Page 78 of No One But Us

“That’s fine,” I agree, handing him my phone.

“Before we proceed,” he says, turning to me, “I need to know the nature of your relationship with Mr. Ferris.”

“He was my boss,” I say. “I interned for him at the start of the summer.”

“And was your relationship ever romantic in nature?” he asks.

“No,” I reply. “Never.”

The officer looks dubious. He casts a glance at James. “It strikes me that perhaps this is something we should be discussing in private.”

“There’s nothing I would say to you that I wouldn’t say in front of James, if that’s what you’re implying. I have never been with Edward Ferris in any way.”

He shrugs. I get the feeling he still doesn’t believe me, probably because he reads the tabloids like everyone else. He takes the phone and leaves to have the messages transcribed.

James reaches out and squeezes my hand. “You okay?”

I nod, slipping out of his grasp. I’m going to be cool about this. If he wants to think of me as his friend, that’s his right.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, friend,” I say. So much for being cool.

“Elle,” he says. “I just…didn’t know what to say. You know you’re more than that.”

I want to be someone other than who I am in this moment. Someone calm and mature. But instead, bitterness spews from my mouth like I’m possessed.

“Yeah? A friend you fuck? That’s so much better.”

“Stop,” he says. “If you want to talk about this, we can, but don’t sit here where I can’t really discuss it and accuse me of shit. You have no idea how I feel.”

My shoulders sag. “Okay.”

“Give me your hand,” he says, holding his between our chairs. Reluctantly I reach over, but mine lays limp in his grasp.

The officer comes back out, taking a quick look at our joined hands and smirking a little. “I’m turning the transcripts over to counsel,” he says. “They’ll make the final call, but I’ve got no doubt there’s enough there for a restraining order at the very least.”

I nod, but my stomach falls. The truth is I was hoping he’d say there was nothing to worry about. I’ve been in the spotlight enough this summer to last me the rest of my life. And I know better than either of them that if this gets out, it won’t just be Edward’s life that gets worse.

* * *

As we drive home, I’m still contemplating what lies ahead. I’m going to be in the papers again. Everything about me will be dissected. They will find every photo known to man and portray me as some kind of wild nymphomaniac, never mentioning that the bathing suit shot is from a family trip or that I’m posing in pajamas next a roommate cut out of the photo.

And James. That’s the part that actually hurts, as opposed to making me sick with worry—although it does that too. After all these weeks, he’s still referring to me as his friend? We have only a little under two weeks left together, and that’ll be it. And he won’t owe me a thing, because he never took anything, or promised it.

He pulls into the driveway, and I begin to open the door, but he stops me with a hand on my arm.

“Elle,” he says. “Wait.”

“We have to get ready for work.”

“I know. I just want you to know that…back there…wasn’t what it seemed,” he says haltingly. “I know you’re upset. I just didn’t know what to say.”

Does he really think that explanation helps his case? “Yeah, it’s pretty clear that you didn’t know what to say.” My voice is slightly hoarse with the need to cry, which I won’t do in front of him. “And it seems pretty clear to me that by now, you probably should.”

I get out of the car and go inside alone. He doesn’t even try to argue with me.

* * *