Tears flowed freely down her face as she unlocked her apartment door. Only the dingy walls in the tiny space greeted her. She walked into her bedroom and sat down on her bed. Her journal sat on the nightstand and she picked it up.
The warn leather cover, smooth with years of age, felt cool under her fingertips. She opened it and skimmed over the child-like handwriting.
I hate my father. He’s so mean. He promised he would take me to the zoo today, but he spent so long at work that he didn’t make it back in time. I had to stay at home and clean my room because grandmother made me. I’m so mad right now.
She flipped the page and read another entry.
Derek and I played checkers today. He totally cheated and I lost. What a jerk.
The rest of the entries she read were similar. A child complaining about everything that made her mad. It was a whole lot of whining.
She blinked, stunned. How had she never seen that before? Instead of writing the injustice of today in her journal, she stood, walked to the trash and tossed it in. She was done with her book of pain. Derek was right. She needed to let go of her anger. It hadn’t done her any good over the years.
She slipped off her shoes and crawled into her bed, hugging Larry to her chest. Why did she even bring that unicorn to New York? All it did was remind her of Derek. Everything reminded her of him, and how he was no longer in her life.
An emptiness filled her, and she moaned. Job hunting could happen another day. All she wanted to do was go back to sleep.
Chapter 30
Derek leaned back in his office chair; his eyes strained from staring at the computer screen for too long. He’d been working long hours since the day Nara had driven off in that stupid cab. Mr. Claymore had announced his plans to retire and turn the company over to Derek, and there had been a lot to do.
But, if he were being honest with himself, he was still at work at six o’clock on a Friday not because he had so much work, but because he didn’t want to go home to his empty house. The house that should have been his and Nara’s for the next two years.
He’d been such a coward the day she left. He should have told her how he felt. Brielle had been right all along. He was just too chicken to say the words. And now she was gone from his life once again.
Only this time it hurt so much worse, because he’d almost had her.
Maybe that was an exaggeration. He’d almost had her as his pretend wife for two years. But he didn’t blame her father for going back on his plan. He wanted to have a better relationship with his daughter, and from what Richard had said, things were better between them. At least she talked with him now on a regular basis.
Derek rubbed his eyes. He should go home. He just didn’t want to. Was it terrible that he hadn’t washed the pillowcase Nara had used? Was it creepy that he found he could still smell the scent of her on it, if he closed his eyes and breathed in deep?
His phone rang, the loud screeching sound of his ringtone. He made a mental note to change it. All it did was remind him of the time in the jacuzzi with Nara. He frowned and stabbed at the answer button.
“Hello?”
“Derek. I’m sorry to call on a Friday evening. I hope you didn’t have plans.”
“No. I’m actually still at work.”
“Oh. I’m glad I didn’t interrupt. I need to talk to you. I can’t get ahold of Nara.”
Alarm shot through him. What was wrong with Nara? Was she okay? He sat up in his chair. “What happened?”
“I called her on Monday, and she answered, but sounded really funny. Depressed, which isn’t like her at all. She told me something bad happened at work and now she was out of a job, and possibly a career.”
Derek pressed the phone to his ear, his heart working overtime. “Did she say what happened?”
Mr. Claymore sighed. “Yes. She said she found out her boss had been stealing designs from her over the last few years. I guess the one she entered in the contest was one of them. They disqualified her for plagiarism.”
Shock rang through him. “Plagiarism? What?”
“I know. It’s very upsetting, but when she told me, she just seemed kind of listless. I don’t know how to describe it other than that. It worried me, because she’s such a fighter. I thought maybe she’d snap out of it, get mad, and figure out how to get her designs back. But I’ve been calling over the last few days, and she hasn’t been answering.”
Derek stood, unable to sit in his chair any longer. He paced the room which was suddenly too hot. “You don’t think she’d do anything…rash…do you?”
“I don’t think so. But I also never thought she’d give up. She sounded so defeated on the phone. I got worried today, so I called the building manager. He lives on the bottom floor and he said he hasn’t seen her coming and going like he normally does. Derek, I don’t know what to do.”
He couldn’t even imagine Nara in such a depression. It broke his heart. “I’ll go check on her.” The words flew out without him thinking about it.
“You’d do that?”
In a heartbeat. He grabbed his briefcase and began shoving files in. “Of course.”
“I’ll call the jet service. I’ll book a fight tonight.”
“Thanks,” he said, already out the door. “I’ll go pack.”
Nara moaned and rolled over, the haze of sleep still shrouding her. Had there been a noise that woke her? She listened as she lay on her couch, her thick bedspread and all the blankets she owned over her. No other sounds came. Whatever it had been, it was silent now.
She shivered, despite the weight of the blankets. It was so cold in her apartment, but she had to conserve her money, so she’d turned down the heat. It wasn’t too bad when she was up and around, but lately she’d lost all interest in doing anything. Her life sucked. Period.
To be honest, she wasn’t even sure what day it was. The sink was a pile of dirty dishes. She didn’t even know when the last time she’d eaten was. All she knew was that she was never going to know the joy of seeing her designs in the store, at least, with her name on them.
A bitter taste flowed into her mouth, and she swallowed it back. She’d done more research on her designs. Chelsea had been busy. She’d found fifteen more of her designs that were now copyrighted to various subsidiary design companies.
She was such an idiot. She thought if she gave her ideas to Chelsea, that her boss would hire her as a designer. But why would she do that if she could get the designs for the small price of a personal assistant? Nara had been so willing to just give them to her. Over, and over, apparently.
Someone buzzed her door and she groaned and pulled her blanket over her head. Was that the noise that had awakened her? “Go away,” she mumbled, even though the person couldn’t hear her. She never had anyone come over. It must be a salesperson.
The buzzer rang again, this time for longer. Nara closed her eyes, ignoring it. They’d go away eventually. And she was right. After a few more lame attempts to get her off the couch the person gave up.
Good. She didn’t need anything. She didn’t have money for anything. And she certainly didn’t want to see anyone. Not with her not-been-washed-in-several-days hair and her ratty t-shirt she’d owned since she was fifteen. No one should see her in her comfort clothes.
She’d finished her last Diet Coke on Tuesday. The last empty bottles still sat on her coffee table, along with an empty potato chip bag, two boxes of cereal, and the wrappers from six cake rolls she’d eaten. Did she mention her life sucked?
She closed her eyes. Was it time to go to bed? It felt late. The room had darkened hours ago. She probably should make her nightly move from the couch to the bed, but she lacked the energy.
Wait.
What time was it? She picked up her cell and tried to read the clock through her blurry eyes. Two o’clock in the morning? Who had been buzzing her apartment at this time of night? Now she was really glad in her dazed state she hadn’t let them in. It was probably a drunk.
Sh
e snuggled back into the covers and closed her eyes. Sleep was calling to her. That’s all she’d felt like doing the last few days.
Somewhere in her foggy state she thought she heard knocking. But that was stupid. Who would be knocking on her door? She drifted off to sleep.
The knocking continued, and she realized it must be a dream. An annoying dream. The knocking should stop. It was giving her a headache.
“Nara,” a voice called. “Let me in.”
She moaned. Now she was dreaming that Derek was at her door. Just great. That’s what she needed. More dreams about Derek. Didn’t she have a sucky enough life? Now she had to dream Derek was in New York.
Actually, that dream might be nice.
“Nara, are you in there?” More knocking, louder this time. “Open the door.”
Maybe she should open the door. It might be a good dream. She tried to sit up, but had a very difficult time working her muscles. Probably because she hadn’t eaten. Stupid muscles. She tried again, this time crawling toward the door.
It took forever to get there, but she finally managed to do it. Pulling herself up, she flipped the lock and turned the handle. Derek came bursting into the room. “Nara,” he said, pulling her into his arms.
She couldn’t hold her head upright. This was a strange dream. But it felt wonderful to be back in Derek’s arms, and she closed her eyes and let him carry her.
“Geez, Nara, you’re freezing.”
The dream Derek was warm, and she snuggled into his chest. Man, he even smelled like the real Derek. Could she usually smell in a dream? She couldn’t remember.
Derek laid her down in her bed. The next thing she knew he was putting her covers over her. She grabbed his arm. “Don’t go, Emperor,” she said, her mouth not working right. The words barely made it out.
He sighed and smoothed her hair from her face. Then he gently placed his lips on her forehead. It felt like sunshine and warmth. She pulled him to her.
He climbed under the covers and she snuggled into his chest. This was the best dream, ever. She still felt tired, for some strange reason, in her dream and fell back asleep with Derek in her arms.
She hoped she wouldn’t be too disappointed when she woke up.
Her dream seemed to last a longer time than normal. In fact, a few times in the night she had the strangest sensation that it wasn’t a dream at all, but that Derek was actually in bed with her. Which was ridiculous.
But when the morning light filled the room and she sleepily felt the spot beside her, Derek wasn’t there, and her heart broke. A small part of her had hoped it had been real.
Pain stabbed at her chest and she blinked back tears. She missed him so much. It had been such a great dream. Feeling Derek’s arms around her. His soft caress. His lips on her forehead. She wanted that again. Her body ached for him.
Why was she still in New York? She was jobless, and growing more and more penniless by the day. Rent in NYC was insane, even for her tiny dump of a place. She should go back to L.A.
The thought of being near Derek sent another wave of tears down her cheeks. Why couldn’t she just leave? Accept defeat and run back to her father’s house with her tail between her legs.
A smell drifted into her room and she inhaled. Pancakes? She grabbed her pillow and buried her head. Which neighbor was making pancakes? That was so cruel.
A noise came from her kitchen and she froze, her blood turning to ice. Someone was in her apartment? For a split second she wondered if her dream last night had been real. She shook her head and chastised herself. Derek wasn’t there. And no one was in her apartment. That was stupid.
She crawled out of bed, her head dizzy. She was famished, and the smell of pancakes was making her mouth water. She needed to eat. It had been long enough. Time to stop wallowing and being stupid.
She opened her bedroom door and panic enveloped her. The smell wasn’t coming from a neighbor’s house. It was too strong. And she heard the sound of dishes clinking together in her kitchen. She peeked around the corner and saw Derek at the stove with a spatula in his hand.
She shrieked and he whipped around, obviously startled. “What are you doing here?” Her heart hammered in her chest. “How did you get in?”
Derek put his hand up. “Whoa, you let me in. Last night. You don’t remember?”
“No.” She shook her head for emphasis. But then she remembered her dream. Someone knocking. Her opening the door for Derek. “Oh,” she said, lowering her gaze. “Maybe I do.”
“Sit. You look like you’re going to fall over. When’s the last time you’ve eaten?” He turned back to the stove and scooped up a pancake from the frying pan.
“I don’t know,” she admitted as she walked the three steps to her kitchen chair.
“Here,” he said, putting a plate with a stack of three pancakes in front of her. He’d cleaned off her kitchen table. Her gaze snapped to the sink. He’d done the dishes, too.
A lump swelled in her throat and she could barely speak. “Why are you here?”
He set a bottle of strawberry syrup in front of her. “Eat.”
Tears blurred her vision. Had he brought the syrup from home? She couldn’t believe it. How could he be so tuned in to what she needed? She quickly wiped the tears from her cheeks. What a stupid thing to cry about. She poured the syrup and cut into the pancakes. They tasted amazing.
Derek worked at the stove while she ate. He put another hot pancake on her plate after she’d finished her stack. He froze, his gaze staring down at her ring. The one she still wore.
She placed her hand in her lap, embarrassed she still had it on. “Did my father send you?”
He slowly turned back to the stove. “He called me because he was concerned about you.”
“Aren’t you going to eat any of these?”
“I already ate.” He pointed to her plate. “Eat. I know you haven’t been.”
“I’m almost full.”
“Then eat until you’re all the way full.” He removed the frying pan from the burner and turned it off.
“Why are you here?” she repeated.
“Because you needed me.”
He turned around and his gaze was so intense she about fell off her chair. Her breath caught and she couldn’t think. All she could do was nod. She had needed him. Desperately. He just didn’t know how much.
She took a few more bites of her pancake and then slid the plate away. Emotion caught in her throat. What he’d done for her…and here she was looking like death. She grew embarrassed for the state she was in. “Thank you for breakfast. Can I go take a shower, now?”
His lips lifted in that tiny smile of his. “Please do.”
She scoffed and grabbed the kitchen towel, snapping it at him. “I didn’t ask you to barge in here last night.”
He sobered. “I know.”
She couldn’t look at him anymore. Not without tears stinging her eyes. She stood and left the room without being able to say anything else.
Chapter 31
Derek cleaned up the breakfast dishes as he listened to the sound of the shower going in the other room. Nara had been in bad shape when he’d gotten there. He did see much improvement this morning. He hoped his presence had something to do with it, but was more inclined to believe she just needed someone there. Someone who cared.
The shower turned off. He finished drying the dishes and putting them in the cupboard. Then he started on the living room. Nara must have been immensely depressed. He could tell by the trash lying around. He didn’t blame her. He knew how much she wanted her dream job.
The bathroom door opened, and Nara appeared. His mouth went dry. She wore a simple t-shirt and jeans and her hair was up in a towel, but to him she looked amazing. She took the towel off her head and started drying the ends of her hair. She slowed, giving him a tentative look. “How long will you be here?”
Forever. The word just popped into his head unbidden, which was dumb. He wasn’t there forever. “How long do you need me
?”
She looked at the floor. “I suppose my father told you what happened.”
He nodded. “Yeah.”
She exhaled and plopped down on the couch. “I’m ruined.”
“We can fight it,” he blurted out.
“How?” Her gaze searched his as she lowered the towel.
“I’ll hire a team of lawyers. They’ll prove your designs were stolen.”
She sighed. “I’m not sure what good that will do.”
Richard had been right. She seemed listless. Not at all the fighter he knew she was. “It will clear your name, for one thing.”
“I just don’t know what good that will do.”
Derek grew upset. He sat down next to her and put his hands on her shoulders. “Listen. Your designs were good enough that your boss took them and passed them off as designs from someone who has been in the business for years. You may not realize it, but this means you are a top designer.”
Nara blinked, the realization sinking in.
Before she could speak, he continued. “You are one of the most talented people I know. Not only are your designs good enough to steal, but your tenacity and perseverance will take you far. You just have to fight this with me.”
She hid her face in her hands. “I don’t know if I have the strength.”
An idea came to him and he shot up from the seat. “I know what you need.” He rushed to the fridge and pulled out one of the bottles of Diet Coke he’d purchased that morning. It wasn’t as cold as he was hoping, but it would do. He walked back to the couch and held it out to her. “Here.”
She looked up, her eyes widening as she saw her favorite soda. She jumped up, grabbed the soda, and threw her arms around his neck. Before he could react, she pressed her lips to his in a quick peck. “Thank you.”
His heart jumped. He had come to New York to help Nara. To give her the confidence to fight for what was hers. He had no right to claim her as his own, but right now, with her just millimeters away from him and smelling amazing, he wasn’t thinking clearly. She’d kissed him, and he needed more. He needed her. The brief contact with her lips had awakened an intense desire in him. He pushed all inhibitions away and wrapped his arms around her, pressing his lips to hers.
A Marriage of Anything but Convenience Page 17
