Look Again - Lisa Scottoline [84]
“I’m really sorry about what happened.”
“I know.” Marcelo looked tense, a new tightness around his mouth. “I’ve been struggling with what to do, how to handle the situation.” He linked his fingers between his legs, leaning forward slightly. “To start with, I shouldn’t have done what I did . . . started anything romantic with you. It was wrong, and I’m sorry.”
Ellen swallowed, hurt. “You don’t have to say you’re sorry, and it wasn’t so terrible.”
“It was, especially considering how it turned out.”
“But we can set it right.”
“No, we can’t.”
Ellen felt like they were having a lovers’ quarrel, and they weren’t even lovers.
“I’m your editor, and there’s no way we can be together, in the end.”
“But we just started.” Ellen was surprised at the emotion in her voice. “Other couples at the paper date.”
“Not editor and staffer. Not a direct report.” Marcelo shook his head, downcast. “Anyway, to the point. I lied to my staff. I’ve never lied to my staff, ever. I showed you a favoritism I wouldn’t have shown anyone else, and I did it because I care for you.” His voice softened, but his gaze remained firm. “But now I know what to do.”
“I do, too.” Ellen had thought about it on the plane, but Marcelo held up his hand.
“Let me, please. That’s why I came here tonight. I don’t want you to come in to work tomorrow morning.”
No. “Why not?”
“I’m going to hold a meeting of the staff and I don’t think you should be there. I’m going to tell them what happened. Not about my . . . feelings, I’m not that crazy.” Marcelo smiled. “I’m going to tell them that I lied about your whereabouts because you had a personal matter that you didn’t want me or them to know about, and I thought it was the best way to handle the situation.”
“You’re going to tell the truth?”
Marcelo chuckled. “It’s not that crazy. We’re a newspaper. We care for truth.”
“But not now, not this way.” Ellen couldn’t let him do it. It was career suicide.
“I’m going to apologize and say that I realize, in retrospect, that it was poor judgment on my part.”
“You can’t do that, Marcelo.” Ellen didn’t know where to begin. “It undermines your credibility forever. They’re already talking about you, and this will only add fuel to the fire. You’ll never live it down.”
“Reporters are intelligent and verbal people. They talk, they speculate, and they gossip. There’s nothing to be done about it.”
Ellen leaned forward, urgent. “That’s not the way to handle this. One of us has to admit that they were lying, and that person can’t be you.”
“If I tell the truth, it will pass.”
“No, it will follow you forever. I can’t let you do it.”
“You have no say,” Marcelo said with a sad smile, and Ellen realized that if he wouldn’t do it for him, maybe he’d do it for her.
“You’d hurt me more if you did that. They’ll think we’re sleeping together, and I’ll be branded forever. It’s better for me if you suspend me for lying to you.”
“You want that?” Marcelo frowned.
“It’s the only way. If you suspend me, I look like just another employee who lied to the boss. Everybody lies to the boss.”
“They do?” Marcelo looked horrified, which Ellen thought was adorable.
“If we tell them I lied to you, then I’m just somebody who played hooky.”
“Hooky?”
“Ditched work for the day. I even have a tan. But, on the other hand, if you tell them you lied for me, it makes it a bigger deal and it never goes away.”
Marcelo pursed his lips, searching her face, and Ellen could see she was making headway.
“You’re a journalist, so you should know. Employee lies to boss. That’s no story. Boss lies for employee? A headline.”
“I don’t know.” Marcelo ran his fingers through his hair, muttering. “Que roubada. What a mess.”
“Marcelo, if you care about me, you’ll suspend me without pay.”
“Is that what you want?”
“Yes. For a week.”
Marcelo’s lips flattened to a sour line. “Three days.”
“Done.”
Marcelo eyed her, his regret plain. “It’s a disciplinary action against you. It jeopardizes your job.”
Ellen knew that, but this wasn’t the time to cry about it. She’d gotten