Sophie knew something was wrong before they’d left the base camp.
She’d been up since dawn, packing, having last-minute meetings, touching base with as many people as possible before leaving. Michael, having few possessions and no official role, kept mostly to himself. She saw him laughing with Will and later in deep conversation with the Rev. Mostly, she was too busy to keep track of him.
There were no long goodbyes. They loaded their things into the SUV, exchanged brief farewells with those in the compound, and they pulled away. Neither of them could endure long goodbyes. No GYL alum could.
As they were getting ready to leave, she could feel his aloofness. She caught him staring at her, his eyes brooding, his touch impersonal. Her dark, angry Michael had returned.
With flawless courtesy, he insisted she ride in the front seat of the vehicle with the driver. So she wouldn’t feel ill, he explained.
“I want to be with you,” she protested.
“It is better if you sit up front.”
During the silent drive to Kaliningrad, she wracked her brain, trying to figure out what had happened to cause his sudden change in mood. Had it been something Will had said? Something she’d said or done? She glanced in the mirror and saw him staring out the window, his mind far away. Was it only yesterday that she’d told Anjali that they hadn’t fought? She had spoken too soon.
Whatever his problem, he wasn’t talking. Not at the airport in Kaliningrad. Not during the ninety-minute flight between Kaliningrad and Frankfurt. By the time they reached the business class lounge in Frankfurt, the tension between them had grown thick, and Sophie felt sick, angry, and scared.
“Okay, let’s have it,” she blurted out as they sat down in the lounge with coffee and lunch. “What’s your problem this time?” The words came out harsher than intended, and Sophie regretted going on the offensive.
Michael looked at her imperiously. “My problem. Of course, I am the one who has a problem.”
“You’re the one sulking. All I’ve done today is pack my stuff, say goodbye to my colleagues, get some work done, and fly here. I’m not sure which of those tasks has made you so angry.” She saw fury simmering deep in his eyes, melting the iciness.
“Yes, you did get some work done, didn’t you?” His voice became suddenly unpleasant. “Last night, before you came to our bed, you got some work done.”
She stared at him, confused. What had happened the night before?
Shit. The meeting about our media plans.
“I can float it to Michael…I’ll give you his answer before we leave.”
“Are you talking about the meeting I had with the exec team about media coverage?”
“Yes, I am. Imagine my surprise when the Rev asked me how I felt about your proposal. I had to tell him, of course, that you had not bothered to seek my opinion.”
“Why didn’t you say so?” she asked testily. “I’m sorry I forgot to discuss it with you. I walked into the room and found you naked in bed with your dick in your hand. Did you really want me to discuss PR tactics with you at that point?”
He had the decency to flush at her words. “No, of course not. But afterward or first thing this morning would not have been amiss. Or – here is a novel idea – how about inviting me to the meeting in the first place?” His voice dripped with sarcasm. “Or am I only to serve you in the bedroom?”
“Oh, for God’s sake.” She snatched up her coffee. “I made the right decision on the media coverage. Why are you upset? Would you prefer to face the media upon clearing immigration in New York? I can arrange for that to happen.” She gestured to her iPhone on the table, daring him.