by Jade Kerrion
“Do you…see him often?”
Sheridan flashed an amused smile. “I rarely discuss my clients.”
“I imagine so, but I…had an argument last night with Nicky.”
“About me?”
“Technically, but it was probably just about me. I’m trying to wrap my head around who you are, who Nicky is, and what I want for Nicky and me—and how you fit in.”
Sheridan chuckled. “I fit in only when he calls, and he does call, at least once a month, for the past four or five years.”
Marisa swallowed hard. “How did you…know about me?”
Sheridan relaxed in her seat, her expression growing contemplative. “It was about two years ago, around Thanksgiving. He called me and arranged a meeting at our usual hotel. I arrived and found him devastated. He said nothing of it. He didn’t want sex. He just wanted to hold me, and so he did. He held me until he finally fell asleep in the early hours of the morning.” She sighed softly. “He cried that night like a child struggling to hold back, but his tears wet my hair, and I could feel his breath catching on each quiet sob. It was like someone had died. He whispered one name—Marisa. I thought he’d lost someone named Marisa, so you can imagine how thrilled I am to see that you’re alive.”
“Two years ago? Around Thanksgiving?”
Sheridan nodded.
A cold fist seemed to close around Marisa’s heart. “Michael.”
Sheridan arched an eyebrow.
“Michael, my husband. He was in the Army. Two years ago, around Thanksgiving, he was killed in action.”
“He and Nicholas must have been good friends.”
“They were, for a while. I didn’t realize—Nicky didn’t even come home for the funeral.”
“Some people carry the funeral in their hearts.”
How could she not have realized it? Marisa looked up at Sheridan. “And you and Nicky…”
“We meet once a month, in between his touring schedule with the ABT, always in boutique hotel rooms, never in public. I don’t think we’ve ever been seen together; Nicholas has been careful about it.”
“Why? Is he ashamed of you?”
“I doubt it. Some of the women he parades on his arms at charity galas have wilder reputations and more partners than I’ve had. Now that I’ve seen you, I think I know why he’s worked so hard to keep our relationship private. He probably did it to protect you, or his memory of you.”
“Me?”
Sheridan laughed softly. “He’s not into me, Marisa. Over the years, we have moved beyond acquaintances into a careful kind of friendship with few physical boundaries but clear emotional boundaries. He pays me for sex, and I like to think he has a good time when he’s with me, but after we’re done, when he’s spooned against me, his face nestled in my hair, I know he’s thinking of someone else.”
“But how do you know?”
Sheridan’s smile was a sad curve on her lips. “After a while, in this business, you learn the difference between a man looking for sex, a man looking for love, and a man just looking to forget. Nicholas is trying to forget. He’s been trying to forget for years.”
“I…didn’t realize. There’s still so much I don’t understand about who Nicky has become.”
“I don’t think I can help you beyond everything I’ve told you today. Nicholas and I have a business relationship, and that day, two years ago, was the furthest I got through his personal barriers.”
Marisa nodded. “I thank you, then, for your time.” She stood slowly and turned to the door. “Just one more question. How do Nicky’s other girlfriends deal with…you?”
“I suppose you’re referring to the women who accompany him to the after-performance parties? They’re social media stooges—usually young women with an inheritance to spend down. They make a huge donation to the ABT, and in return, they get to spend some time with the ABT’s superstars, especially Nicholas. At the end of the event, he hands them back over to their parents, guardians, or bodyguards, usually with a great deal of relief.” Sheridan laughed. “As odd as it might sound coming from a professional escort, Nicholas has been in a monogamous sexual relationship with me for the past five years.”
“So, you don’t—”
“Sleep with anyone else? No. It’s part of my contract with Nicholas.”
“He insisted on it?”
“No, I did, for my own sanity and sense of self-worth. I date other men and sometimes women, too. They pay a great deal for my company and my conversation in public and in private, but Nicholas was the man who got me off the streets. His guaranteed financial support allowed me to stop turning tricks in hopes of a room for the night and a meal in my belly.”
“So, why didn’t you stop completely?”
“The money is addictive.” Sheridan’s smile widened. “Nicholas made certain I was no longer financially desperate, and I didn’t have to make terrible short-term decisions just to survive. With the luxury of a steady income, I went upmarket, took the time to build a classy reputation, and now Nicholas is just one of my many clients, although he is the only who takes me into the bedroom. It’s a win-win situation. He was there when I needed him most, and I’m here now when he needs sex.”
Marisa winced.
Sheridan giggled, a surprisingly girlish sound. “If it helps, just think of us as business partners with benefits.” Her expression grew serious. “Whatever your argument with Nicholas, I hope you sort it out. Nicholas is a good man, and it would be a shame to let a misunderstanding wreck your relationship with him.”
“I don’t think we have one.”
“Take a good, hard look at me, and then tell me that you and Nicholas don’t have a relationship.”
Marisa looked away, a flush warming her cheeks. What did she and Nicky have?
She didn’t know anymore.
Marisa arrived at the clinic in Westchester fifteen minutes before her scheduled massage appointment with Nicky. She walked into the clinic and saw him standing at the reception, talking to Lorraine, the clinic’s other massage therapist. Lorraine flushed when she saw Marisa; Nicky’s expression, however, was stoic.
Karen, the receptionist, cleared her throat and looked nervously at Marisa. “Nicholas asked if he could swap therapists, and Lorraine actually had an open spot, so you’re actually free for another hour until your next appointment.”
Marisa glanced at Nicky. “Oh, I see. I think that—”
Her cell phone rang and she accepted a call as a welcome distraction from having to face down Nicky. “This is Marisa.”
“I’m calling from the vet clinic on Federal Avenue. Your dog, Daisy, was just brought in. She was hit by a car—”
“Is she all right?”
“She’s alive, but it’s not looking good. Can you come down? You need to see her and make some decisions.”
“I’ll be right there.”
She disconnected the call and was about to rush back out the door when Nicky’s grip on her arm steadied her. “What happened?” he asked. His voice, pitched low and deliberately calm, steadied her.
“Daisy was in an accident. She’s at the vet’s office.”
“I’ll come with you.”
“But your massage—”
He shrugged it off and reached into his pocket for car keys as they walked out of the clinic together. Marisa, her thoughts spinning, slid into the car seat and did not think to raise a protest over him driving until they were halfway to the vet.
She cast him a sideway glance. “Daisy does it all the time,” she said, talking to fill the silence in the car. It gave her something to do besides worry for Daisy and over the possibility of losing her.
“What?” Nicky asked. “Run on the road?”
“Run through traffic. She started doing it as a puppy. We’ve tried to break her of it, including making sure she was leashed every time she left the house, but she’s figured out how to get out of the house on her own, and now…” Her voice cracked. “What if she’s badly hurt?”
“I can’t lose her.” Panic coated her throat. “Michael gave her to me.”
“I know,” he said quietly. “It’ll be all right. I promise.”
The vet, however, could make no promise of it. “Several broken ribs, and both her front legs are broken. Her right lung also collapsed, and some kidney damage appears likely,” Robert Tolker said quietly as he, Marisa, and Nicky stood over Daisy, who lay unmoving on a surgical table.
“What does that mean? You can still help her, right?”
Robert nodded, but he grimaced. “Yes, we can, but you need to weigh her age against the cost of care and the effort of rehabilitation for her and for you.”
Marisa inhaled sharply. “You’re saying we should put her to sleep? But it was just an accident.”
“It was a big one. A bad one. She was lucky to survive at all, but it’s your decision. Do you have pet insurance?”
She shook her head. “How much will it be?”
“$8,000. Possibly even up to $10,000.”
“What?”
“The first twenty-four hours will be critical. The x-rays, lab work, blood work…it’s going to top $1,000 almost immediately, and there’s no guarantee she’ll make it. If she gets through the night, she’ll have a much better shot at it, but it’s going to be touch-and-go for a while.”
Marisa swallowed painfully. A $10,000 bill would wipe out much of her emergency savings. “I need a few minutes to think about it.”
“Okay, but if we want to save her life, we need to get moving on it quickly.”
“I understand.” Tears spilled out of Marisa’s eyes as she leaned down and pressed her cheek to Daisy’s face. Daisy’s tail twitched, and her wet tongue weakly licked Marisa’s face. Marisa choked out a sound that was part-sob, part-laugh. “You’re Michael’s and my baby. I can’t let you go. Not if there’s a chance you’ll be okay. You’re going to fight hard to live, and I’ll do everything I can to make sure you do.” She raised her gaze to the vet. “Do what you have to for her, everything you can. I’ll pay whatever it takes; she’s worth it.”
“All right.” Robert gestured to the two waiting technicians. “Get her prepped for surgery.”
Nicky slid his arm around Marisa’s back and guided her out of the room. His presence steadied her, anchored her. “Oh my God.” Marisa let out a quivering sigh. “She has to make it.”
“She will,” Nicky murmured. “Do you want to wait here, or should I take you home?”
“Home, please. I want to be there when Eva and her babysitter arrive. I need to explain it to her.” Wrapped in her own misery, she stared out the window. Breaking the silence, speaking to Nicky was too difficult. Allowing the comfortable silence to expand and fill the space between her and Nicky was far easier. Nicky had always known when to simply “be there for her.”
It was one of the things she had missed most about him during the long break in their friendship. She had lost the person who understood her most, who often seemed to understand her better than she understood herself.
She stirred out of her abstracted state when Nicky pulled up in front of her house. “Thank you for the ride,” she said before stepping out of his car.
He nodded, and said nothing.
He didn’t need to. “Call if you need anything,” was implied, a safety net for any circumstance.
Or was it?
Had she forfeited it with her reckless accusations about Sheridan?
Marisa understood the facts of Nicky and Sheridan’s relationship, but she hadn’t yet untangled her own reaction to it, and at that moment, with her thoughts wrapped up in Daisy, she couldn’t spare the emotional or mental energy to do so.
She had taken a step away from the car, but stopped and looked over her shoulder. “Will you be at my Christmas party tomorrow night?”
Nicky’s shoulders and chest moved as he inhaled deeply. “I don’t know. I’m not really up for the company.”
He means my company. “Will you come? Even if it’s just for a little while? Just one Christmas, and I’ll stop asking about the others.”
A muscle twitched in his jaw. “I don’t think I belong here anymore.”
He didn’t want to belong. She could hear it in his voice. “Okay, I understand.” She turned her back on him and walked away.
In the silence of her much-too-empty house, Marisa curled on the couch. With her face buried in the pillow, she could smell Daisy’s dog shampoo on the cushions, but she caught tantalizing whiffs of Nicky’s scent too—the deep tones of cedar subtly softened by a summer storm.
Don’t get used to it. He’s already left, and he’s not coming back.
Nicky drove back to vet’s clinic, entering the small building just as Robert stepped out of the surgical room. “How is she?” Nicky asked.
“Hanging in there after her first surgery. She’s old, but still healthy and strong, so that counts in her favor. She’s stable, so far, though the next twenty-four hours will still be chancy.”
Nicky nodded, glancing through the glass panel on the door. Daisy lay unmoving on the steel table.
Was she the streak of black that had dashed out into the streets on Thanksgiving night, causing him to crash his bike?
Maybe, but I don’t think we’ll ever know for sure.
He reached into the back pocket of his denim jeans. “I want to leave my credit card number with you. I’m picking up all of Daisy’s vet expenses.”
Robert stared at him. “You don’t even know how much it is.”
“You said $8,000 to $10,000. It would have been a stretch for Marisa, but she would have found a way anyway. On the other hand, I’m good for it.”
Robert took the Nicky’s credit card and handed it over to the receptionist. “Make a copy of it for Daisy’s file.” He looked back at Nicky. “Are you sure? It’s a lot of money to pay to save her dog.”
“In a way, Daisy’s my dog, too,” he said. “And one more thing. I don’t want Marisa to know.”
Chapter 10
The doorbell rang, and Marisa set aside the ham she had taken out of the oven before scurrying to open the door. Michael’s parents, Gloria and Rick, stood outside, their arms laden with trays of fruit and cheese. Marisa stepped aside for them to enter. “You can put the appetizers on the side table. The ham’s ready, and the green bean casserole and mashed potatoes are minutes away from being done.”
“Your place looks lovely, dear,” Gloria said. “And how is Eva doing?”
Marisa released her breath audibly, the sound almost a sigh. “She was upset about Daisy, and combined with Nicky leaving, she’s been off all day. Whinier than usual.”
Rick huffed. “I’ll go keep her company and make sure she stays out of your way while you two ladies finish setting up here.”
Gloria set her hand on her hip and shook her head. “Always the first to run away when there’s work to be done.” She turned her concerned gaze to Marisa. “And how are you doing?”
“Keeping busy. There hasn’t been any time to stop and think, and it’s been a good thing.” Her voice broke slightly.
“I know how much Daisy means to you. She’s more your dog than Eva’s.”
Marisa managed a thin smile. “That’s true. She’s going to be okay, though. Robert, the vet, has been keeping me updated. She made it through the surgery, and they’ll be monitoring her for infections, but everything’s looking good so far.”
“That’s wonderful.”
Marisa nodded. “When I asked Robert if he wanted me to put a down payment on the vet bills, he said someone had already come by and paid for all of it, not just whatever costs had been incurred, but Daisy’s full care, up to the point when she’s released, whenever that might be.”
“Who did it?”
Marisa swallowed hard through the lump in her throat. “It was Nicky. Robert didn’t want to tell me, but I called back later and one of the technicians
answered the phone. I guess the tech hadn’t been told to keep a secret, so when I asked about Daisy’s case, she told me that Nicky had left his credit card with instructions to charge everything to it.” She stared down at her trembling hands. “I don’t know why he would have done that.”
The flicker of motion caught Marisa’s eyes. Gloria had turned her face away. Her mother-in-law pressed her lips together and stared out through the glass door into the backyard where Rick played with Eva.
“What is it?” Marisa asked. Her eyebrows drew together. “You know something I don’t. Is it about Nicky?”
“It’s all in the past.”
“Why does everyone say that to me, like I’m a fragile person who needs to be protected from herself? What are you’re all keeping from me?”
“There’s no point in going over it.”
“Yes, there is. It has to do with Daisy, doesn’t it?”
Gloria sighed as she lowered herself to sit at the kitchen table. “Come, sit with me.”
Marisa sat slowly and carefully, as if sudden movements might cause her to shatter. Her heart thumped so loudly she had to strain to hear the words her mother-in-law softly uttered.
“The night before your wedding, Michael came over to the house to talk to me. He was drunk—a little, not much—but he was upset. He said Nicholas hadn’t come to his bachelor party, and that he probably wasn’t going to be at the wedding either.”
“And he wasn’t.”
“And Michael blamed himself for it. He wanted to call off the wedding.”
“What?”
“He didn’t think he deserved happiness. Didn’t think he deserved you.”
“I don’t understand.”
Gloria slid her hand over Marisa’s. “Daisy…” She inhaled deeply, as if bracing herself. “Daisy was Nicholas’s gift to you. Nicholas had bought her, and he was on his way over to your house when he passed by our place. According to Michael, he and Michael spoke for a while, before Nicholas realized that he had left a specially purchased collar for Daisy back at his house. He asked Michael to hold on to Daisy while he ran back to the house for the collar.”
