Page 20 of Call Off the Dark

Two hours later, Helen entered Coleman Geyer with a manila envelope in her hand. She smiled at the receptionist and lifted the envelope. “Just dropping this off with someone,” Helen said without pausing in her stride.

The receptionist nodded and her eyes returned to the desk computer. You could go almost anywhere if you acted like you belonged.

Helen had no idea where Tyler’s desk was, so she walked down the halls briskly, clutching the envelope. Any time an employee noticed her, she nodded in a way that invited no inquiry. I’m here on business! See, I have an envelope!

Finally, she came upon Tyler’s desk. His back was to her, and he held the phone to his ear. An inner cubicle, not the most private place to have this conversation. There were two people at nearby cubicles within earshot.

Helen stopped at the edge of the half wall that delineated Tyler’s cubicle from the one next to it. He sensed her presence and spun his desk chair slightly to see who it was. His lips parted faintly in surprise.

She smiled nervously, though she hoped it looked cool and casual as she leaned against the half wall. He continued listening to the person on the other end of the line, never taking his eyes off Helen. She glanced around as if admiring the office space: Nice place here—the generic wall art, the fake plants, the garish overhead lighting, love it!

It felt like an eternity of waiting, though it was probably less than a minute before she heard Tyler say, “Hey, can I call you back in a bit?”

As he hung up, she turned back to him. His hands were clasped in his lap, the body language of someone patiently waiting for the other person to speak first. The sleeves of his button-down shirt were folded partly up his forearms, and she swallowed. She knew what the skin there felt like.

Helen said, “I need to see Daphne.”

In the elevator ride down from floor seven, she had come up with that opener, thinking it would be clever, but it sounded stupid instead. Tyler didn’t laugh. He just looked at her for a long moment, then stood.

“Sure, follow me,” he said.

So she did, uncertain if this was going to be another game. That hadn’t been her intention, and she didn’t want to playact with him. But he didn’t attempt to say anything funny as he led her down the hall to a wooden door. He simply opened it and gestured for her to go ahead.

She stepped inside a large supply closet. It smelled like paper and, strangely, pencil lead. Who used pencils these days, other than architects maybe? Then Helen realized she was standing next to an old wall-mounted pencil sharpener, a relic of a past time. It looked like the type that had been at her elementary school, and loneliness swept over her. Growing up to be a woman hadn’t turned out to be as much fun as she’d imagined it would be as a little girl.

Tyler closed the door quietly behind them and regarded her with a neutral expression. “Okay. What’s up, Helen?”

“What’s up?” Helen repeated. This man had a lot of nerve.

“Is there a problem?”

“Yes.” She tossed the useless manila envelope on the shelf next to her. “You.”

A crease formed between his eyebrows. “Okay. What did I do?”

“Are you serious?”

His face softened a little. “Yes. I’m not a mind reader, so just tell me.” He rested his hand on her shoulder and it seemed like a spontaneous gesture, a sign that he was still comfortable with the idea of his body touching hers, and that incensed her even as she felt herself wanting to sway into the touch, not away.

“You didn’t call me or text or anything. It’s been almost a week.” She felt her face burning now. “I realize I could have called or texted you myself, except when you left my place on Friday morning, you said, and I quote, I’ll call you later today.”

Tyler removed his hand from her shoulder and stared at her for a long beat before he said, very slowly, “This is because I didn’t call you or text you?” Helen looked away, then back again. He smiled faintly as he asked, “And you’re upset about that?”

It was his little smile that made her snap. “Fuck you—yes, I’m upset. I thought we had a great time.”

Tyler made a slight face in reaction to her swearing at him, almost as if it wounded him, and she wished she could take that part back—not because he didn’t deserve it, but because it seemed undignified on her part, swearing like a truck driver. She didn’t care if he knew that he’d hurt her though. He had indeed hurt her, and if he could do something like this to her, he was probably doing this to lots of women. What was the point of acting indifferent when someone charmed you only to discard you? There was no shame in being hurt.

“You’re so mean.” Helen shook her head. “A woman tells you she’s upset, and you smile at her?”

Tyler’s entire expression changed then. “No, I’m sorry,” he said softly, bringing his hands to the outside of her arms. Gentle, reassuring. “Don’t be upset. I just thought it was a little funny because I did call you. And I texted you. You didn’t reply to my texts or call me back, so I thought you were the one ignoring me.”

“What?”

As Tyler pulled his phone out of his pocket and punched in the passcode, Helen could already feel the heaviness lifting.

He opened his text app and scrolled down to find a thread. He held it up so she could read it. Her name was at the top and the thread had two outgoing messages.

The first was date-stamped Friday at 6:10 p.m.: