The NYCE Girls!

by Raquel Belle

  I smile and it turns into laughter because Grace is laughing and I’m relieved to see her mood change. Her face lights up and she looks like herself now. “Fine, it’s kind of funny. Since you know what I was struggling to say, why don’t you tell me what’s up?”

  Sobering, she lets out a breath and steps closer. I watch her bypass the chair and take her usual spot on the edge of my desk, and with that gesture I feel like all is right with the world. I release a breath and sit back, my full attention on her.

  “I had a rough weekend and it isn’t because of Friday night,” she says before I can ask. “I had to go home on Saturday. As soon as I left your place and got to my apartment, I received a troubling phone call. It was my older brother, Lucas, telling me that Dad had an accident. I freaked out.”

  “Is he okay?”

  I met John Peterson once—along with Grace’s older brothers, Lucas and Dante. It was six years ago when Grace felt sorry for me because I was spending Christmas alone. She was adamant that she wouldn’t enjoy the holiday knowing I was holed up in my apartment alone on Christmas like a ‘better-looking Grinch.’ I laughed at being called a version of the Grinch of course. I mean, it wasn’t that far from the truth. Although I’ve never gone on a mission to steal Christmas, I can be cynical and grumpy at times.

  I gave in and joined her family in Long Island for dinner. I like John, even though he glared at me throughout the entire dinner as if he knew I wanted to defile his daughter—who was twenty-two at the time. Perceptive man. He’d probably caught me a few times subtly eyeing Grace’s cleavage and her ass every time she walked in the opposite direction.

  “He’s fine. He suffered a few broken fingers. It happened at the garage. He was working on some truck. I was told not to worry, but you know me—that’s when I start to worry even more. I ran home and I didn’t get back until late last night. I was exhausted and I woke up late and had to grab the first thing I got my hands on from my closet. And I knew I had to do some running to get here on time so I slipped on a pair of flats. You’re right, I don’t look like myself today. I look dull and I feel the same way.” She blows out an exaggerated breath, her shoulders drooping.

  I give her the most severe glower I can muster. She’d gone through all of that over the weekend and not once did she call me. “You could have told me, I would have given you the day off for Christ’s sake. You didn’t have to rush home last night. You could have stayed with your family.” Since when does she feel like she can’t ask me for a personal day? “And you didn't even call me to tell me about your father. Usually, you would have. I might have even gone home with you.”

  “I know. I just didn’t—”

  “Want to talk to me because of what happened Friday night?”

  We stare at each other for a while, me gritting my teeth and Grace wearing a scowl. After a while, she admits, “That was one of the reasons,” and my shoulders droop much like hers had. There have been a few times in my life when I’ve run for so long on automatic, just going through the motions, that I forget that I have feelings. I’ve just been reminded that I do. Knowing that she had deliberately avoided me—that she didn’t even want to see me or speak to me―it really stings. I’m reminded how much I value the friendship we’ve forged.

  Swallowing, I nod—I have to play it tough though. I have a reputation to maintain. “What are the other reasons?”

  She looks away. “They’re not important.”

  “Come on, don’t start holding back now. We’ve always been able to talk. Let’s make an effort to keep the same energy.”

  “That’s impossible at this point and you know it.”

  “Fine. Some of the same energy. The part where we’re not afraid to be honest with each other. ”

  Grace throws her hands up. “Since I know you won’t quit, okay. I felt bad about Friday night. I left because I was upset and I didn’t want to talk to you. I just wanted to be alone. I didn’t call you when I was heading home to see my father because I knew you’d drop everything and come along. And I think...I think it’s time that I learn to stop needing your friendship so much. You know...just in case.”

  Speechless, I can only stare in amazement at her. How many times has it been that Grace has rendered me momentarily mute? Twice now? The first time was seven years ago during our version of a job interview. I snap out of my stupor when she begins gnawing at her fingernails and mutters, “You told me to be honest.”

  “So I did.” Rubbing my chin, I keep my eyes on her, all the while struggling with my mixture of emotions. Hurt. Disbelief. Fear. But she would never know that I’m feeling all those things. I can’t let her know. “Just in case of what?”

  “In case our affair blows up in our faces. I know you said it wouldn’t if we kept it purely sexual, but you never know what can happen.”

  Okay, it’s now three times that Grace has rendered me speechless. No one else has ever accomplished that feat. I always know what to say. But right now, I have absolutely nothing.

  “You’re angry,” she sighs.

  “I…” Clearing my throat, I shift in my chair and sit taller. It takes me a moment to compose myself. “I’m not. I’m just surprised to discover what’s been going through your head. You’ve actually been preparing yourself for the worst to happen between us. That makes me feel…” God, how does that make me feel? I think about it for a few seconds. “As if I’ve failed you as a friend.”

  Grace makes a sound that’s sort of like either a gasp or a scoff. I can’t tell which, I just know that she’s shocked by the way she swings her head to me, nearly toppling off of my desk. Her eyes are the size of saucers. “What? No. You’ve been a great friend and you’ve gone above and beyond as a boss. Why would that even cross your mind?”

  “You obviously don’t trust me. I don’t know if you never did or if you’ve lost that trust along the way. I failed you because I haven’t shown you enough that I’d be fair to you no matter what happens between us…so you don’t have to prepare yourself for the worst.” Anger, overshadows my dismay and I bite out, “And we’re not having an affair. The word affair makes it sound so sordid, and it’s far from that.”

  In a swift motion that has me sitting back abruptly, Grace jumps up and turns to me, her face flushed, her eyes gleaming with fury and her chest heaving. I’ve never seen her like this before and I have to wonder what in the name of bipolar is going on. She was calm just a second ago and her rapid mood swing might have given me whiplash. What comes out of her mouth shocks me even more.

  “Well, affair sounds a hell of a lot better than to say we’re just fucking, doesn’t it, Nicholas?” She wheels around and stomps out of my office before my brain can properly process what just happened.

  I’m aware that I’m staring at the door with my mouth hanging open, but I can’t do anything else. It’s now four times since Grace has left me incapable of words. She’s really on a roll.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Grace

  The floating conversation and sounds of the coffee shop have been reduced to a low buzzing in my head. I’ve zoned out again, and it’s hard to hear anything over the thoughts racing through my head. I’ve lost my freaking mind. I’ve finally tipped over the edge—crossed the line between sanity and insanity. I must be bat-shit crazy with the way I spoke to Nick this morning. I don’t know what happened. One minute I was calm. As calm as I could be considering the uncomfortable conversation we were having, and then I snapped.

  “Grace, you’re the reason we’re all here and you’ve barely said a word since we arrived.” Beth has a lock of her hair curled around a finger as she looks fixedly at me. “What’s up?”

  “Yeah, you’re way too quiet,” Jazz says, tapping her fingers on the table, her eyes scrunched as if she’s trying to see through me.

  Cara remains quiet and just stares at me like she’s been doing since she arrived. The girls are indeed here because I requested it. I called each of them, asking if they wanted to hang out at our
spot after work. We don’t usually hit up our coffee shop on Wednesday evenings, but I didn’t want to go home, and I definitely didn’t want to be alone.

  Finally, Cara asks what I know she’s been gearing up to ask for a while…with a tone that let’s me know it’s time to spill. “What happened?”

  “I slept with Nick,” I blurt out.

  “We know,” Cara shrugs.

  “No, I mean. I’ve been sleeping with him...a lot. We’ve been having casual sex for the past three weeks—since our trip to Paris.” The words tumble out because I’ve been keeping them inside for so long and now the dam’s finally broke.

  Three pairs of wide eyes are locked on me and it takes everything I have not to slump down in my seat and slide under the table to hide. “Somebody say something.”

  “Casual sex,” Beth repeats, as if she’s trying to wrap her head around it. “Is that even possible between you two?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I just thought you two had feelings for each other. Casual sex just sounds...I don’t know…very unlike you and Nick.”

  “Apparently it’s possible. He insists that’s all it is.” I hope I don’t sound too bitter.

  “But, there’s something more between you two. I know there is.”

  I glance at a bewildered Beth, suddenly feeling even more forlorn. “Yeah, sometimes I think that too, and then he says something to indicate otherwise. I don’t know, I’m so confused sometimes.”

  Jazz blows out a breath. “It would be stupid of me to ask if you’re okay, because clearly you’re not. Why didn’t you tell us before now?”

  Head hung, I stare at my cup of Caramel Macchiato. It doesn’t even taste good to me right now. I have no appetite whatsoever. “I guess I was ashamed to admit that I...settled.”

  Cara sighs, “Oh, Grace. You know you can tell us anything. We’d never judge.”

  “I know. It isn’t the first time this has happened so I really didn’t want to bring it up.”

  “What’s changed?” She asks.

  “For one, I was about to burst, keeping it to myself and two, I totally messed up today and I needed comfort. This is comforting,” I breathe, “sitting here with you girls.”

  Jazz smiles and nudges me gently with a shoulder. “Good. We’re always here for you.”

  They really are. When I asked them to meet me here, no one hesitated even though they must all be tired after work. I glance out the window, into the darkening sky. I’ll have to let them all go home soon, but first I need to vent. Cara provides the perfect opening for me to dive in when she asks, “So, what do you mean you messed up today?”

  Glancing around the table at each expectant face, I begin. “Let me give you guys a little background info first. After Paris, I let myself fall into a friends with benefits type thing with Nick—I guess it can be called that, the fact that I work for him aside. Things were going okay for a while. Admittedly, I’ve been having fun―you know when I put aside the fact that I’m setting myself up for heartbreak.” Cara gives me a reprimanding glare and I shrug. “What? The sex is great. Amazing. I’m weak okay? Arrest me.”

  She sighs while Jazz and Beth try to smother their chuckles behind their hands. “I totally get it,” Jazz says.

  “You do?” Beth and I say in unison and Cara gives Jazz a surprised glance.

  “I haven’t been a prude my entire life,” she scoffs, folding her arms defensively. “You were saying Grace?”

  “Gosh, Jazz, you can’t say something like that and not drop a story or two.”

  “This evening is about you, and dropping stories is your thing, not mine.”

  “You won’t even tell one to make your bestie feel better?” I pout.

  “Nice try,” she snorts and reaches for her cup with a slight smile.

  Disappointed, I huff and continue with the saga of my casual affair with Nick. “As I was saying, things were going pretty smoothly until we got into it one night. I realized that continuing something casual with him is dangerous.”

  “Of course it is,” Beth huffs. “You think we don’t know the extent of your feelings for him? Which you’ve been suppressing for way too long by the way. That’s not healthy.”

  Yeah, it’s no secret—I’ve whined about it enough to them. “That’s why I started thinking that maybe I should distance myself from him a little, which is hard to do considering that I’m his assistant. I see him day-in and day-out. During a particularly difficult discussion this morning, I snapped at him and stormed out of his office.” It’s unnerving even talking about it. I’d almost blurted out that I was going to quit too, but held my tongue. “I was so unprofessional, and I’m still so embarrassed.”

  Cara leans forward. “It couldn’t have been that bad.”

  “I think it was. If it were anyone but Nick, I would have probably been fired.”

  “Did you two work things out at least?” Jazz inquires.

  “Nope.” After the incident, I stood outside his door, shaking with anger and disbelief about how I’d reacted. I was just so furious that he appeared so calm when I was struggling with my thousands of emotions. Then, he’d had the nerve to turn things around and make me feel guilty with his whole bit about him not being a good friend. It wasn’t fair! Damn his annoying ability to be so composed. “I didn’t have the courage to face him so I simply went on with work. Can you believe it? I sat at my desk and carried out my duties as if I hadn’t just shouted at my boss and stormed out.”

  “And he didn’t say anything to you?” Beth’s inquiry rings with amazement.

  “Not a thing. He just went on with the day as well. I think he just decided not to stir the pot. I mean, we’ve been having way too many spats lately.” The atmosphere had sizzled with underlying tension of course, but we did what we always do—we got work done.

  “I’m assuming you’re going to face the music tomorrow?”

  I pout at Cara. “Only because it’s the adult thing to do.”

  Her lips twitch at the corners. “It is. I wouldn’t worry too much, you and Nick have a weird way of always pulling through and remaining great partners.”

  Partners. If only the word partner referred to something deeper than our working relationship, but it never will. I want to be more than Nick’s reliable assistant―more than his friend. It’s high time I focused on achieving what I want my future to be. A meaningful relationship. A family of my own. And then there’s the issue of the career I’d set aside. With a sigh, I decide not to bring any of that up with the girls. I don’t want them to know that I’m considering resigning from my job just yet―not until I know for sure what I’m going to do.

  “I bet you guys are dying to get home. Thank you so much for coming. I feel better already.”

  “We can stay a little longer, right girls?” Cara looks at Jazz and Beth who quickly agree.

  “As long as you want, Grace,” Jazz says.

  “We can order more drinks.”

  “No, it’s okay” I sigh. As much as I’d like that, I can see the light drizzle through the window. “We should all get going before it starts to pour.”

  There’s a hum of agreement as they turn to look outside. I’m dreading going home to sit alone in my apartment. I know I’m going to think way too much and drive myself crazy.

  ***

  I don’t make it home before the downpour and when I step out of the elevator on my floor, I’m soaking wet. “Perfect ending to my crappy day.” Shoulders slumped and feet dragging, I round the corner to my apartment and freeze when I see Nick standing by the door. He’s leaned against the wall with his hands in his pockets. He must’ve stopped home to change because he’s wearing jeans. I always like seeing him look casual and laid back like this.

  But this is probably the one time I’m not happy to see him. Now I’m forced to face him and apologize tonight rather than tomorrow. I haven’t gotten over my horror and embarrassment yet, and I had looked forward to having tonight to practice an apology. Seconds t
ick by without a word or a movement from either of us.

  He scans me from head to toe with a slight frown and murmurs, “You got caught in the rain.”

  “Unfortunately.” I shrug. “I’ll live.” I don’t even want to imagine how bedraggled I look. I wish I had known he was coming by. “What are you doing here?”

  He remains in his relaxed stance, which is surprising because I can imagine that he isn’t happy about my outburst today. “I always stop by.”

  It’s true, but he hasn’t done so in recent months. “You haven’t in a while.”

  “Because you’re always at my place,” he says with a tiny smile.

  I don’t know why that makes me feel hot in the face all of a sudden. It could be because every time I’ve been to his place in the last few weeks, I’ve been in his bed. Is that what he’s alluding to? “I wish you’d called to tell me you were coming. I would have come home sooner. How long have you been waiting? And why didn’t you let yourself in?” He has access to my place just like I have access to his. Now that I really think about it, we’ve never acted like employer and employee―since day one.

  He scratches a brow and lets out a breath. “I could have but I didn’t think you’d appreciate it considering the climate between us right now. It doesn’t matter how long I’ve been here. I would have waited all night if had to.”

  “Oh.” Yeah, because he wants to lecture me about the way I spoke to him today. Recalling my crazy outburst has heat creeping up my my neck. God, how embarrassing. Gazing at him, I try futilely to gauge just how angry he is. I can’t tell a thing. His face betrays nothing. That’s good, I guess. I hope. Maybe the lecture won’t be as severe. It’s funny how I feel like a misbehaved kid called in to the principal’s office, awaiting my punishment. If I didn’t feel so awful about the whole thing, I would have laughed it off.

  Out of pure nervousness, I dive into an apology without further thought. “About today, how I behaved. I’m so sorry. It was unprofessional and it won’t happen a—”