Sixteen ◑ The Blood

The three others froze, flashing scared looks at Lucille. She didn't share the same sentiments, though. Her anger numbed everything else. She only smiled curtly at Jamie and followed her to Cade's office, where he was sitting expectantly behind his desk.

For some reason, he was smiling, which was strange since he still had traces of blood along his upper lip.

"Take a seat," he said eagerly, gesturing at the leather chair in front of his desk. Lucille barely sat when he continued, "I got an email from Saint Joseph College, and they confirmed the dates for the career seminar."

"Wow." She couldn't care less. "That's fantastic!"

Cade began to grin wider, but he hesitated, his eyes narrowed. "Are you okay? You look kind of . . . mad."

"What? No." Lucille bared her teeth in what she hoped was a smile. "So, the seminars?"

"Yeah." His spirits sprang back up. "We have the entire Saturday with the college kids. I'm kind of excited."

Lucille thought of a snide remark about how he wanted to come only because of college kids, but she couldn't even string the right insult together. She couldn't take her eyes off the smear of darkening crimson on his face. A fresh drop of red was peeking from his right nostril too. To top it off, his eyes had kind of like a fractured light in it, like he was only forcing himself to be excited but deep inside he just wanted to leave.

That she could relate with. But they all just had to suck it up, hadn't they?

But the blood was really starting to bother her. It was gross.

"Cade?" she hazarded. "Your nose is still bleeding."

"What?" His expression went blank. "But I already wiped it."

*Wiped it half-assedly*, Lucille wanted to say, but instead she took the abandoned ice pack on his desk as well as the small towel it came with. Then, she reached over the desk and gently wiped the blood off him while pressing the ice back on the bridge of his nose.

"No, you shouldn't do that," Cade said weakly, his cheeks going red. "I'll just go to a clinic quick—"

"That won't be necessary." Lucille went around the desk and sat directly in front of him, inspecting the small bruise that was beginning to form at the tip of his nose. "Good news is, it's not broken. Bad news is, it's still going to hurt for a few days. How will you go to the seminar with this?"

He shrugged, relaxing as she continued to move the ice pack around. "I think I'll manage. I should still probably sue Martin, though."

Lucille smirked. "But you're too nice for that."

"Not really." He missed the sarcasm in her words. "I just don't want to sink as low as him. Like, a porn video on a meeting? Downright punching someone? Really? The virus was expertly made too, so he probably paid a fortune for it."

"The lengths people would go," she said dryly.

"It was effective, though. Now everyone thinks I'm shit."

"That's not true." Lucille put the ice pack down and feigned reproach. Fuck this guy. Of course he was shit. "We're all on your side."

"That," Cade said with a smile, "is not true."

"Well, at least most of us are on your side. Me included."

The effect of those words were heavy. Or so it appeared for Cade. He froze, the smile on his face growing wider. His eyes softened as they met hers, and even though she was itching to slap him with the ice pack, she couldn't quite help feeling a bit self-conscious. She didn't like soft looks like that. She didn't like how close they were. She shouldn't have cleaned his stupid bleeding nose.

Lucille tried to smile back, all the while maintaining a breezy demeanor as she rose to her feet and turned to go back to her original seat. Her legs were slightly shaking, though. Her hands were tingling.

This dude really was an expert of the game, huh? For her to feel this nervous around him.

She took her first step away from him, but before she her foot could even land, he took her hand.

Softly. As softly as his eyes were sweeping over her face.

"Thank you, Lucille," Cade uttered. "I'm glad I have you."

◑≡◑≡◑≡◑

"Saint Joseph College arranged accommodations in Patchogue for us, so I think it's best if we go together. I'll pick you up at eight. Is that okay? Sorry I didn't tell you earlier. I just read the email."

Cade's voice message was still playing on a loop in Lucille's head as she frantically searched for an overnight bag that's not ridiculously huge, expensive, or gaudy.

So far she was coming up empty-handed.

This was bad. She thought that she and Cade would be driving to Saint Joseph College separately, but it seemed that the career coordinator had thought that that would be a possible waste of time. That coordinator appeared to be highly strict about punctuality too.

Granted, the entire seminar thing was a waste of time, anyway. The university hadn't needed to arrange accommodations in a hotel just for the speakers of a stupid, boring talk that none of those college kids would listen to.

But they already had arranged a place for them. The details were sent to her just minutes ago, an hour after the voice mail.

Eight o'clock. Cade would pick her at eight o’clock. It was already half past seven. Yeah, she'd showered and dressed, but she still had nothing to bring for tomorrow. She couldn't even find a bag that wasn't vintage or bejeweled.

"Do you need a hand?" Agnes asked tentatively, standing by the door of their closet room. "I can help you find—"

"No, thank you," Lucille cut in.

For the past two days Agnes had been trying to make small talk, to offer small bits of apologies without saying the actual words. She'd prepared things for Lucille in the morning, cooked meals for when she got home, and basically done her best to try to close the growing gap between them. The only problem was, Lucille hadn't felt the need to acknowledge any of these. She was still too pissed to see reason.

Sure, Lucille understood. She was no dumbass. Agnes had been doing it for her. Still, how could you forgive someone for being right, especially when it meant you would have to admit that you're wrong?

Her pride wouldn't allow that. She wouldn't be able to live with the shame.

And so she'd let the days pass in silence, torturing Agnes with nonchalance and lack of response.

As usual, Agnes was rational, patient.

"Alright." Agnes's smile was tiny, a bit sad. "I'll leave you to it. Do you need anything else?"

"No," Lucille responded and went on to pick a scarlet velvet bag simply because it was the smallest. Also, it was the only one that didn't have gold studs, silk embroidery, sequins, and crystals as decorations.

She pulled it out of the rack quickly, and by doing so caused some of the others to come off their hooks and crash onto the floor.

Agnes started towards the fresh disaster, but then she hesitated and lingered by the door.

Red-faced and embarrassed, Lucille gathered all the fallen bags in her arms, plopped them all on the chaise lounge, and proceeded to panic over what she would put inside her chosen bag.

God, this was her punishment for never packing her own things ever.

Okay, what should she bring? And how many? Would three dresses be enough? Would it even be necessary? How about shoes? She supposed she should just take one as a spare for the red pumps she was wearing. What about underwear? And all her skin care things? Soap, conditioners, body creams? What if the hotel Saint Joseph got them turned out to be one of those cheap ones with suspicious liquids on the sheets? What if they end up in—

*Ring!*

The phone in the hallway broke through the scene like a well-timed strike. It made Lucille forget about her struggle, while it gave Agnes an excuse to run out of the room without looking as pathetic as she probably already did.

Once Agnes was gone, Lucille took two cashmere coat dresses, a chiffon scarf, a shit-ton of underwear, a Jo Malone gift set, and a pair of her Louboutins stilettos and dumped them all inside her bag.

Now, the only thing left to do was to force the zipper to close over these shit.

Lucille pushed and pushed them all in, yanking the zipper in place. Once she was done, Agnes came back, but she wasn't alone.

Standing behind her was Cade—clean-shaven, bright-eyed, and casually dressed in jeans, a gray sweater, and sneakers.

Cade looked around the vast space sheepishly, slowly slinking back into the door. "Hey. Sorry, are you busy?"

Lucille flashed Agnes a what-were-you-thinking look, but she wiped it off in a split second turned to Cade. "No, not at all. In fact, I'm ready to go."