Eliza raised her hand, and she faulted her strong feelings for him, as part of the problem.  She shouldn’t have allowed him to continue.  She should have ended the conversation, no matter what he believed he’d heard.  There were bigger issues involved and she had to stay on top of this.

She said...

“There are some things that you know--and more that you don’t know.  The first thing that you must learn in this line of work is that, when you think that you know something, more than likely, you’re completely off base.  In this case--you heard a part of a conversation that I am not privy to repeat.  And you also must remember--Governor Andrew Wilcox is our client.  It is our job to clean up his alley--and not to judge his trash.  So, whatever you think you might know--flush it down the toilet and act as if you never heard a thing.”

There were times that she could sound like a cold hearted bitch, then in the next second she would say something to overshadow her bluntness

“Bolden...lay down.  Andrew doesn’t need to read emails to prove that his sloppy affairs can be easily discovered.  He knows this.”

“Then why the report?  Why do you have me creating files and...”

Eliza cupped that back of his head with her hand.  She forcefully kissed him, and in her urging, he kissed her back.  In their exchange, their tongues stroked the inner surfaces of their mouths.  She moaned because in each kiss, she was falling in love and that had never been a part of the plan.

Eliza drew back, she inhaled to catch her breath.  She spoke, truly meaning her words...

“I didn’t give you busy work.  We will need those reports--for a number of reasons.  But for now--let’s just say, that Andrew knows about the affairs, and I won’t have to force him to admit to anything.”

“And the little girl--and Tollin; what about them?”

She sighed, when she said...

“It isn’t what you think Bolden.  Besides...we have bigger fish to fry and we have to be done with Andrew by the end of the year.”

“Why?  Why the end of the year?  Already we’re working around the clock to clean up a lifetimes worth of foulups.  What’s going to happen if he slips and gets in trouble during an election campaign?”

“Sweetie...we can talk about that later.  Hold me.”

This was the side of her that he liked.  Eliza was a powerful woman, but she wasn’t afraid to show her feminine side.  He pulled her into his arms, inhaling the smell of her shampoo.  When he wrapped his arms around her, she raised his hand to her lips, then she kissed his fingers.  She said...

“I love your eyes.”

This wasn’t the first time that he’d heard this and he supplied his stock response.

“You’ll have to thank my mother when you meet her.  Her eyes are hazel and my eyes tend to swing between green and grey.  Kind of like a mood ring.”

She laughed, then she said...

“You said that your mother was at your father’s New Year’s Day party.”

“Yes”  he said, and he wanted to set a date for her to meet his mother; but as usual, his wants would have to wait.  Their conversation ended when her phone rang.  At first he’d expected her to ignore it; given that moments earlier she’d persuaded him to stay in bed with her, instead of finishing the draft of his report.  Eliza pulled free, reaching for her nightstand.

He said...

“Let it ring.”

“I can’t.  Only a few people have this number and it could be important.”

Bolden turned on his side, shifting his weight to lay at an angle.  He tugged the sheet to cover himself, and this gesture demonstrated his annoyance.  She was whispering into the phone, and by her hush-hush tone he assumed that this was another one of her bullshit calls.  More than likely another tip, that would necessitate a change in plans.  For months now, he’d had his hands in some pretty underhanded shit.  Unimaginable things involving, underaged girls, and secret families.

Eliza’s voiced sounded composed and clear, but when you sleep with a person, they are easier to read.  Parts of their armor lay loose, or cracked, partially exposing them.  He’d heard one of her cracks in her voice.  It had been ever so subtle, but Bolden had heard it.

“My hands are tied right now but if I come upon someone who may be of help, I’ll certainly pass your number along.  Yes--certainly.  If you’re asking for my opinion--I think it’s a colossal waste of time.  Of course...I understand your position but it sounds like your’s may be the only reasonable voice and I would suggest that you use this leverage to save the family further heartache”  She laughed, then she said...  “No--it wasn’t a bother.  We’ve been friends for far to long; please don’t worry.  Wish your family well for me.  Yes.  You too.  Goodnight.”

Eliza clicked off her phone, then she lay it back on the nightstand.

“Sorry about that.”  She placed her hand at the nape of his neck, then she caressed his skin along the line of his spine.  When he didn’t respond, she leaned forward, touching his back with her tongue.  She traced the area where her finger had just stroked.  Bolden’s body tingled beneath his flesh.  He wanted to be angry and he wouldn’t tolerate her dogged need for secrecy.

He gritted his teeth while saying...

“Who was that Eliza?”

She licked until she reached the base of his spine.  When she stopped, she spoon her body with his.

“No one important.  Just an old friend.”

“Why were they asking you for help?  Don’t they know that you’re working for the governor.”

She hated the way he pronounced the word governor.  When the veil had been lifted, and there was no longer any  pretense between them; Bolden’s voice wreaked of sarcasm whenever he mentioned the governor.  Eliza’s connection to Andrew Wilcox was one string tied to many other dangling strings; and collectively, these strings formed a huge political, corporate, vindictive scheme held by one knot.

Eliza pulled away.  She was tired and she didn’t want to argue.  There were so many aspects of this scene that resembled events in her past.  Bolden was beginning to sound like Tollin; although Tollin had not worked for her, and he had not been privy to any of her secrets.  While on the other hand, due to circumstances, her relationship with Bolden was its own ticking time bomb and she didn’t look forward to that explosion.

Bolden turned over tucking his elbow beneath his head.  He spoke, and he couldn’t contain his jealousy...

“Who were you talking to?”

“Goodnight Bolden.”

“Eliza...”

She sighed when she said...

“I don’t like you when you’re like this.  You know how I earn my living--and you know that there are facets of my life that involve confidential matters--and it isn’t my place to reveal secrets, especially when the matter concerns other people.”

“I’m not asking to know about your clients.”

“Good.”  She answered as if she’d made her point, but Bolden tested her logic.

“So give...”

“Bolden--I will not discuss my other clients with you.”

”But you just said that you were talking to a friend.  What’s so secret about that?  If I were talking on the phone to a friend...”

She broke in, speaking louder.

“Bolden...in this case, it doesn’t matter if I was talking to a friend, a client, my mother or an aunt; I cannot tell you the name of that caller.  I won’t tell you--and you’ll have to deal with that.  Now--goodnight.”

Eliza closed her eyes because continuing the conversation wouldn’t solve or change anything.  In truth, she couldn’t wholly blame Bolden for her snippiness; actually, she’d been caught off guard.  Over the past few months, she’d spun her wheels chasing down tales, stories, lies and gossip and she’d thought that she’d finally gotten a handle on things.  Then to get a call from Lucien, learning that he’d begun to champion Marisela Pettier’s cause; well, she’d just about threw up in her closed mouth.  She didn’t know at what point the Delors had gotten so involved--and Lucien of all people seemed to be the spearhead.  Due to her contacts in the Justice Department, he wanted a name that would carry a lot of weight.  Thanks to Eliza, Tollin’s family had hit a wall, and the police had told them that Tollin Pettier’s death had been ruled a suicide and that there wasn’t sufficient grounds to pursue a murder investigation.  Now to hear that all of her work had been done for naught; well, the notion spoiled in her gut.  Eliza had used every calming trick in the book to maintain a facade that didn’t betray her true feelings.  When Lucien had explained that Marisela had gone against her parent’s wishes, hiring a team of investigators and lawyers to investigate the real reason for Tollin’s death; she had to force back the bile that churned in her throat.  And now, she had Bolden demanding to know something that should have resolved itself weeks ago, but it hadn’t.  She wanted to close herself off from the world because she couldn’t handle another crisis and she couldn’t begin to imagine the fallout, or how she would be blamed.  Not tonight.  She felt the sway then dip of the bed.  Bolden was leaving and she considered the cost of letting him go.