Ripple Effect

Chapter Fifty-Six: ..the elephant in the room.

Stevie

1:13 PM

Stevie cast a quick glance around the office—just to check. With Adele still on her lunch break, the larger of the two desks was left unoccupied, and the silence that drifted through from the main office confirmed that Russell hadn't yet returned. Stevie leant down, one eye on the corridor outside as staffers strode past in a flash of paperwork and suits, and she fumbled through her handbag until her fingertips found the cold brush of the metal that cased her cell phone.

She stooped forward in her seat and clicked the screen on. The backlight flared.

No messages. No missed calls.

The barest twinge of disappointment, like a guitar string scuffed by the edge of a thumb, thrummed through her. Jon would be busy—no doubt on another ward round—but talking with him was fun, flirting with him was fun, not having people constantly asking her 'How's your mother doing?' was fun; being around him made her feel important and interesting for a change, not like someone valued only as her mother's daughter, and it gave her a welcome break from the stifling silence of home.

And, for a while, it hushed the feeling that, in truth, nothing about the situation was fun at all.

"Hello, Stevie."

Stevie jolted upright and spun towards the door.

Teresa Hurst stood in the doorway, one palm rested against the wooden frame, whilst the fingers of the opposite hand touched the string of pearls that hung around her throat; a gesture that directed the eye to the pearls' subtle opulence but hid in the guise of a nervous habit.

Stevie forced a smile so wide that it felt as though her lips might crack. "Madam Vice President—" She slid her cell phone beneath a piece of paper that draped over the edge of the binder on the desk. "How can I help you?"

"Is Russell in?"

Stevie's gaze drifted towards the door to Russell's office, and then back to Hurst. "I think he's in a meeting with the president right now."

"Well, will he be available soon?"

"I'm not sure." Stevie bit her lower lip. "Is it urgent?"

"No." Hurst offered her a smile; perhaps it was meant to be sweet, but instead it held the acidic sting of a Sour Patch Kid. "It was just about campaign donors, that's all."

"Right." Of course it was. Stevie snatched a file towards her from the front edge of her desk, and then let her gaze flick up to Hurst. The corners of her lips tugged into a flatline of a smile. "Well, I'll let him know that you stopped by." With a curt nod, she added, "Madam Vice President."

She prised back the cover of the folder, and dragged one fingertip along the jumbled stream of letters that must have formed words, whilst in the upper edge of her vision, the blue-suited shadow of Teresa Hurst continued to lurk. Beneath the desk, Stevie's foot jittered against the floor whilst she willed Hurst to turn and walk away. She didn't know what was worse: Morejon digging for dirt and calling her mom an alcoholic, or Hurst picking over the bones of her mother's career as she scavenged for campaign donors.

"How's your mother doing?" Hurst asked.

Stevie turned the page with a crisp swish. "Fine."

"We haven't seen her around here in a while."

Stevie rolled her eyes. "Well, she is on leave, so..."

A slight pause. "And when do you think she'll be back?"