Counterpoints (Counterpoints #1) Read online

  She tensed, her body rigid and detached from his friendly embrace. He sensed her awkwardness, but surely assumed it was because of Hillary’s presence and their secret affair.

  “How have you been?” he asked.

  Isabella knew what he was implying, with that expression he had on his face. He had tried to contact her over the past twenty-four hours but she hadn’t answered nor called him back. She eyed Hillary, who was now talking to Noah and making her way inside.

  Isabella and Christopher followed, leaving some space between them and the other two, so they wouldn’t hear in their conversation.

  “I was busy” she said simply, not wanting to address the issue in that time.

  Isabella had gotten out of bed that day, telling herself to leave all the personal stuff out of it. It was time to go to work, there was no room for personal dramas. If only she had adopted this philosophy from the beginning, she wouldn’t have found herself in deep trouble like now.

  She took a deep breath, feeling like there was no air left in the building, his presence was oppressing her.

  “I wanted to check on you, see how your flight was” he smiled a little.

  They walked through the foyer of the eighteenth century building, making their way to the far back, their shoulders brushing against marble statues.

  He wanted to check on me. Or maybe check I hadn’t read the magazine! she thought but couldn’t open her mouth to speak. Her stomach was sick, it took all her energy and concentration not to give in to the nausea.

  Christopher looked at her then and stopped just before they entered the big room, where the event was about to take place, sensing something weird was going on. Isabella had never been so distant, so silent and tense.

  “Are you okay?”

  She didn’t say anything but tried to hold his stare, his intense stare. She couldn’t say a single word, too scared her eyes would give her away and start crying.

  They called his name, before they could say anything else to each other and he was off, a bitter taste in his mouth, a strange feeling on his skin, like the entire room was about to fall on him. Or at least that was what Isabella wished would happen.

  Isabella was able to ignore him and his questions for the rest of the evening. During interviews they had little time to talk and it was about work, only about work.

  The public clapped and cheered, as Noah and Christopher did a little race on hybrid mini cars. They had used a huge space on the ground floor of the establishment, which had once been a fish market by the river Thames.

  The place had been set resembling a small race track and the drivers had been given these one seat cars powered with electric energy. Noah got to the finish line first, they shook hands, high fived and then they had a brief interview with the speaker of the event – during which the two drivers joked about their little performance and about the championship. Then, they reminded everyone why they were there- for charity- and invited all those present to give a generous donation to the association.

  All the time, Hillary and Isabella had stood there, recording the audio of the event and taking a few pictures to post online. Christopher had looked her way a few times, but Isabella had pointedly avoided his stare, pretending to be busy and important. Until they were left alone a few minutes between an interview and another.

  “Okay, what’s wrong?” he asked, his voice calm as usual.

  “I don’t think this is the right moment…” she began to say, her voice low but Christopher cut her answer immediately.

  “Tell me what’s up, Isabella”

  She looked into his eyes, waiting for him to read the message in her glare, but Christopher didn’t even flinch.

  “I think you know already” she looked down, feeling the anger build up in her veins.

  “No, I don’t” Christopher said, his voice calm as usual, waiting for Isabella to explain.

  “Fine” she sat straight on the chair and took out something from her bag. “This is what’s wrong”

  “This trash…”

  “You are trash” she snapped but kept her voice low, the anger was now tangible in her voice.

  She opened the page where Christopher and Giselle were kissing and added “Exhibit A” Isabella kept her voice low and steady as much as possible, but inside she felt a fire burning in her stomach. It wasn’t anger, it was disappointment.

  Christopher’s eyes went wide. He put a hand through his hair and murmured “Shit”

  Yeah, you are that too, a part of Isabella wanted to snap back, but just couldn’t.

  She closed the magazine -the pictures still hurt to look at- and turned the other way, fighting the tears that were forming in her eyes.

  “Isabella…”

  “I don’t want to hear it”

  The next journalist walked inside the room then and Isabella managed a smile, the same empty, circumstantial smile she had offered everyone that night. Everyone including Christopher.

  She composed herself, putting her tablet over the magazine and welcomed him to take a seat.

  “Excuse me, can we have a minute? I’ll be right with you” Christopher said to the reporter, who backed away confused and exited the room.

  “I don’t want to talk Christopher. Let’s get on with work”

  “Just listen”

  “I don’t want to” she held his stare then and, for the first time that evening, really looked into his eyes. The tears were still there but Isabella mentally screamed at herself, to let not even a single drop roll down her cheek. He wasn’t worth it, after all, even though she had truly thought he was. “It’s over” her voice was shaky.

  She took her eyes off him and looked at the door. “Tell the journalist to come back in”

  “No”

  “What do you mean no?”

  “She kissed me. I…”

  “It doesn’t matter” Isabella shook her head and touched her temple. It was getting harder and harder to keep her emotions aside.

  “Yes it does” Christopher was about to say something, but Isabella stopped him.

  “Listen, It’s not your fault. It’s mine, okay. I knew this was going to happen, I knew it. This is what you are like, what you drivers are like. I was an idiot, okay. Let’s just pretend nothing happened” her voice broke then and she covered her mouth and closed her eyes. Stop it, get it together, don’t cry.

  “I am sorry, I didn’t want to hurt you…”

  “This conversation is over, just like we are” Isabella stood up, holding onto her tablet and notes. She squeezed them hard against her chest, trying to focus on the grip instead of her feelings. Christopher stood up and took her hand. She looked at them, their hands entwined and thought of how good it had made her feel to be lost in his arms, how good he had made her feel, over the past three months they had been secretly seeing each other.

  Even then, in that painful moment, his touch had sent shivers down her spine and that feeling in her stomach- the longing- was still there.

  “Isabella..”

  “We are done here” she took her hand back and faced him.

  Christopher couldn’t look at her, her eyes weren’t shining, her face was dark. She wasn’t smiling. “From this moment, I am Hillary’s assistant press agent. That’s it. Nothing more, like I should have kept it from the beginning. I trust you to be professional, like I am so desperately trying to” she paused “I’m going to call the journalist back in, this is the last interview for today” she walked across the room and out of the door, never looking back, promising herself she would do her best to never look back on her and Christopher.

  End of book 1

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