Perfect Target

Chapter 5 - Lost My Sense

I kept quiet.

"Tell me. You seem to have an answer for everything afterall, right?" he taunted.

I could feel my throat tighten. It wasn't his words, but my own thoughts that were troubling me. A part of me knew that everything he was saying was correct. Maybe I wasn't good at anything. Maybe that's why I became a con girl. That's all I knew. That's all I was.

An uneasy feeling surged up my chest as a troubled thought crossed my mind.

Was I so broken that my own dreams scared me? Is that why I gave up on them so easily?

I shook my head, biting my inner cheek hard. No. I chose this for myself. And I loved it. I didn't want to be good at anything except for conning. Any other dream I had had should simply remain past.

"Ms Stone?" he asked, almost sounding concerned. It felt like I had lost my voice for a second. I tried to reply, but I couldn't. "Scarlett? Are you okay?"

My eyes snapped to his. "I—" I blinked rapidly, suddenly realising how I must be looking like a psychopath to him that time. "I'm fine. I mean, I get your point. You don't have to do this again." I referred to his sarcastic comment earlier, pretending as if I hadn't been panicking just moments ago.

"I'm being genuine here, Scarlett. You seemed... lost there for a moment." his voice held sincerity.

"I said I'm fine."  I gritted my teeth. I didn't want his concern. And I sure as hell didn't need his pity. It made me feel weak, like I needed someone to depend upon. I had made myself a stranger to that feeling years ago.

"I'm sorry for not sending you the mail on time. And for being late for work today. And my—my comment earlier... on the phone."

He observed me for a moment as though trying to read me. He was only wasting his time. I cleared my throat. "Can I leave now?

He narrowed his eyes at me. "Not so soon."

As if on cue, his phone started ringing on his desk. Evan glanced at his phone, before landing his eyes back on me. Despite the internal battle I was having, I couldn't help a smug smile from forming on my face. His expression hardened when he noticed it.

"Don't look so happy. We aren't done here. You can go now, but we'll definitely discuss your poor performance later."

I lingered outside his door for a moment, trying to eavesdrop into his conversation. I couldn't help it. I needed to know as much about him as possible, as soon as I could.

I wanted something—anything. I needed any bits and pieces I could get, from anywhere, anyone.

Because something told me it wasn't that easy to read Evan Carter either.

+++

"Scarlett." a voice called, making me look up from the files in my hand. "Have you assembled the reports I asked for?"

"Yes, I was just going to bring them to you."

Lucas nodded absent-mindedly, playing with the cuff of his shirt. It wasn't hard to notice that he didn't seem one bit interested in the reports. "I understand that Mr Carter has asked for your assistance from our department. I really do believe that you're responsible enough to handle this well."

I almost scoffed at his words. Almost. If only he knew...

I offered him a smile. "Thank you for trusting me." Even though you shouldn't.

"Do you know him from before?" he suddenly asked, his eyes snapping to mine. I raised my eyebrows at him, slightly taken aback by his question.

"I mean, you danced with Mr Carter at the fundraiser." he ran a hand through his hair. "So uh, I was just wondering."

"I talked to him before in the office once." I kept it short, conveniently leaving out our first meeting in the bar. I didn't need anyone getting suspicious or like in Lucas' case, possibly jealous. The lesser people I involved, the better it would be. Lucas could perhaps be useful for me in the future, but he wasn't my target. Something told me he wouldn't be a tough one either.

"Oh, okay. I was just curious." he cleared his throat.

"It was very brief." I shrugged nonchalantly.

He nodded his head, then gave me a small, friendly smile. "Do you want to get a cup of coffee before continuing?"

My mind drifted towards Evan's sarcastic comment earlier today in his office. Then to the first time we had a civil, well, semi civil conversation between us when he saw me drinking from the coffee dispenser. I wondered if his call was over or if he was yelling on the phone, like the time in the bar.

"Sure." I choked out. I need to stop thinking about him.

My body was in  desperate need of coffee.

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