The NYCE Girls!

by Raquel Belle

  “Oh,” she says with a sigh. “Thank god.”

  I spot our car across the street when we step outside and the driver spots us as well. We wait on the curb for him to swing around to us. There’s a slight chill in the air. It’s enough to make Grace shiver when it sweeps over us so I immediately shrug out of my jacket and place it over her shoulders. Smiling, she murmurs her thanks. I study her profile carefully as she taps one foot on the pavement rapidly.

  “Everything alright?” I finally ask. Usually, she’d be talking my ear off about the happenings of the dinner party.

  “Fine,” is all I get back.

  “Are you sure? Because you should be laughing right now. Don’t tell me you didn’t find me joining in on your little charade funny.” I shrug. “My sense of humor certainly isn’t on par with yours but I thought I was pretty hilarious back there.” That only gets me a quirk of her lips.

  “You were surprisingly very funny. I never expected that from you.”

  “Are you implying that I’m stuck up, Grace?” I tease.

  She finally turns to me with a small smile. “You know very well that I’m not. I only meant that you’re too serious to joke around like that.”

  “Maybe, but not with you. We joke around a lot of times in private.”

  “We do.”

  “Are you going to tell me what you were really doing hiding behind a table?”

  She groans. “You saw that? Oh, God.”

  I shrug, my concern growing. The Grace I know isn’t afraid to laugh at herself. She’d be giggling out an explanation right about now, but her cheeks are flushed and she’s barely looking at me. The car pulls up at our feet and I lift a hand to stop the driver from coming out. I open the door and gesture for Grace to go in.

  Without thought, I slide in a little too close to her and fling an arm around the back of the seat. Grace leans into me. I don’t think she thought much about it either. Instead of pulling away as I should, I settle back and enjoy the heat of her body close to mine.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Grace

  It isn’t until a few minutes after we drive off that I realize that I’m practically in Nick’s arms. When I snuggled so close to him I hadn’t even been conscious of what I was doing. It feels so natural to be close to him that I always let my guard down and do inappropriate things…like touch his arm, hold his hand, kiss him on the cheek or burrow close when he casually drapes an arm over a seat. If I slide away now, it’ll seem way too obvious. Suddenly feeling uncomfortable, I fiddle with the lapels of the jacket still thrown around my shoulders.

  I can feel him looking at me too. Those sharp, cool eyes have probably been reading every expression that’s flickered across my face for the last five minutes. I know he’s about to start demanding answers…because…that’s what he does.

  Seconds later, Nick huffs, “Alright Grace tell me what’s wrong right now.” I turn to him with a grin. “Now you smile? What’s so funny?”

  “You. I just thought that you’d start demanding I tell you what’s wrong and a second later that’s exactly what you do.”

  He scowls but then his features relax and his lips kick up at the corners. “Am I that predictable?”

  “No. I just know you.”

  He goes silent, gazing at me with narrowed eyes for much too long. “So you do,” he says. There’s a huskier note to his voice as his eyes drop to my mouth. My breath catches in my throat. The way he’s looking at me makes me wonder if he’s going to lean in and kiss me. But, he doesn’t. “Just as I know you. So, tell me, what about Richard Henson upset you so much?”

  My heart stops. “You know him?”

  “No. I’ve seen him once or twice,” he shrugs. “I know of anyone who’s anyone in the business world here in New York. I am a corporate lawyer now after all.”

  Of course. “You do remember that I worked for him?”

  “Ah, so I was right. I’d vaguely recalled seeing his name on your resume.”

  And Nick hadn’t called Richard or any of my other references. He’d just taken a chance on me. I’d been relieved because I dreaded the day he would call my former boss, especially since I lied on my application and said I’d resigned. Truth is, I’d been fired. I’ve always thought that applying for the job as Nick’s assistant was fate. The fact that he just gave me the job without any questions or checking my references further emphasized that. Of course, if I told him that, he’d laugh it off and provide some rational explanation. No way would he admit that we were destined to be in each other’s lives.

  “I worked for him a year before you hired me.”

  “Okay…” He turns to me with a frown. “So why did you seem so…uneasy…in his presence? I’d been watching you two for a bit before I intervened.”

  I gulp. “It isn’t so much that I was uneasy…I was more uneasy about you two being in the same room...with me present.”

  Nick’s brows dip. “Like I said, I barely know the guy and he clearly had no idea who I am.”

  “But he would have had something to say if he found out I work for you.”

  “Good things I’m sure. He’d probably be jealous that he lost you to me,” Nick grins. “He wasn’t trying to steal you back, was he?”

  My nervous giggle fills the back of the car as I shift anxiously. “Not exactly.” Considering that I’d really let Richard have it right before he fired me, I doubt he wants to see my face back in his office. His exact words as he kicked me out were “You disrespectful bitch. I’ll make sure you never work in this city again.” That's why I’d lied when I applied for another job. Who knew what Richard would tell my new employer? Of course, threatening to report him to the authorities for his crimes was in no way disrespectful in my opinion, it was the moral thing to do. But to the criminal, Richard Henson, it was major snafu.

  “Why didn’t you introduce us?”

  I sigh. Seven years. I might as well come clean because, well…every now and then my lie weighs on my conscience, especially whenever Nick lets me know he keeps no secrets from me. “Richard Henson is a criminal, Nick. Plain and simple. I mean, I never had any concrete proof because I was a junior secretary. I wasn’t in his inner circle. But, I had sense enough to realize that he wasn’t as straight as he led everyone to believe.”

  “He was a terrible, mean-spirited man—and I’m sure he still is. He never liked me because I tended to call him out on some of his more unsavory activities. Things reached a boiling point. I couldn’t sit back and watch him cheat people out of money and possessions any longer. There was a huge argument and I may have said some...not so nice things…and I threatened to expose him.”

  “That’s horrible. I’m sorry you had to work with someone like that for an entire year.”

  “Me too.” Twisting my hands in my lap, I eye Nick guiltily. “There’s something else.”

  He glances at me expectantly.

  “You know how I told you that I resigned from my former job because I wanted a change?”

  “Uh huh.” He’s staring ahead, peering out the windshield as the vehicle maneuvers through traffic.

  “I lied.”

  He turns to me again with a raised brow.

  “I didn’t resign. I was fired. I lied to you, Nick. For seven years. I’m so sorry. I’ve felt so guilty about that for so long. I almost told you a few times but things were going so good between us I thought, why mar our work relationship with that? But as a friend, I should have said something.” Hand over my heart, I let out a breath. “I’m sorry.”

  Nick continues gaping at me after my rapid confession. What does he think of me now? Slowly a smile forms on his lips and his eyes swirl with laughter. Soon his laughter wraps around me and even the driver glances in the rearview mirror with shock. We use that particular chauffeur a lot and he—like everyone else—sees Nick as a stern, no-nonsense man who can barely crack a smile.

  Still chuckling, he rolls the partition up, giving us privacy. Twisting toward me, he says, “That
really has been bothering you, hasn’t it? Do you feel better after sharing your deep dark secret? I hope you do.”

  I peer at him through my lashes. “Are you teasing me, Nick?”

  “Yes,” he laughs. “Grace, do you really think I’d care whether you quit your former job or got fired? It’s been seven years. You’ve proven yourself to be an asset beyond compare so it’s Henson’s loss and my gain. It really doesn’t matter. Screw him.”

  “You don’t care that I lied? You hate when people lie to you.”

  “Telling a little fib to get a job is nothing. Sounds to me like you’re a stand-up woman for taking Henson on about treating his clients unfairly. I admire that. If you’d told me that back then, you’d still have got the job. Besides, it isn’t like I could have fired you. You hired yourself.”

  A laugh escapes me and I relax, relieved that Nick doesn’t care about my lie. “Right.”

  We both share a laugh over my needless guilt. Sobering, I gaze up at him with open admiration. “That’s why I respect you so much, Nick—the fact that you’re the total opposite of Richard Henson. You always treat everyone fairly. I’ve never seen you compromise your ethics. You always do what’s right. You’re an honorable man.”

  Our eyes meet again and this time he’s serious. “The respect is mutual.”

  I smile. “Oh, and thanks for standing up for me with Betty Orville,” I say wrinkling my nose. “That woman never quits.”

  “I’ll always stand up for you.”

  “I know,” I grin.

  I don’t know how it happened...or maybe I do. There’s always some sexual tension hanging in the air between Nick and I. Sometimes it isn’t staring us in the face because I think we both try to pretend it isn’t there. All I know is that suddenly I’m in Nick’s arms kissing him. I’m not quite sure which one of us initiated the kiss. We were looking at each other and I thought I saw a flicker of something—desire maybe? It was in his eyes…and then my own need surfaced. The next thing I know, we’re in a lip lock.

  Memories of “the incident” (we’ve got to stop calling it that) emerges. It was Nick who first referred to it as “the incident” and that’s what it’s been called the very few times its come up. I can remember the feeling of his mouth on mine...on my lower lips—and every other part of me—like it was yesterday. Every sweet sensation is still clear in my mind. I want to feel all of that again. I want him so much right now I can hardly breathe. Moaning into his mouth, I slide closer and allow him to pull me across his lap.

  One hand cups the back of my neck, holding me in place as he deepens the kiss, and the other finds my thigh through the slit of my dress. He caresses my bare legs and moves closer to the heat pulsating between them. I almost give in and allow him to touch me there...I’ve craved it for so long. But if he does…and the heat rising between us becomes a full blaze, there’ll be no stopping. We should stop. We need to stop. But it’s so tempting to disregard the consequences and live in the moment. Miraculously, I fight through my lustful haze and come to my senses. What are we doing? This is exactly what we decided not to do four years ago.

  “Nick,” I moan against his mouth. “We can’t.”

  He doesn’t seem to hear so I lightly push against his chest. I immediately miss his mouth when he tears it away from mine, but this is the way it has to be. We’re both breathless as I watch him visibly compose himself. Jaws clenched and nostrils flaring, he closes his eyes briefly. Snapping them open, he deposits me on the seat further away from him.

  “I’m sorry, that wasn’t—”

  “Don’t apologize, I kissed you back,” I quickly interrupt.

  Letting out a breath, he runs his fingers through his hair, tousling the black strands. My hands itch to follow his movements. Instead, I pick up my purse and hold on to it for dear life. We’re quiet for the rest of the journey, Nick staring out the window on his side and me staring at the black partition.

  “We’re almost at your place,” he announces absently.

  Blinking, I glance out the window. “Yes.” Removing his jacket from around my shoulders, I hand it to him, ensuring that our fingers don’t touch. “Thanks.”

  “Sure.”

  And there goes that awkwardness again.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Nick

  I almost lost myself and fucked Grace in the back of our chauffeured car last night. If she hadn’t come to her senses and stopped me, that’s definitely what would have happened. After that, I would have taken her back to my place and had her again—nice and slow. All night. I can’t focus on anything today, but she seems to be just fine. She waltzed in wearing a bright smile without a care in the world, handed me my coffee and perched on my desk, ready to chat as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

  I, on the other hand, had a sleepless night after jacking off twice—once under a freezing cold shower, which didn’t help me much. So, I wasn’t too polite this morning due to the sexual frustration, and our usual morning tête-à-tête didn’t go as smoothly. Glaring at her now, sitting at her desk typing away, seemingly unfazed, it irritates me. I’m the one who’s always supposed to be in control, especially of my emotions.

  Look at her with her perfect hair, flawless skin, and cute outfit. All I want to do is call her in here, lock the door and release all of my pent up frustration. But I made a promise that we’d go back to being the regular us after we slept together that one time. Obviously that means not fucking Grace on my desk. That knowledge doesn’t stop me from imagining it though. I can feel my erection growing and I mutter a curse. I didn’t realize I was gripping the pen in my hand so tightly until it snapped into two.

  “Fuck!” I growl as the ink seeps through my fingers and onto the desk, luckily missing the documents I have nearby.

  Grace jumps up and scurries to my office. “Are you okay?” She assesses the scene and hurries to the bathroom, coming back with a wad of wet paper towel. She only makes things worse—for me—when she bends over to start wiping up the spilled ink. The last thing I need to see right now is Grace bent over my desk—her breasts swaying with each movement. Jumping up, I spit out another curse. “Just leave it. I’ll do it,” I snap.

  “No it’s fine, I can—”

  “Grace, just give me the god damn paper towel. I can clean up my own mess.” Our fingers touch when I take the paper towel from her and she sucks in a breath. I freeze to look at her, noting the red patches highlighting her cheeks. She doesn’t meet my stare. Ha! So, she’s been pretending to not be bothered about last night. I feel ridiculously satisfied. “Grace, we need to talk.”

  She gives me an innocent wide-eyed stare. “About what?”

  “Really?”

  She hangs her head with a sigh. “Fine.”

  “Just give me a minute,” I say looking at my ink-covered fingers. “Don’t move,” I warn before disappearing into the bathroom.

  When I come out, I’m pleased to see her sitting at her usual spot on my desk. “If this is about last night—”

  “Of course, it’s about last night,” I scowl. I don’t bother to sit down. Instead, I stand in front of my desk, hovering over her. Bad idea. This is how we start out in one of my office sex fantasies. Dear God. I don’t know how much longer I can take this.

  “I was going to say there’s nothing to discuss.”

  Arms folded—mostly to stop myself from touching her—I scowl. “What? Are we going to just sweep it under the carpet like we did the incident?”

  “Oh, my God, Nick. Can we stop calling it that? Please?”

  Grace’s face is beyond flushed and I can’t hold back my laughter. “Calling it the incident does make it sound terrible. And it wasn’t.”

  “No, it wasn’t, and you started calling it that.”

  After a beat of silence, we both start to laugh. I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone else whom I can sleep with once, stay work partners and friends with, go through years of sexual frustration with and once in a while awkwardness with
because of our mutual attraction, almost have sex with again, be incredibly irritated with because of her antics and laugh with in the same breath. What am I saying? I haven’t met anyone else who I can go through all of that with and still want in my life. Grace is special and I can’t afford to lose her.

  So, I don’t bother saying what I’d planned to. I was going to tell her to cut the crap and let’s stop pretending that we both don’t want to go another night or two in the sack...or even right here on the desk. Maybe if we have enough sex, we’ll both get our attraction for each out of our systems and finally be at peace. I gaze at her for a while. No, she deserves better than that. I know she’ll want more than I can give her.

  Instead, sighing, I say, “Last night shouldn’t have happened. I’m sorry.”

  “I told you—”

  “I know, I don’t have to apologize, but I feel like I need to for us to move on...again.”

  “Nick—”

  There’s a knock on our door and Grace jumps. She hops off my desk and straightens her pencil skirt. “I wonder who that could be? You don’t have any appointments for the next two hours.”

  She marches out, pulling my door closed and I know that’s the end of our discussion about last night. Scrubbing a hand over my face, I plop down behind my desk. A minute later my phone rings. It’s Grace’s line.

  “Yes, Grace?”

  “Mr. Parker, the partners would like to speak with you.”

  I smirk. Obviously, they’re standing right beside her or she wouldn’t be calling me Mr. Parker. “All three?”

  “Yes.”

  “Send them in.” I wait anxiously, wondering what this impromptu meeting with all three partners is about.

  Grace opens the door and in files Walter Davis, Conrad Michael and Mike Porter. She gives me a reassuring smile before disappearing. I stare at the three older men with raised brows. “Please sit, gentlemen.”

  “No need, this won’t take long,” says Mike Porter, the oldest of the three. I think he’s retiring this year. So I heard.