Chapter 50 Facade

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Five days came and went like a street carnival. Olivia fell back into an old pattern from years ago where she had a hard time leaving the side of the man she cared about during the opening stages of the relationship. If this colony wasn't so messed up, maybe she'd have a shot at that after all. Pipe dream.

"Where are you going?" The sheets pulled over Edward's head muffled his voice. The man was not a morning person and made a spectacle of it.

"To work, as should you."

"Stay in bed with me. We'll play hooky and no one will suspect a thing."

If only he were right. The director would have both of their heads on a platter and Edward would finally understand spine gripping fear. She pulled her clean and ironed clothes off the hangers in his dresser. Every minute counted this morning. If she could get ready in his apartment, she'd be in much better shape to face the ruthless leader.

She came back after freshening up and pulled the covers away from his head. He groaned in response. "I'm leaving; you should get ready for work too."

She leaned in to give him a quick kiss on the lips, but he would have none of that. His hand found the base of her skull. To bring her closer, his fingers tangled themselves in her hair. It didn't bother her too much this time. An excuse to stay an extra minute. She couldn't even estimate how many similar kisses she had received all weekend, but each one was just as effective, if not more, as the last.

"Later," she said as she pulled herself away. She straightened out her hair in the mirror.

"Olivia," Edward called out as she reached his bedroom door. "You're amazing. Don't let anyone else tell you otherwise. Have a good day at work."

How had he known how much she'd need those words for her upcoming meeting?

She smiled and took her time with the doorknob. There was no telling when circumstances would change and moments like this would cease to become memories. "You too."

Each bar and step on the director's ridiculous obstacle course made her loathe the man with more passion. The anger brought her power instead of fear as her muscles strengthened with each movement. She had the information. It was over and she could go back to regular duties.

"Director," she called out as she entered his bright lair. Bold, but warranted.

He gave no immediate answer and she went to sit down. The art behind his large wooden desk had changed to the portrait of a boy in a red vest that appeared familiar. Her attention was so focused on determining its origins that the director's appearance in the room took her by surprise.

"Admiring my Cézanne? It seemed a shame to keep it locked away in storage with the others." He placed himself in front of the desk, directly in her field of vision. He was showing off as he usually did, although in her case it did little as her art knowledge was limited.

"I've seen this before."

"It has changed hands a number of times in its lifetime. I think it has found a most accommodating resting spot at the moment. I couldn't stand to leave such a piece in a museum destined to be wasted in the storms and tornadoes. Much like valuable people like yourself."

He was no humanitarian. She knew that quite well and chose not to respond. His smile vanished and his eyes locked in on her.

"I assume you dared to show your face with more valuable information this time."

Olivia stopped herself from gulping. The momentary facade of humanity was gone.

You have information. Use it.

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