Saving from Monkeys by Jessie L. Star

all pushing forward for drinks and easily able to eavesdrop , I gave in and nodded. The list of people who knew I'd slept with Elliot was already quite long enough for my liking; I didn't want it to grow any bigger.
    He pushed himself away the counter and I picked up my glass and followed him through the press of people towards the stairs. He looked over his shoulder a couple of times to check that I was following him and I had the urge to duck down and disappear into the crowd, just to see what he'd do. Knowing Elliot he'd probably make a big scene and get some of the staff he seemed so chummy with to drag me out of hiding and back into his presence, so I didn't act on it. Besides, I really did want to see just how many answers I could get out of him when we were safely ensconced in the official 'conversation' area.
    Haze was rubbish, but I had to admit the upstairs bit was a good idea. The thump, thump, thump of the music was diluted so you could clearly hear yourself think, and others talk, and the free chair opposite Elliot was comfy despite its self-consciously funky design. A quick glance around told me that most people were deeply involved in, mostly drunken, deep and meaningfuls so Elliot's and my conversation would take place in relative privacy.
    "So," I said, as soon as we were settled, "you found out about Nan's stroke the night we had sex?"
    "Have you considered going into journalism rather than business?" He asked, leaning his lithe body back in his chair and lifting a hand to acknowledge someone who had called a greeting to him from across the room. "You've certainly got the 'doggedly following a line of questioning' thing down."
    "Yes, and your career as a white collar criminal will no doubt be a raging success judging by how well you've got the ' avoiding the dogged line of questioning' thing down," I snapped in reply. As I saw his eyes wandering away again, probably to fix on the chest area of some poor unfortunate girl, I leant forward and clicked my fingers loudly in his face. "Hey, pay attention!"
    He sighed then, but stopped playing the mafia boss in his den act and sat forward with an expression that suggested he was actually going to talk to me properly.
    "So you heard about Nan, then?"
    "Clearly," I said through gritted teeth. "No thanks to you."
    He actually had the cheek to look surprised at this. "I thought your mum would've told you."
    "Yeah, well she thought that you would. Here's hoping there's never an axe-murderer after me and both you and Mum think the other one's going to warn me." I felt the fear and hurt from when I'd been on the phone with Nan suddenly swell up inside me, making me gasp out, "Seriously, what did you think? That I wouldn't care? That I wouldn't notice and then suddenly, years down the track, I might just happen to mention offhand that I hadn't seen Nan move on her left side for a while?"
    Everyone else's conversations across the mezzanine level continued as normal, but there was suddenly a tense buzz in ours. Elliot had stiffened during my outburst, but he waited until I'd well and truly finished before he said simply, "She hasn't got years, Rox."
    He might as well have punched me. I sat back in my chair with a whoosh of expelled breath and curled my arms across my stomach. So it was that bad.
    "I didn't...I thought..." I stammered, finding myself incapable of forming a proper sentence after hearing something so awful.
    "And, yeah, I had just found out when you came round," he continued before I had any time to regroup. "Hell, maybe that was part of it, I don't know. I was already drinking and then you were there and...but I didn't...we didn't... because of it." He took a big slug of his beer and I followed suit with my drink, unable to think of anything to say.
    I’ d never seen Elliot lost for words like that. In the past I'd only seen his emotional spectrum span calm and amused to vaguely irritated; detached in a 'you can't get to me' kind of way. That I'd clearly got