The Truth Is

Chapter Three

As much as Miami was dry and warm two-thirty-seven days of the year, one hundred thirty-seven of them were grey, muggy, and wet. The following Monday after my shoot at Hallouver Beach had turned into one of the more depressing days out of the year. Cold and bitter. I hadn't been bothered to drive in that kind of weather; instead I grabbed a taxi down.

Cloaked in a veil of mist and grey, there was a different feel to the city. The driver scratched his moustache, before reaching over to adjust his rear-view mirror.

My ponytail brushed accross my shoulders, pupils re-directing themselves. I was drawn in by the sight of all the traffic behind us. Men in suits and women in suit-skirts cut corners, weaving in and out of vehichles. There were traffic lights nearby, but they were left abandoned for another time. These people were in a hurry. It was the Monday morning rush hour. But as much as the roads were their usual busy selves, it felt calm as I leant my head on the window. I spent that drive marvelling at the rain as thrummed glass of the windows, and on the roof.

I realised that it had been just over a week since the break-up. I felt a little better knowing that all of that had been put behind me. I was at the beginning of a long recovery.

Stepping out of the taxi a short while later, I handed the driver some cash and rushed inside, pushing through the double doors. I was glad I was going to be spending my day at Two Towers Management, rather caught in the heavy wind outside.

At the front desk, the secretary greeted me. She was a blonde-haired woman in heels, always made sure to wear a pencil skirt and heels. She wasn't conventionally pretty perse, but there's was something about her that told you she had all the men wrapped around her finger. A smile appeared on her face as she remembered my face from the many previous times I'd walked into the building. She directed me to my usual waiting area, and my boots treaded heavil as trailed in her footsteps.

The clock above the desk told me that I had fifteen minutes to spare, so I picked up one of the many fashion magazines that lay atop the table in front of me. It was one of the older "vintage" ones. Opening the tatty-looking thing, it spread out, balancing on my crossed knee as my eyes scanned the pages. The cold weight of its' sheets against my knee made me shiver slightly. Jeans with cut-outs on the knees had been a bad choice considering the weather conditions. Rather than actually reading the tabloid, I ended up fidgetting. I wasn't used to being this early, so bending over each of the page corners became my favourite pastime.

About ten minutes went by, when I was caught off gaurd to see my new assistant had arrived first. I had to remind myself that I was getting over Kyle; his dark features reminding me of him again for a split second. I blinked, tightly squeezing my eyes shut to get rid of the picture of his face out of my head. Ethan flashed his teeth at me as he made his way over, waving. I could hear my heart in my ears, but I ignored it. Shut up, shut up, I thought. I knew it was only lust, something that I wasn't about to control me. Kyle had already played me; no way I was going to be his to play with too. No way I was going to be vulnerable like that.

"Nice to see you, Wendi. Glad I'm not the only earlybird." He reached me panting, like he'd been rushing to get here. He wriggled a not too shabby looking tie around his kneck, resting it back underneath the collar of his shirt. "I see that you are too."

"I caught a ride down. Tough luck, I guess."

An amused chuckle left his lips. "Tough luck? Don't you enjoy having a moment to sit down? Busy girl like you?"

"I'm not a fan of being bored," I said pointing to the folded corners I'd left.

He shrugged somewhat. "Well, they say time-keeping is an invaluable skill. You've been gifted well with that one."

"Not usually on-time either," I countered. "Gossip pages love to write about that when it comes to Wendi Sanches." I gestured to myself, as if to make particularly clear that I was talking about myself. Maybe it had looked like something else.

"That's a surprise, with how you look now I would've pegged you as a professional." He locked his gaze with mine suddenly, holding it there. Then, as if nothing had happened, he said he had to set up the meeting room. He rushed off, leaving me taken aback. My mouth hung open a while after he left. Eventually, I was able to lead my attention back to the new hobby i'd picked up, with only five minutes left to waste.