TENSE - Volume Two (The TENSE Duet Book 2)

by Deborah Bladon

  "I went to therapy after college. I worked through some of it there. My writing has helped."

  He writes about death. It makes more sense to me now. "I can't imagine going through something like that."

  "It changes a person at their core." He picks up my clutch from the table and hands it to me. "You have to fight to find yourself again."

  He's fought. He's here now, baring himself to me.

  "You gave me more than thirty minutes." He reaches for my hand and slides his fingers up my wrist to the edge of my watch. "Thank you for that."

  I shiver. I can't tell if that's from the cheap wine or his touch. "You're welcome."

  "Can I get another thirty minutes with you sometime this year?"

  I try to force back a smile, but it's useless. "I think I can fit you in on Monday evening."

  "Monday as in three days from now?" His brows lift. "Are you serious?"

  "Meet me back here at seven on Monday evening."

  "I'll be here at six."

  I laugh. "You're eager."

  "You're damn right I am." He raises my hand to his lips, kissing my palm gently. "I get to see the most incredible woman in the world on Monday at seven. Life doesn't get much better than that."

  Chapter 14

  Sophia

  "Do you think forgiveness is a virtue, Den?"

  She stops in place. "I think so. Why?"

  I stare at the wall of the nursery that she's been working on for baby Firi. Today she painted it a pale shade of blue. Last week she opted for green. "I talked to Nicholas last night. He's been through a lot in his life. I've been thinking about forgiveness ever since."

  "You forgave him weeks ago, Soph." She moves the covered can of paint with the toe of her shoe. "You've been scared. That's different than not forgiving."

  She's right. I did forgive him even if I wasn't ready to admit it to myself. I know that he spat those words out because he was angry. It doesn't excuse the fact that he chose to do it though. "What if I try again with him and he blames me for something else that goes wrong?"

  "You'll tell him to shut the hell up and think about what he's saying." She manages a half-grin. "Before that happens, you'll talk to him about how he made you feel when he accused you of stealing his manuscript. If he listens and understands, you two have a shot. If he just wants to push it under the rug and forget it ever happened, you need to think twice about getting involved with him again."

  Her words are my truth. I've been thinking the same thing since I talked to him at the bar. "I'm meeting him for a drink on Monday night."

  She rubs her growing belly through the pink sweatshirt she's wearing. "You haven't been the same since you two broke up."

  "I'm the same," I argue.

  "You're not," she insists with a push of her hair behind her shoulders. "You felt safe with him and he stole that away from you."

  I don't respond. I can't. She's right.

  "I know it's hard for you to trust men." She edges around the subject with skill and compassion. "You let your guard down with him. Then he went and fucked that all up."

  I smile. "He fucked it up royally."

  "Who knew that an award-winning author could be such a dunce?"

  "Tell me I'm not an idiot for even considering taking him back." I sigh.

  She rests both hands on my shoulders. "If you care about him and you believe that he's genuinely sorry for what happened, I think you're safe to follow your heart."

  "How did you get to be so smart?"

  "I'm not smart." She laughs it off. "I know that relationships aren't cut and dry. We all make mistakes. Nicholas did. You will too. How you handle those mistakes is what defines who you are as a couple and as individuals."

  "Smart." I tip my chin up. "I still say you're smart."

  "I must be. I finally chose the perfect color of paint for my little boy's nursery."

  ***

  "White or red tonight, Sophia?" Shirley holds a bottle of wine in each hand.

  "Red tonight." I smile at her. She gave me a hug when I walked into Bartlett's. Nicholas was already waiting for me at the same table we shared last week.

  She fills the empty glass in front of me half full. "I'd tell you to sample it, but I don't run that kind of joint. You drink what I serve and I charge a fair price."

  "Deal." I give her a wink. "Nicholas is paying though."

  "In that case, I should have cracked open the good stuff."

  Nicholas laughs. "We'll save that for another night."

  "Suit yourself, Nicky." She turns back to me. "Can I get you something to eat? I make a mean ham sandwich."

  I glance around the almost empty bar. "I didn't realize you served food here."

  "I don't, but I keep a loaf of bread, a package of ham and a jar of the best mustard in the state in the fridge in the back."

  "It sounds delicious," I say genuinely. "I ate at home though so I'll take a rain check."

  "Deal." She looks down at the tumbler in front of Nicholas. "Can I get you a refill?"

  "Not right now." He tosses her a look. "We're going to talk for a bit."

  "Throw me a wave if you need another."

  I watch her walk away, acutely aware that Nicholas is staring at me. I'm not wearing a stitch of makeup tonight. I got home late from work and had just enough time to eat an apple and shower. I dried my hair, pulled on a black jumpsuit and boots and took off out the door.

  "I was running late." I skim my fingers over my lips. "I usually never leave the house without makeup."

  "You should always leave the house without makeup. You're stunning like this."

  I want to tell him that he's gorgeous too. He is. He's wearing a thick charcoal colored sweater and jeans. His hair hasn't been trimmed in weeks and he's wearing his glasses tonight.

  "How is work going?"

  His brows pop at my generic question. "Good. I'm working on a new project and getting things lined up for the release of Action's Cause."

  "Does it make you nervous?" I sample the wine. It's not half bad. "Does putting a new book out make you anxious?"

  "Always." He rubs the pad of his thumb over the rim of his glass. "I'm exposing a piece of myself. There's a vulnerability that goes with that."

  "I understand. It's the same for me with my clothing designs."

  "I met Gabe for a drink on Saturday night. He told me you're killing it at Ella Kara."

  "You met Gabriel for a drink?" I don't even try to hide my surprise. "Since when do the two of you hang out?"

  He dips his head down. "Since I told him he could call me whenever he wanted."

  "That might have been a mistake."

  He gazes across the table at me. "It might have been. If it was, I can live with it. I can't live with what I did to you, Sophia. I want to make it up to you. Tell me how."

  Chapter 15

  Nicholas

  I stop breathing when I see the look in her eye. It's pain. Clear and honest pain caused by me. I'm so fucking pissed at myself for doing what I did to her.

  "I talked to my friend, Cadence, the other day about forgiveness."

  Forgive my sins, Sophia. Please fucking forgive me.

  "Did it help you?" I hold my breath after I ask. I pray to God her friend isn't one of those women who hold a man's transgressions against him until his heart stops beating. If I have to walk this earth for the next sixty years knowing Sophia is out there somewhere and not by my side, I'll be dead inside.

  "Talking to her always helps me." She manages a small smile. "She's very logical."

  "What did she say about forgiveness?"

  Her grip tightens on the wine glass. "She said that I'd forgiven you weeks ago. She's right."

  "You did?" I ask hoarsely.

  "If I saw some of my designs on a runway at fashion week, I'd lose it." Her voice is even and measured. "I'd think twice before blaming my lover for it, but maybe that's just me."

  "You're more than my lover," I subtly correct her. "What we have is mor
e than just that."

  "We have nothing if you don't trust me."

  My stomach drops. She's right. A relationship can't survive without trust. "I trust you. I trust you more than anyone else in my life."

  "Do you trust me enough to talk to me about what you're feeling?" Her pale blue eyes search my face. "You can't lash out at me like that again, Nicholas. If you do, I don't think I can forgive you a second time."

  "I wouldn't want you to forgive me again." I take a deep breath. "I won't hurt you, Sophia. If you give me another chance, I'll get it right. I won't fuck it up."

  "You hurt me so much." She pinches the bridge of her nose. "I promised myself I wouldn't cry about this. I haven't yet, but I'm so mad at you for what you did to me."

  "You should be fucking pissed." I reach across the table for her hand, but I stop myself. "I need to know how I made you feel. I want to hear it all. I want you to cry. I need you to scream at me if that helps and I want you to remind me how fucking fortunate I am to know you every single day."

  "I may need to talk about this in a week, or two or maybe a year from now."

  A year from now? Her eye is on the future.

  "Whenever you feel the need to talk about it, you tell me. I'll drop whatever I'm doing and I'll be there for you."

  She takes another sip of the wine, her nose scrunching slightly as she swallows. "I'm not promising you forever. We take this slow and see where it goes."

  "I'll take it however you want." I pause. "I want to be with you. You set the rules. I'll follow your lead. Whatever you need from me is yours."

  "Trust." She reaches for my hand and links our fingers together. "If you don't trust me, we have nothing to build on."

  I look down at our hands. "You’ve got that and more."

  ***

  "Can I see you again this week?" I ask her as we stand on the sidewalk outside Bartlett's Bar. It's still early. It's nearing nine o'clock and if I had my way, I'd take Sophia home with me, but it's too soon for that.

  Her mouth twists wryly. "Back here or somewhere else?"

  "You want one of Shirley's ham sandwiches, don't you?" I ask dryly. "I've had one, Sophia. I'm telling you now to steer clear of that shit."

  Her thumb jerks back in the direction of the door. "Shirley's heart would break in two if she heard you talking like that."

  "You're right," I acquiesce with a push of my glasses up my nose. "I'm right too. You can't eat one of those sandwiches. I won't let you."

  "You won't let me?" She challenges me with a quirk of her right brow. "Is that a dare?"

  "No, it's a public service. I'm pretty sure I got food poisoning the last time I had one."

  She sighs dramatically. "It couldn't have been all that bad. You look fine to me."

  "I look fine to you?" I emphasize the word 'fine.' "You think I'm hot, don't you?"

  "You're all right." Her gaze drifts down the street at the oncoming traffic. "I can see you on Thursday night if that works for you."

  Any fucking minute of any day works for me. "I'm free."

  "What do you want to do?"

  Fuck you until you're raw. Listen to you play the piano. Love you.

  I don't say any of those things aloud. "Tell me one thing you've always wanted to do in New York that you've never done."

  Her eyes search mine as if she's looking for something there. "Do you promise you won't laugh when I tell you?"

  I hold my hand in the air. "Scout's honor."

  "You were never a boy scout, Nicholas."

  "It doesn't matter. Tell me, Sophia. Let me give you an experience you've never had before."

  She bites her lip to stall a smile. "I want to go for a ride on the Staten Island Ferry."

  "Consider it done."

  Chapter 16

  Sophia

  "You look a little green." I push on his shoulder. "Did you get seasick?"

  He shakes his head. "I think I was a sailor in a past life."

  "Maybe a pirate," I joke. "Most likely you were forced to walk the plank."

  He scratches his whisker covered jaw. "And you were a fair maiden back then too."

  He's been like this all evening; completely attentive, protective and happy. I met him in front of Bartlett's Bar at six and we took an Uber to the Whitehall Terminal. He hesitated only briefly when we boarded the ferry, but once we were on the water, he relaxed.

  "Are you hungry, Sophia?"

  I am. I hadn't eaten after I left work. I rushed home to change into jeans and a white sweater before I pulled on my coat, gloves, and a wool cap to help ward off the cool winds that I knew would whip at us from the water.

  "I could go for a ham sandwich."

  "I'll ignore that." He glances down the street. We're back in mid-town Manhattan now after Nicholas ordered an Uber to pick us up from the Terminal. "I know a burger place less than a block from here."

  "I know a place where the chef makes one of the best grilled cheese sandwiches I've ever had," I say quietly." There's even a baby grand piano there. I could play it while he cooks for me."

  He traces his lower lip with his index finger. "You're sure?"

  I am. I thought about this a lot at work today. I want to feel close to him again and although I don't know if I'll sleep with him tonight, I want to be at his apartment with him. "Absolutely."

  "I'll call for another car."

  "No." I stop his hand as he reaches for his phone. "Let's take the subway. It will be like the night we first met."

  He swallows hard. "The best night of my life you mean."

  "Play your cards right, Mark Twain, and tonight may be the best night of your life."

  "I have a feeling you're right." He leans down to press his lips to my forehead. "This is already a night I'll never forget."

  ***

  "You really do make an excellent grilled cheese sandwich." I run my finger over the last few toasted crumbs on my plate.

  He eyes my lips. "I can make you another if you want."

  "I'm full." I rub my stomach through the sweater I'm wearing. "I'll take another glass of sparkling water though."

  "You're sure you don't want to sample the bottle of wine I bought?"

  I glance at the still corked bottle sitting between us. "I have to work on one of the designs for the Ella Kara collection when I get home tonight. I need to be stone cold sober to do that."

  He gets up from his chair to retrieve the sparkling water from the refrigerator. "Gabriel thinks this line may be Foster's most successful yet."

  "He told you that?" I question as I watch him fill the elegant wine glass with water. "Tell me exactly what he said to you."

  He smiles as he lowers himself back into his chair. "He said that he couldn't remember a designer with as much raw talent as you and he kicks himself every day that he didn't realize that sooner."

  "He didn't know." I sigh. "I never told Gabriel that I was a designer."

  "I know." He picks up my glass and takes a sip of the water. "Why did you keep that a secret?"

  "It's simple." I close my eyes briefly and draw a deep breath. "I was scared that he wouldn't be impressed. I was worried that I'd show him and he'd tell me to focus on being an administrative assistant."

  "You doubted your ability?"

  "I've always known that I have an eye for fashion." I take a swallow of water. "I was confident in what I was doing but when I went to work for Gabriel, something changed."

  "What changed?" He rests his elbow on the table.

  "I knew that I had one chance to impress him and every time I created a new outfit, I felt I could do better. I wanted the piece I showed him to be perfect so I kept putting it off so I wouldn't be forced to face disappointment if he rejected my work."

  "You blew him away." His tone is soft. "I suppose that's obvious in the offer he made to you."

  "You know the details of my contract?" I suck in a deep breath.

  "No," he answers quickly; decisively. "All I know is that you're running the collectio
n for Ella Kara and Gabriel couldn't be happier."

  "I'm happy too. In the fall everyone will finally see what I have to offer. I can't wait for that to happen."

  Chapter 17

  Sophia

  I turn to look at him once I finish playing the piano. Tonight it was another piece from Chopin. I'd mastered it years ago under the guidance of my piano teacher. She'd be disappointed in my performance just now. "Did you like that?"

  "How can one person be so multi-talented?" He eyes me from where he's sitting in the chair next to the piano. "You're not only a world class fashion designer, but you could join the New York Philharmonic on stage and blend in seamlessly."

  I couldn't. To an untrained ear, my ability to play may seem impressive. I heard the missteps my nervous fingers made tonight. He didn't notice because he was focused on the song as a whole, not on the intricate parts like I was.

  "I'm a better designer than a pianist." I scan the small table next to the chair he's in. I instantly realize the picture of him and Briella is gone.

  His gaze follows mine. "I packed it away. It was time."

  "You put it away because of me." It's not a question. It's a statement. "She's important to you, Nicholas. I think you should put the picture back."

  He taps his knee. "Come sit with me."

  I do. We're both still fully clothed and as I snuggle into his lap, I feel a sense of instant peace when his arms circle my waist.

  "For a long time, I had regrets about the night she was killed."

  I turn to look at his face. "Regrets? What regrets?"

  "If I wouldn't have stayed with my grandfather as long as I did, I might have made it to Briella's house before she was shot." He exhales sharply. "I regret that I didn't take her with me to see my grandfather. They'd met once before that and he adored her. I wondered for a long time how different my life would have been if she hadn't been home when her father got there."