Zenith Falling (Zenith Trilogy, #1)

by Leanne Davis

  She looked up, and finally cracked a small smile. Her skin was sickly pale. “No. Nothing as bad as that. Just stay close to me. I didn’t even go to my own prom. I’ve no clue what to do here.”

  He took her inside and she stayed beside him while he got wine for them. She clutched the glass as if he were offering her the Holy Grail to strengthen her before a difficult journey. Then she squeaked, and looking down, he wondered what could possibly have her freaking out now.

  “It’s Steve. Oh my God, he’s here. And there’s that accountant. And Bev, and–”

  “I know, Joelle.”

  Her eyes rounded, and her mouth dropped. “Oh my God. This is half your management staff.”

  He kept his gaze steady on hers. “It’s all of my management staff.”

  She took her hand off his arm. “I’m not management. They’ll know that immediately.”

  “I know. I don’t care.”

  “You don’t care?” she echoed, her eyes big and wide.

  “Who else could I bring as my date, but you? What was I supposed to do? Not come?”

  “What were you supposed to do? Tell me? Ask me? Not manage me too! I’m not your employee outside of that office; you can’t do things like this. You can’t decide things for me.”

  “If I told you it was a business affair with most of my employees, you wouldn’t have come. I had to come here tonight. And damn it, Joelle, I didn’t want to come alone. I sure as hell didn’t want to bring some random girl. Or even Erica, for that matter. I only wanted to bring you. I–”

  He stopped talking when Steve intruded upon them. Nick cursed the interruption, and Joelle was seething; she even looked furious and upset. She had the fuck-you-Nick look in her eye again.

  “Hey, there, Mr. Lassiter. Joelle! So glad it’s you. Wasn’t too sure at first,” Steve said, indicating her blonde hair and glancing at Nick, but letting his gaze linger on Joelle.

  “Hello, Steve,” Nick said, smiling easily.

  “I’m surprised to see you here,” Steve said, still grinning oddly at Joelle. “But you look so lovely. Who did you come with?”

  “She’s with me.”

  Joelle’s eyes came up to Nick’s and there was a mean, fuck-you scowl on her face. He was in for it, but he was ready for that. Glad of it. Maybe now, she would finally take a stand one way or the other between them.

  “Steve. Would you excuse us a moment?” Nick asked, putting a hand on Joelle’s back to guide her away from him. They crossed the foyer until they came to a private, inner courtyard that surrounded the hotel’s pool.

  She jerked her hand out of his when they were alone. “What the hell are you doing, Nick?”

  “I’m not hiding anymore.”

  “Oh, you’re not hiding anymore? Mr. Lassiter made a company decision, so good, little Joelle, the Secretary, had better listen?

  Nick gritted his teeth. “You’re not a secretary. But second to that, do you even know what tonight is? Didn’t it strike you as strange that I asked you here?”

  “Yes it struck me as surprising. That’s why I came. I was trying to be... what you need.”

  “So be what I need. Don’t turn into a raging bitch simply because people we both know, people who like both of us, will see us together. What’s the big deal?”

  “Raging bitch? How dare you!” She glared up at him, her hands clenched in tight fists. All she needed to do was start stomping her feet to emphasize her glorious tantrum.

  He closed his eyes and sighed before lowering his voice, and saying, “Tonight is special to me, and I wanted you here because you’re special to me.”

  She stiffened. “What’s tonight? Why are all these people here?”

  He looked down and kicked a wayward pebble on the concrete patio. “It’s just a stupid award,” he said, suddenly becoming silent. He turned away, and glared into the night.

  “Award? Award for what? For you? Oh my God! Is this an awards ceremony, in honor of you?”

  He closed his eyes and sighed; running a hand through his hair as he shook his head. “Yes. It’s just this stupid thing. It seemed important five minutes ago, but now… it doesn’t anymore. I was wrong to bring you here. It was lousy of me and I see that now. You didn’t want anyone to know. I should have respected that, no matter what.”

  She finally quit twitching and looked up at him. He couldn’t read her expression. “What’s the award for?”

  “Responsible business practices. It’s a stupid award handed out yearly, the Donovan Award. I don’t even care, other than it’s good PR.”

  “You don’t care?” She swallowed and asked, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I thought it could be a surprise. No big deal though. Look, let’s just leave. You’re right; I shouldn’t have put us out there before you’re ready. Not here. Not tonight.”

  “You wanted me here,” she said to herself, not to him.

  “I think that’s pretty obvious. Always obvious. To all, but you.”

  “And I ruined it. I turned it into being all about me. As I always do.”

  He shook his head, and suddenly stepped closer to her, putting his hands on her waist and drawing her forward. “No. Don’t. Don’t think that. You’re not always doing that. Look, I know this lifestyle of mine, isn’t for you; and believe me, I’m well aware of how you feel. How awkward you must feel around it. And I shouldn’t have expected you to stand here by my side like some kind of trophy date I could show off. I shouldn’t have thrown you into it without any preparation or warning. I knew better than that. So forget tonight.”

  “Forget tonight?”

  He nodded.

  He could feel her studying his profile. “Oh, Nick, I haven’t thought about how I make you feel. And tonight, you just wanted my support, not my issues.”

  “Maybe I do. But that isn’t where we are yet. I should have respected that.”

  “No, you can expect that of me. You should be able to expect that of whatever girlfriend you choose. You should be proud of what you’ve done, and all you managed to attain. You shouldn’t have to worry about how your girlfriend might react to it,” she said, her tone quieter. She looked up into his eyes.

  “Fuck,” he muttered after a long, silent moment.

  “What was that for?”

  “That was for you and me. I don’t know what to do or how to do it. I can run this company single-handedly, I can juggle millions of dollars of other people’s money, and come out ahead. But with you. I don’t know what I’m doing.”

  “Funny. That’s usually my department. You always know what you’re doing. Just the right thing to say or do.”

  “Not when it comes to you.”

  He looked away and shook his head. He knew he screwed up bringing her here without warning her first and letting her decide. He knew that, but ignored his gut. He deserved her reaction. “I’m sorry. I pushed you, way too much and way too soon, after I promised I wouldn’t. I just wanted you to come here tonight, so I ignored what I knew to be true. I convinced myself you’d be fine once you were here, but I was wrong.”

  She looked up at him, and her eyes seemed less angry, more weary. Finally, she said, “I’ll come in there with you.”

  He jerked to attention. “Are you serious?”

  She nodded. “I am proud of you. And I want to be here and share this honor with you.”

  She looped her arm through his, and rested her hand on his forearm. He let out a long breath. Holy shit, she was staying. As they were walking into the ballroom, he asked, “Why did you change your hair?”

  “Erica said I should. She said I’d look more fashionable. And I do look prettier.”

  “But it’s not you.”

  She looked up at his profile from her lowered lashes. “How do you always know what’s me?”

  “Because I’ve spent way too much time thinking about what is you. What is right for you. I’ve spent months trying to figure out how to make you fit into my life. And do you know what I’m finally r
ealizing? I can’t make my life fit you. Me, my lifestyle, everything I do and am, just might never work for you. No matter how much I want it to.”

  ****

  Joelle’s heart dropped in her chest at hearing Nick’s statement. But they were in the ballroom, surrounded by crowds of celebrants. She noticed, on her way back into the ballroom, a banner over the entrance announcing the ball was to celebrate the recipient of the prestigious Honors in Business, The Donovan Award, presented to Nick Lassiter, President of Next Generation Consulting.

  Trepidation filled her mind. People always noticed Nick when he entered any room. He walked with the assurance of the man he was, who knew where he was going, which seemed to radiate from him, and draw people to him. If a boat were sinking, he’d undoubtedly be the person the frightened passengers would crowd around, listen to, and consult for decision-making and leadership. Nick naturally possessed that kind of persona and personality.

  Why, then, was he with a short, shy, dud like her? She shuffled when she walked, and could not command even a room full of toddlers. She shied away, stuttered and hid herself. She could never lead, because she lacked both charisma and style. Not like Nick. He was gorgeous, rich, captivating really, in his magnetism, and the most considerate, giving, kind, understanding man she’d ever met.

  He could walk up to any crowd, no matter how big, and easily insert himself; smiling, chatting, shaking hands, making introductions, and still remember everyone’s name whom he talked to. He had a way of engaging the most obscure people, someone like Joelle for example, and making them feel as if they were the center of his world when he addressed them.

  For the most part, she followed Nick from group to group, remaining practically silent. She smiled here and there in her clumsy effort to fit in. All the while, her mind was reeling, and having a hard time following even the briefest of conversations. All she could concentrate on were the looks aimed their way. Lots of very odd, penetrating looks.

  Familiar faces with whom they worked now stared, their eyebrows raised, as they tried to determine the reason why Joelle Williams was standing with Nick Lassiter’s hand on her arm. Or why she followed every step he took. Or why he was beside her, of all the other women.

  The longer the night progressed, the more Joelle got the feeling that even strangers were now wondering who she was. Who was that unnamed girl following Nick? Who was the man of the hour escorting? Someone unknown, someone who couldn’t carry herself at this party, couldn’t pull off the dress, the makeup and certainly not the hair. And the longer the night went on, the more convinced she became that she wasn’t imagining it. There was a consistency of subtle, quiet chatter following their wake.

  She was introduced to people that made her eyes widen in surprise. The mayor, a senator, two Mariner team members, heads of several local bigwig businesses, and the local elite: rich people whose names she’d often heard on the evening news. And all these people knew Nick. They talked to him with such ease and respect, it made it obvious he was a leader amongst them. Nick’s life was supported by these people, yet it meant nothing to him. Nick had to strain to understand Joelle’s discomfort. She wasn’t political, or even community savvy. She was a lowly hairdresser who followed a rock band for four years, that only performed at little clubs, which were totally unknown to the rich and elite she saw in this room.

  Soon, her high heels were killing her toes. She could hardly stand still in them, they were so tall to her. She swayed like a skyscraper in the wind, but noticed the other women wore their high heels with the poise and grace of a tennis shoe. How the hell did one learn to balance like that? How did they manage to ignore the pain?

  Finally, they sat down at the table, front and center, below the podium. Then a man in a tuxedo got up and gave a short speech and brief introduction for the evening. The room erupted with applause for the winner of the Donovan Award. Nick stood up, comfortable at once with all the acclaim and attention. He walked towards the podium, with his easy stride, no quicker, or more hurried than usual. Nothing ruffled him. He got up, and Joelle clenched her hands as the nerve endings in her body went on overdrive. Oh God, he was standing in front of the entire room.

  Without the slightest hint of perspiration, Nick was calm and cool as he smiled, and waved a hand as if to say that was enough applause. He started talking with no prepared speech. Not Nick. Of course, he wouldn’t need that kind of human aid. He rattled off an elegantly short, but perfect speech on the responsibilities of the business community in today’s economy. He urged all influential business people to strive to be examples, and of a higher caliber than the government demanded. He pointed out that profits coming from human greed wouldn’t last, and only human care and compassion would create long lasting, world-improving, profits and competition.

  He exited the podium while the audience clapped loudly, and made his way through the throngs of well-wishers, and women, seeking to kiss his cheeks. Finally, he returned to Joelle. She stood up and took his hand, feeling awed by the sheer enormity of what it meant to be Nick Lassiter, and relishing the concept that he was coming back to her. “You were perfect.”

  “Great. Now you can hate me even more,” he whispered into her ear. “I thought you hated it when I’m, what is it you call me? Nick-like?”

  She laughed softly, aware of all the unapologetic stares falling on them. She sat down next to him. “No, I’m just jealous because I can’t even address my boss without stammering. You work a room like Nick Lassiter does everything else.”

  He leaned over and kissed her forehead. “I don’t want to impress them. I just want you to like me in spite of all this.”

  “I do. And you impress me, although you also intimidate the hell out of me.”

  He frowned and squeezed her hand. “No. Don’t. That’s what I don’t want you to do. You know me, Joelle. This… this is all just my way to make money. And how I stay busy. Don’t ever be intimidated by me.”

  She opened her mouth to answer, but was interrupted by someone standing right between them. Joelle suddenly found herself staring at some man’s suit-clad ass.

  “Mr. Lassiter, can we get a few shots of you with the mayor and senator for the news story? And our reporter would like a few words.”

  Nick glanced around the ass at her, showing his regret with his eyes. “Will you be okay?”

  “Go. Don’t worry about me.”

  She felt his eyes on her, and sensed, for some reason, he was extra worried about her tonight. She was on her own for over an hour while Nick got mauled by myriad cameras, photos, hand-shaking, and idle chit chats. He showed off his newest plaque, along with his smile and a good laugh. He was tersely interviewed and she even saw two women, one tall and gorgeous, the other heavier, but very exotic, slip small pieces of paper into Nick’s jacket pocket. Their phone numbers? Come-fuck-me notes? Had to be. Most women fell for Nick. Why wouldn’t they? He was the definition of what every woman wanted. And to top it off, he never used it to mistreat or abuse women; but showed all of them the same respect and care, as if each were unique and beautiful to him.

  Joelle grew more and more conspicuous as a misfit. Feeling awkward, all she wanted to do was go home. She avoided the few management personnel people whom she did know. She was afraid to hear any speculation, or comments about Nick and her. The catty innuendoes that were probably being bandied about by people’s tongues regarding her recent promotion would have undoubtedly pushed her over the edge.

  “So how did you land him?”

  “Excuse me?” Joelle asked, turning towards the voice of Brittany Snow. She was about Nick’s age, with no ring on her finger. She always treated Nick with the utmost respect. Joelle was shocked to see the anger in her eyes, and hear the vindictive edge of the woman’s tone.

  “You fucked your way up the ladder. I get that. What I don’t get is how it could be you? You’re a little runt. Nothing Nick Lassiter should even look twice at.”

  “I’m not, I mean, Nick and I–

 
; “Sure, sweetie. He regularly hires people with no degrees, no experience. I checked your record. Did you know you are the only current employee without a college degree? And the rest of the firm all possess degrees from the most prestigious universities. Only the best. Engineers, computer techs, business managers and market analysts, and then there’s you. A fucking hairdresser from nowhere. I don’t get it. I can’t figure it out. Why would Nick bother with you? I get it now though.”

  Why would Nick bother with you? The words echoed through her brain. The same question she’d been asking herself. Now they were real. Spoken. She knew she should not listen to Brittany Snow, as the woman lived to intimidate her. She wanted to exploit Joelle’s weaknesses.

  Nick was trapped in a throng of well-dressed men and women. It suddenly became starkly obvious that she didn’t belong here. Or anywhere near these people: Nick, his life, his company, and his heart were forbidden territory.

  Brittany Snow was just the first to point that out. The tip of the iceberg in the barrage of nasty comments she’d soon face. Nick would try to shut them down, but they would simmer and dance around her. All the employees would soon hate her. And at the one place she managed to build a small reputation of competency and pride, all her effort would soon be shattered by one fact: she screwed Nick. That’s all that mattered and all anyone would see. And worst of all, everyone knew she was still married to someone else.

  Joelle turned and fled from Brittany Snow. She hurried into the foyer of the grand hotel. Then she ran outside and started down the sidewalk, hobbling clumsily on her high heels. She was suddenly flagged down by a man in black.

  “Hey, miss, the limo’s over here. You need a lift somewhere?”

  The limo driver recognized her as Nick’s date. Of course, he did; it was his job. She looked right, then left, before nodding. “Yes, I do need a ride somewhere. Anywhere, but here.”

  ****

  Nick kept Joelle in his sights and noticed she was growing agitated, and more nervous as the evening wore on. She shredded a tissue to pieces, then folded and twisted her linen napkin. She smiled and tried to talk whenever someone approached her. He tried to excuse himself several times, only to be surrounded again by the crowd. As man of the hour, the attention he received was stifling and thick. After receiving a couple of strange women’s phone numbers in his pocket, he recognized the type. The un-Joelles. Those women would know, right down to the carat and dollar amount, about the necklace he gave to Joelle. They were quite willing to do Nick in the coat closet right then and there, in the meager hope that he’d spend some of his money on them.