Beauty Awakened

by Allyson Lindt

  But he was wallowing in self-pity, because for the first time in years, he was spending the holiday alone. Even when Tara was still with Marco, Nathan worked for Bianchi International, and had co-worker friends around him.

  And Tara. She was there from the day they met, regardless of whether she and Nathan were a couple.

  Why had he come here again? I had to know no longer seemed like a good reason.

  Mostly because knowing sucks.

  He shut off the Television. If he heard a bell ring one more fucking time... Well, he didn’t know what he was going to do, but it wouldn’t be pretty.

  It would be nice to see a new video of Tara—except not in her current mindset. He missed seeing the old her, onscreen as well as off. The holiday break was a good thing, when it came to that. Their channel views were dropping. People were asking where he was. And the snide comments about Tara not being able to keep a man ran rampant.

  It had been days since he drew, maybe that would help. He had his laptop, but wasn’t in the mood to create digitally, and he’d left home in such a hurry that he didn’t have any sketch paper with him.

  He could use the hotel paper and pen. It wasn’t a big enough surface. There was a drugstore down the street that was open even for the holiday. He’d trudge down there—a walk in the icy snow would numb his mind if it didn’t clear it—and share some smiles with the people who had to work.

  He was pulling on his coat and gloves when his phone rang. He ripped off one glove, wincing at the faint tearing noise, and fumbled for the device. The skip of his heart behind his ribs hoped for a late-night-early-morning Christmas call from Tara.

  His aunt’s name flashed on the screen.

  “Yeah,” he answered flatly.

  A sob greeted him, and he winced.

  “You may not care, I don’t blame you after what happened, but I thought you should know, your father passed away about two hours ago.”

  “Thanks.” He disconnected without waiting for a reply. His arm dropped limply to his side, and his phone dropped to the mattress.

  There was the numbness. Merry fucking Christmas.

  Chapter Six

  Nick had always been a morning person, but in the week or so since he got home, his waking up early had reached new extremes. He was getting up by two or three, and couldn’t keep his eyes open past eight at night.

  His need to fall back into a regular here routine warred with the desire to not completely adjust to this time zone.

  Why was he even pretending anymore? As soon as things were in a reasonable state here, he was going back there. To finish up business.

  To see Tara.

  This afternoon he needed the coffee brewing. It was Christmas Eve, and he fully intended to enjoy the evening with Fiona, Parker, and he might even like Wyatt’s company.

  In past years, the tradition was to spend Christmas morning together, and sometimes Parker would make it by that afternoon.

  This year Fiona wanted the day for her guys. Nick didn’t blame her, but nostalgia missed the way things were.

  His phone chimed. The screen said it was their office building landlord. He answered. “This is Nick Walters.”

  “Nick, hey. Mike Cooper. How are you?”

  “I’m good. You?” Nick could make small talk all day, but his curiosity would rather he didn’t.

  Mike’s laugh was nervous. “Great. Listen, sorry to call you so close to the holiday, but I’m hoping to go into tomorrow with good news for everyone.”

  “I like good news.” Though, what was good for Nick may not be the same as what was good for the guy he leased a building from.

  “I understand from your sales manager that you’ve temporarily got your employees working from home?”

  Wyatt had gotten chatty? It meant he thought he was doing the right thing, but Nick didn’t like the other man being so open with their business affairs. “We’ve made arrangements until we can find a new place.”

  “Which is why I’m calling. You’ve been great tenants, and I’d hate to lose you. Your office space will be inhabitable in less than two months. If you’re willing to stay, I’ll give you the next six months rent free. That’s in addition to any time you’re not inhabiting the office, I won’t knock these next two off the six total.”

  That sounded way too good to be true. “We’re not that great as tenants.”

  “You pay your rent, we don’t get complaints, and this is less expensive for me than trying to get new people in there.”

  That made sense, but it still felt to easy. “What’s the fine print?”

  “You sign a lease for another year once your six months are up.”

  “It’s a deal.” Nick didn’t have an issue with that. It meant he didn’t need to worry about whether or not to find a new place.

  It means going back to Tara sooner.

  Wow, he had it bad.

  “That’s fantastic. I’ll email the renewal over, and as long as the terms look good to you, we’re in business. Merry Christmas.”

  “Thanks. You too.” Nick felt lighter than he had in days as he disconnected. He wanted to think it was all work related. The teasing fantasies of being back in Italy, greeting Tara with a long kiss... Stripping each other down... Spending a couple of days in bed, catching up... They all insisted otherwise.

  Desire threaded through his thoughts, summoning memories of the last few months. He dragged his fingers up his thigh in time with phantom touches. If he closed his eyes, he could hear the whisper of Tara’s sighs. Feel her hot breath on his skin.

  He glided his hand higher, as his cock strained against his zipper. In his mind, lips wrapped around his shaft. He wasn’t sure who was giving and who was watching.

  A groan tore from his throat. He stroked himself through his jeans, drawing out the tease. Flitting through his imagination.

  The rattle of keys outside jarred him from the daydream.

  Nick pushed the thoughts aside, adjusted himself, and straightened on the couch just as Fiona walked in with Parker and Wyatt.

  “Sorry we’re late.” She dropped her keys in her purse.

  All three of them carried plastic bags. Fiona nodded. “You both know where the kitchen is.”

  Parker headed in that direction.

  Wyatt paused to study Nick. “Did we interrupt something?”

  “Nope.” Nick cut the word off too fast.

  Fiona grabbed Wyatt’s arm. “It’s his apartment. I don’t want details about what he does alone in here. Last time I asked, he was watching a DOTA tournament.”

  “It was League of Legends,” Nick corrected her. That was months ago, but it felt like another lifetime. Or he was being melodramatic.

  Fiona pushed Wyatt toward the kitchen. “We brought dinner,” she said to Nick. “And presents.” She held up the bag she was carrying.

  “Don’t worry. We left the battery-operated gifts at home,” Wyatt called from the other room.

  Pink dotted Fiona’s cheeks, and a tiny smirk played on her lips.

  Nick held up his hands. “I don’t want details any more than you do.” Was that going to be a theme with them now? He hoped the joke would get old. For now though, it had effectively killed his erection. “But speaking of good news—”

  “No we weren’t.” Fiona set one prettily-wrapped box after another on the coffee table. “But I like the rapid shift in subject, and I like good news.”

  The mood in the room helped lift his mood further. “We’re going to keep the offices in the same building. They’re giving us a great deal, and they’ll get us back in faster than we can get someplace else.”

  “Seriously?” Fiona all-but squealed. That was a brighter reaction than he expected. “So we can go back to work-life as normal? No shopping around? No hanging around here?”

  “What’s wrong with here?” Nick gave her an exaggerated pout, despite feeling the same way.

  “Nothing, right now. In about two days I’d have been here alone. Now I can head to Seatt
le with Wyatt and Parker.”

  A movement behind her caught his attention, and he realized Parker and Wyatt were setting the table and laying out the food they’d brought. “Do you guys need help?”

  “We’ve got it.” Wyatt waved him off.

  This was taking some getting used to, but in a much better way than Nick expected. He looked at Fiona again. “What’s in Seattle? Besides the obvious.”

  “Wyatt’s got a series of business contacts he’s been upselling this hot new software system to.”

  “It’s sweeping the country. Everyone who’s anyone is implementing it,” Wyatt called.

  Nick couldn’t hide his surprise. He knew Wyatt was working sales angles—he’d seen the results of the one-off contacts—but he’d let the other man do his job. “That sounds fantastic.”

  They continued to chat as they ate.

  The conversation continued as they moved back into the living room to open gifts. Fiona sat between Parker and Wyatt, the three looking completely at-ease with the arrangement.

  For the first time since getting home, Nick felt like his schedule wasn’t completely shot. It was nearly eleven thirty at night, and he was still wide awake.

  Parker squeezed Fiona’s knee. “We should get going.” He stood and Wyatt joined him.

  “I’m going to hang out here a little longer, if Nick is okay with that,” Fiona said.

  Nick shrugged. “Of course. Where are they going?”

  “Midnight Mass at The Cathedral of The Madeleine.” Wyatt pulled on his coat.

  Nick knew Parker was Catholic but, “I didn’t realize either of you practiced.”

  “We don’t,” Parker said. “But it’s one of those awe-inspiring moments, and the cathedral itself is stunning since the restoration.”

  Fiona joined them long enough to give each of them a deep kiss. “I’ll see you at home.”

  And with that, the guys were gone.

  “Do you need a ride?” Nick was surprised she hadn’t asked.

  “No. We took separate cars. I wasn’t planning on going with them, and since Wyatt has his here now, it’s not a big deal.”

  Why did Wyatt bring his vehicle to Utah? He didn’t spend time here any more than any other place, as far as Nick knew.

  Fiona settled back on the couch. “Spill. This may be your last chance before we go our separate ways again. What’s in Italy that you can’t wait to get back to?”

  “You already know that. It’s business, and this could be bigger than the deal with Rinslet.”

  She shifted on the couch to tuck her legs under her, and leaned her arm on the back. “You can wrap things up from here. I was in on those conference calls. Long-distance deals aren’t an issue for our company or theirs. What’s in Italy?”

  “Milan. Vatican City. Some gorgeous ancient architecture. Art.” Nick wasn’t making this situation any better. He wanted to tell Fiona. Get her perspective. Stop keeping the secret. But the threads attached to this entire story made him hesitate.

  She raised her brows. “Any specific kind of art? The Last Supper? The kind that means you get a custom tattoo—your first—from one of the hottest talents on the on the internet?”

  “Maybe.” He shook his head with a snort.

  She tilted her head and searched his face. “You’re going back to see... Tara and Nathan?”

  Guilt nudged his senses. It wasn’t that he’d forgotten about Nathan, but he’d used the fight with Tara as an excuse to consider him not currently in the picture. “Last I heard, he’s in Chicago.”

  “That explains the shitty videos recently.”

  Nick clenched his jaw. “That’s not her fault. She’s struggling with a lot you don’t see on camera. You’ve lived that. Don’t cast shade on her.”

  “I’m not blaming anyone. She’d agree with me. Does her boyfriend know you’re crushing on her? Does her brother?”

  “Yes.” Nick suspected Fiona saw more than she was saying. She was scary perceptive. “It’s complicated.”

  “Is it?” Fiona’s tone went flat and so did her expression.

  He was about to eat some serious shit for this. Things were getting back to normal between them, but what Nick said to her when he found out about Wyatt. And the many times after that it came up... “No. It’s really not. I slept with her. And Nathan. More than once.”

  Fiona laughed. “You’re—” She held up a finger as another round of giggling burst out, and she kept laughing.

  Yup. This was fantastic. Not. She wasn’t yelling, though. That was better than he’d done in her shoes. “Let me know when you’re done.”

  “Oh, this isn’t going away for a long time.” She finally brought herself under control, dragging the back of her hand across her cheeks to clear away a few tears. “You fucked her. Our business partner’s sister. And her boyfriend. Wait. Did you actually fuck both of them, or did you make him watch?”

  Nick hadn’t wanted the details of Fiona’s sex life any more than he was willing to share his. “Do you really want me to answer that?”

  “Nah. I’m going to be the bigger person here. I won’t go on about how your fetish might get our business in trouble. I’m not going to ask why you let some kink threaten everything we’ve worked for—”

  “In my defense, Tara wasn’t trying to sabotage us.” That may not mean much, but it was something. He’d take whatever he could.

  Fiona sighed and straightened on the couch. “I could go on for a couple more hours. I haven’t forgotten any of it.”

  “But you’re going to be the bigger person?” He already knew the answer. And it was another reason he adored his sister.

  “Yes. But you don’t deserve it. And when I tell Wyatt—”

  Nick hadn’t seen that bit coming. He grabbed a loose ribbon from a pile of discarded gift-wrapping, and twisted it around his finger. “There’s no reason to do that.” Because then Nick would actually never hear the end of it. “Look, it’s not serious. Tara and Nathan have this kind of open, poly thing—she explains it much better than I would—and I was a part of that for a little while.”

  “But you’re flying back to Italy to see her again. That’s an expensive booty call.”

  Anger flared in Nick at the term, and he swallowed it. She was baiting him. “That’s not what it is.”

  “Do you know what it is?” Fiona’s tone softened. “You said they’re fighting. Are you hoping if you get your foot in the door while he’s not there, you can push them apart?”

  No. Fuck no. Was he? No. “They were together before I got there, and once they make things right, they’ll be together again. I don’t have any delusions about that.”

  “Then why are you going to Italy?”

  “Why the fuck do you care?” The question came out more harshly than Nick intended. He winced when Fiona frowned. “I don’t mean that. I know why you care. I’m sorry.”

  “Do you know why you’re going back?” She scooted to the end of the couch, bringing her closer. She rested her feet on the floor and her elbows on her knees.

  “To do some business and to be there for a friend.” Even he didn’t buy that. So what was the real answer? On the surface, it was obvious, but there was no future with Tara. He wasn’t interested in long-distance, and he doubted she was either.

  Fiona twisted her mouth. “A friend you’re fucking and falling for?”

  He stopped himself short of asking What do you know about it? “She’s miserable without Nathan. They were friends for years even before they were together. I’m not trying to come between them, I just want...” Except he still couldn’t say.

  “You want... to see them happy together again?”

  Nick knew Fiona was intelligent. Observant. Quick-witted. He didn’t expect this. The world was lucky she was a programmer and not a cop or a salesman. “Yeah, of course. But what am I supposed to do about that?”

  “I don’t know.” Fiona’s shrug was exaggerated. “What needs to be done? Do you think if I fight with Wyatt o
r Parker, that the other one of them sits back and says not my problem?”

  Honestly, he tried to think about it as little as possible. “This isn’t the same. The three of you are together.”

  “Do you want it to be the same?”

  Yes. That was easier to admit than he’d made it out to be in his head. He did want it to be the same. “I don’t know how it can be. There’s literally an ocean and two half-continents between us.”

  “So she and Nathan aren’t the only ones with issues to work out.”

  How did Fiona make this sound so simple? It wasn’t. Was it? Nick didn’t know anymore.

  “I’ve said my piece.” Fiona stood. “You’ve always been there for me... except for that one time I’m still not letting you forget. I want to see you happy. I can tell you what works for us. I can give you a little hint as to what I’d be thinking in Tara’s shoes. I can’t make up your mind for you, though.”

  “Thanks.” How was Nick supposed to figure this out?

  Chapter Seven

  Tara made her thanks and apologies Christmas morning, to head back to her place. She was torn between not wanting to be alone, and needing some time to herself.

  Antonio insisted it was all right if she stayed, but she wasn’t the only one who needed space to process what happened.

  She walked through the front door, into the dark tattoo parlor, and despair gripped her, squeezing until she couldn’t breathe. They’d never use that reception desk again. The art on the walls would come down. The brand new window would feature someone else’s sign and curtains.

  This place they’d worked so hard to build, that held so much of both her and Nathan, was no more. It was like standing in a tomb.

  She headed upstairs. It wasn’t much better. She’d never gotten around to hanging Christmas lights or putting up a tree. Nathan’s scent clung to everything.

  Tara headed into the guest bedroom, rather than face everything out there. There were memories here, but the most recent ones were of Nick insisting he sleep in here, because he didn’t want to keep them awake, while he recovered from an allergy attack.