Lisa Scottoline - Look Again

"And clean."

Marcelo nodded, with a smile. "I was going to say it was clean. Very clean."

"Thank you." Ellen went into the cabinet, found a decent tumbler, then went in the fridge and got him ice and a soda. Oreo Figaro sat on the counter, watching the goings-on with interest.

"I like cats. What's his name?"

"Oreo Figaro."

Marcelo lifted an eyebrow. "Back home, many people have two names, like my brother, Carlos Alberto. But I didn't think that was so common in the States."

"It's not. He's Brazilian."

Marcelo laughed. He popped the soda and poured it fizzling into the glass. "I live in town."

I know. We all know. You're the hot, single Latin boss, and therefore the most-talked-about person in the newsroom, if not the Western Hemisphere.

"I think about moving out here, but I wonder how you meet women in the suburbs."

"At the sandbox, mostly."

Marcelo smiled.

"The men are short, but they're single."

Marcelo laughed again. "I was out here on a blind date. Can you imagine that?"

"Unfortunately, yes." Ellen liked the way his accent made it e-magine. "How was it?"

"Excruciating."

"Been there. Excruciating conversation, excruciating restaurant, excruciating kiss good night. It's excruciating."

Marcelo laughed again. "Glad to see you're feeling better."

I always make jokes when I'm nervous.

"It was very strange to have you faint, so suddenly." Marcelo frowned slightly, and Ellen recognized a flicker of concern behind his eyes, which made her warm all over.

"Thank you for being so kind about it."

"Give me no credit. I wanted to leave, but you were lying in my way."

Ellen laughed, and Marcelo sipped his soda and set it down.

"So, to your email."

"Yes."

"Please explain."

"I'm not sure where to begin."

"Let's be honest with each other. You're reliable. You make deadlines. You didn't take a vacation last year, I checked. All of a sudden, you're fainting and you need time off for a mysterious reason." Marcelo glanced away, then back again. "I will tell you, I usually keep my private life to myself, but my mother was recently diagnosed with breast cancer. She's at home, in Pinheiros, getting treatments, and she tells me they make her very tired."

Ellen felt for him, having been there herself, and the pain on his face was visible. "I'm sorry."

"Thank you. If that is what's going on with you, or if you have some other illness, you can be sure I'll keep it confidential."

Ellen felt touched. "I don't have cancer, but thank you for asking."

"Is it another illness? Is that it?"

Ellen didn't know what to say. His tone was so calm and the excuse so handy that she almost considered making up a short-lived disease. She could keep her job, if she lied.

"Do you have a drug problem, or alcohol? We have counseling for that, you know."

"No, that's not it, at all."

"Well, what then? Am I being too intrusive? I feel like I'm doing that a lot lately, with you, though I'm trying to help you. It's a difficult situation, having to make these layoff decisions, and I'm doing everything I can to save your job." Marcelo stood straighter, shaking his head. "But a vacation request, at a time like this, how do you justify that?"

"All I can tell you is that I need to take these few days off to settle something personal."

Marcelo looked at her, his regret plain. "That's it?"

Ellen was so tempted to tell him, but she couldn't. "Sorry," she answered. "That's it."

"Are you going somewhere or staying here?"

"I'd rather not say. I'm taking vacation time, is all."

Marcelo's lips pursed. "Will you get the homicide piece written on time?"

"Honestly, I don't know."

"How does your draft look?"

"I haven't started drafting yet."

"May I have your notes?"

"I haven't transcribed them yet." Ellen felt a wave of guilt at his dismayed expression.

"How am I supposed to give you an extension and no one else? How can I justify treating you specially?"

"If you have to fire me, I understand. But I need this time for myself."

"Would you rather get fired than tell me what's going on?" Marcelo asked, his eyes disbelieving. "Can that be what you truly want?"

"Yes," Ellen answered, though she hadn't thought of it that way.

"It matters that much to you, whatever you're doing?"

"It matters more to me than anything in the world."

Marcelo blinked.

Ellen blinked back. For a minute, they played eye chicken.

Marcelo sighed, and his expression softened. "Okay, you win. Take the time you need this week, but that's it. I'll tell everyone you're not feeling well. It'll make sense, after you fainted dead away."

"You're saying yes?" Ellen was dumbfounded. "Why?"

"I'm trying to show you that I'm not a jerk."

"I know that. I never thought you were."

Marcelo lifted an eyebrow, dubious, but Ellen knew she'd never convince him otherwise, after what Sarah had told him.

"What about the homicide piece?"

"It can wait a week. The fire in the Yerkes Building is the new story."

"What fire?" Ellen had been in the love cocoon with Will and hadn't heard. The Yerkes was one of the biggest buildings in town.

"Three people killed, cleaning personnel, so sad. The building burned to the ground. Police suspect arson."

"Wait a minute," Ellen said, as the truth dawned on her. "Does that mean you didn't really need my draft, just now?"

"Uh, yes." Marcelo looked sheepish. "Oh well."

"You rat!"

"You don't think I'm a rat. You like me."

Ellen was mortified. "How do you know?"

"I run the newsroom. You think I don't know the news?"

Ellen laughed, embarrassed. "Oh yeah, so what else do you know?"

"Is it true?" Marcelo's dark eyes glittered in a teasing way.

"You answer me. Then I'll answer you."

"I know everybody believes that I'm attracted to you, and that's why you're not getting laid off."

Ellen flushed.

"And I have to say, they're half-right," Marcelo answered, his voice suddenly serious. His eyes met hers across the counter, with a very adult honesty. "I would love to take you out, I admit it."

Ellen felt a smile spread across her face.

"But that's not the reason you're keeping your job. You're keeping your job because you're a great reporter."

"Thank you. And what if this crush is mutual?"

"So is it?" Marcelo was grinning, but she couldn't believe they were having this conversation. Oreo Figaro listened, in shock.

"Yes."

"That's very nice to hear, but it's too bad. Nothing will happen between us. It compromises you. It compromises me. This is romance in the time of sexual harassment, and that means nothing good happens, never ever. Except maybe this." In the next second, Marcelo leaned over and planted the softest, sweetest kiss on her unsuspecting lips, and when it was over, he pulled away. "Never ever again." "Excruciating," Ellen said, meaning it.

"Mommy, don't go!" Will wailed, grabbing Ellen around the knees and holding on for dear life. She was dressed for the early flight, her purse on her shoulder, her roller bag packed and ready, but she wasn't going anywhere, blocked by the Wall of Guilt.

"Honey, I have to." Ellen rubbed his little back. "Remember, we talked about this? I have to go away for work but I'll be back very soon, in four or five days, probably."

"FOUR DAYS!" Will burst into new tears, and Connie intervened, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"Will, you and me will have a great time. I brought ice cream, and we can make sundaes after school today. Won't that be fun?"

"Mommy, no!"

"Will, it's all right." Ellen had learned from experience that he would never calm down, so she gave him a last hug and kiss on the head while she pried his fingers off one by one, like the dewclaws of a kitten. "I have to go, honey. I'll call you tonight. You'll see, I'll be back soon."