I don’t see the next part, but I know that June will unlock the office and let Steve inside, ostensibly to do something about phone line repair, should anyone ask. He works in the audiovisual department, but I don’t think Geoff would know any different if he happened to return.

Thirty-Six

At one fifteen, June texts me to say Geoff has returned from lunch. At a quarter to two, I stand in the corridor outside his office. June is inside explaining that there’s been a delay, and the panel has requested Geoff attend at two thirty instead.

My heart is thumping in my ears while I wait, chewing on a fingernail. Finally, June walks out.

“Hi, Anna!” she says, sounding convincingly surprised to see me there.

“Is he in?” I ask.

“Yes, you’re in luck. Go on in,” she replies.

I almost laugh at how ridiculous we sound. As we pass each other she whispers, “Good luck.”

“What are you doing here?” Geoff snaps without looking up, as I close the door. “I hope—”

I raise a hand. “Save it,” I say. I know he was about to bring up the Pentti-Stone notebooks, and I don’t want him to.

“Something strange happened. I thought you might be able to shed some light on it. I called Janette from HR.”

He looks up then. “Did you? And?”

“There’s no sexual harassment complaint against me. There never was.”

He leans back against his chair. “There isn’t? Well, fancy that.”

“You made up the whole thing!”