Some of her anger seemed to dissipate as our eyes met from across the room. She shook her head. “Forget it, okay? You don’t understand.” She stared at the floor for a moment, and then lifted her eyes back to mine. “Just. . .just be careful, okay?” She turned and left the room.
“Be careful? What does that even mean?” I hollered after her, but her bedroom door clicked shut without a response. I sat on the edge of my bed, bewildered, wondering what had just gone down. Of course, I had expected a little resistance from Brooke when I eventually told her about me and Nathan, but her reaction went way beyond a ‘little resistance’. She was right, I didn’t understand. Part of me wanted to bang on her door and demand an explanation, but the bigger part had no desire to get into it right now. I was startled by the vibration of my phone, signaling an incoming text.
NATHAN: Come downstairs. NOW.
I typed back furiously.
Ur still here? Not sure this is a good time. Brooke is pissed!
NATHAN: I’m here. I know she is.
NATHAN: Please. Not leaving till I see you.
I warred between wanting to see Nathan, and not wanting to further press my luck. Brooke had been good to me, and I didn’t want to mess that up, her current anger notwithstanding. She was kinda the only friend I had, not counting Nathan. And yes, I was counting him. He was no longer just my friend, but that was beside the point. My phone vibrated again.
NATHAN: On my way up.
I raced to the door, my fingers fumbling over the keys as I frantically typed.
NO! I’m coming right now.
I saw him as soon as I was outside. He was standing outside his SUV, leaning against the passenger door. He straightened and walked over to me, stopping just short of smashing into me. “I thought you said she wasn’t due home until one.”
“I don’t know. That’s what she said.” I wanted to be back in Boston, where Nathan and I were alone, together, and none of this mattered. “What if she says something? She is really pissed, Nathan.”
Nathan raised his hands to clasp around my upper arms. I stiffened and stepped back, and his arms fell to his sides. He ran his hands through his hair and sighed. “Right. Sorry.” He moved closer and took my hand. “I don’t think she will, but if she does, we’ll deal with it, okay? Being the boss’s son does have its occasional perk.”
“What will happen? Could I be fired?”
He squeezed my hand and his tone was firm. “No. Absolutely not. What real proof does she have anyway? So she saw me bringing you home. It could mean any number of things. It will be her word against ours.”
I didn’t like the sound of that. I didn’t want to get into a ‘he said-she said’ war with Brooke. Besides, I had already pretty much admitted to sleeping with him anyway, so wasn’t that basically an admission of guilt on my part? I couldn’t believe we were even having this conversation.
“I don’t even know why she’s so mad. She was practically singing your praises just a few weeks ago.”
“Singing my praises? Do tell,” Nathan joked, and brushed a lock of hair back from my face. He waited until I met his gaze and then was back to all business. “Stop. Let’s not jump to conclusions. Like I said, I doubt Brooke is going to say a word. I just wanted to see you and make sure you were okay. That we were okay.”
I watched as traffic whizzed by and people went about their day, and then looked back at him. “Yeah, I am. We are.”
He squeezed my hand again, his relief evident. “Good. Now, go back inside before she comes down here looking for you and finds me instead.” He brought my hand up to his lips and kissed it. I watched his mouth and felt the familiar tightening in my stomach. He smiled, recognizing the look in my eyes. “Later,” he promised. “Now, go. I will see you tomorrow, okay?”
I went back up to the apartment, Brooke nowhere in sight. I spied her door, still firmly shut against the outside world, seeming to exude as much anger as the person behind it. I tapped lightly on the door, not really wanting to have this confrontation now, but figuring I should do what I could to make it right. This was her apartment after all. She didn’t answer, and silence loomed as I stood in the hall. Well, I tried.
I headed back to my room and unpacked, then flopped down on the bed. It was in the middle of the afternoon, and I had nothing to do. I was bored.
And I missed Nathan. Terribly.
I woke the next morning early, dressed and silently crept out to the kitchen. There was no sign of Brooke, which struck me as odd. Granted, she could have already left for the office, but the kitchen and bathroom showed no signs of her having went about her morning routine. I grabbed my bag and tiptoed to her room, where the door remained firmly shut. I hadn’t seen or heard from her all afternoon and evening, not even when Gabby had texted us an invitation for dinner, and not even when I’d replied all to the text and politely declined and then had ordered takeout, hollering through her door to come out and eat. It had been almost twenty hours since she’d barricaded herself behind this door and slammed it shut. What was she doing in there?
I knocked on the door. “Brooke? I know you’re in there. I’m leaving for work. Are you coming?”
I heard movement behind the door, but still no audible response. I pounded again. “Brooke! Talk to me, please. Are you okay?”
More movement. “No and no.” Her voice was soft, barely heard through her door, and I pressed my ear against it, straining to hear what she was saying.
“No, what? Can you just open the door so we can talk?” By contrast, my voice sounded overly loud in the silence of the hallway.
She must have stepped closer to the door because her voice was clearer. “I’m not okay, and I’m not coming.”
Not coming? Brooke never missed work. “Brooke, why—“
“Look, I’ll talk to you later, okay? I’ll be fine.” Her words trailed off and I imagined her walking back over to her bed, away from the door.
I hesitated a moment longer, and then shook my head and left for the office. With her all but dismissing me there wasn’t much more I could say, and I didn’t expect any further response anyway. I was still clueless as to why my involvement with Nathan had set her off this badly when she had been not so subtly telling me to just go for it a few short weeks ago. And now she was blowing off work? What had changed?
Nathan
I walked uncomfortably into my office. I’d just deposited Reagan at her office door, and the sight of her in that black pencil skirt and her mile high heels had almost been enough for me to ignore the fact that my father had security cameras everywhere, drag her into her office, lock the door and bury myself inside her. While I was sure my father had gotten more than a few eyefuls courtesy of his spy-cams, and had had more than his own fair share of footage erased, I couldn’t do that to Reagan. I was fairly confident in my claims that our involvement would pose no problem for her here, but that didn’t mean I had to be an idiot, either. There was the minor issue of the kisses we’d already shared in her office, but they could easily be explained away should it come to that.
However, if I was to continue keeping up the pretense, we definitely needed to discuss her office attire.
I had no sooner shut the door when Nancy’s voice came over the intercom. “Mr. Preston is on line one.”
I busied myself with pouring some coffee and perusing the Manhattan skyline from my office window, making sure Dad enjoyed the hold music, before settling into my chair. I stabbed the flashing light and leaned back. “Nathan Preston,” I answered, as if I didn’t know who was on the line. Sometimes it was just too easy.
“Where’s your cell phone? I do not appreciate having to be routed through your secretary like some goddamn employee,” my father practically snarled into the phone.
“Good morning, Dad. Are you sure you dialed correctly? You know how technology sometimes gets the best of you.” It was untrue. I had two missed, or rather ignored, calls from him and we both knew it.
“I don’t have time to be
labor your incompetence, Nathanial. I am on my way to the airport now and will be back in New York this evening. I expect status reports on all account activity that has transpired in my absence immediately upon my arrival.” The line went dead before I could respond further. Dad was never one for small talk.
It was interesting to note that he was still out of the country and yet Brooke was not, and I wondered if that accounted for his surlier than usual mood. Had he and his little side piece called it quits? There was a story there, and I made a mental note to seek out George and find out what he knew.
As for Brooke, I made another mental note to talk to her as well. In light of her secret—and yet so obvious—affair with my father, I highly doubted she would be making any noise about me and Reagan. Still, it didn’t hurt to cover all bases.
My cell phone rang, and seeing the name on the display, I smiled and answered. “Jake, what’s up?”
“A lot. Where you been? I haven’t seen or heard from you since you were all hell-bent on rescuing your latest interest from the clutches of Winston. How’d that go anyway?”
“All went well. You and I both know Tyler never stood a chance. So what do you mean by a lot? What’s going on?”
“Well, the realtor you recommended—thanks for that by the way—found some space for me in a business plaza that had been vacant for a while. Fairly reasonable rent, and it’s big enough to put a small practice in. So I’ve been busy with that. Got a few more weeks of remodeling yet, and still waiting on some certifications from the state, but once they come through and I hire some office staff, I’ll be good to go.”
“That’s awesome, Jake. I’m happy for ya, buddy.” I lazily opened up my office chat, the mouse hovering over Reagan’s name. Too soon?
“Thanks. Yeah, let’s get together sometime soon. I still need to meet this mystery woman that has you jumping through hoops and yet won’t let you in her pants.” That’s right. Jake didn’t know about the Boston trip and just how far in her pants I’d gotten in just two short days. Normally, I’d be using up bragging rights about my easy conquest, but it felt too. . . .off. Wrong, somehow.
I gave a light laugh. “Yes, soon,” I promised, offering no further details, and then after a few more moments of typical guy chatter, Jake hung up and I returned to my office chat.
It had only been what—thirty minutes?—since I’d deposited her at her door, but I already missed her. This was becoming nothing short of ridiculous. What was happening to me?
Refusing to explore that thought, and before I could talk myself out of it, I closed out the chat box and walked out of my office. “Hold my calls,” I absently told Nancy as I passed.
She was deep in concentration over whatever was on her computer screen when I entered her office, and the click of the door shutting as I closed it startled her. She looked at me, apprehension, nervousness and desire in those gorgeous dark eyes of hers, and I was gone enough to admit to myself that she was quite possible more beautiful now than when I’d seen her just a mere half hour ago.
I was truly losing it.
“Nathan, I—“ Reagan broke off as I crossed the distance to her desk, and leaned down to capture her mouth with my own. I knew I should not be doing this here, now, with cameras recording our every move, but I couldn’t exactly escort her to the bathroom—one of the few places the cameras could not view—and waiting until we both left the office was not an option.
Her lips parted beneath mine as a soft moan escaped her, and I slowly brought her to a standing position so I could wrap an arm around her waist, pressing her to me, letting her feel just how much she affected me. That was a mistake though, because she reached down and cupped me through my pants and I jerked in response, suddenly desperate to feel her skin against mine. I tore my mouth from hers and stepped back slightly. Her hand fell back to her side, and I watched as her pulse pounded heavily beneath the delicate skin of her neck.
“Hi,” I said softly.
She pressed her fingers to her mouth, and inhaled a shaky breath. “God, Nathan, what are you. . . I can’t. . .”
“I know. Me, too.” The idea that something more was happening between us was impossible to ignore. She didn’t know what to do about it, didn’t quite understand it. And I wasn’t sure I did either.
She sat back in her chair and I perched myself on the edge of her desk. “What are you doing here?”
“I don’t know, actually,” I answered honestly. “I wanted to see you.”
Her eyes softened. “You just saw me,” she chastised, but there was no real heat to her words.
“That was ages ago,” I replied, again being honest, because that is what it felt like. My interest in her wasn’t waning and I didn’t know what I was going to do about that just yet. “What are your plans for tonight, because I was thinking dinner and then perhaps dessert at my place.” And by dessert, of course I meant her.
She chewed on the end of her pen. “Can I let you know?”
This I didn’t expect. “What is there to think about?” If she was already retreating back to her safe zone less than thirty-six hours after returning home, I would probably come fucking unglued.
“Things are very unstable with Brooke. Did you know she didn’t even come to work today?”
I leaned back on the desk. “I did not. Interesting. But you know that you can’t hide from her forever. She already saw us and she’s not stupid.”
Reagan tossed the pen on the desk. “I know that. I just don’t know what is going on with her and she’s my roommate. . .I just need to figure out. . .something’s wrong, ya know? She never misses work.”
I sighed. I didn’t like it, but she did have a valid point. “Fine. But if you can’t get away tonight, at least call me and let me know things are alright. I would not be opposed to a little sexting, either.” I was only half joking.
She laughed and shook her head. “I’ll call you,” she promised as I stood up and headed to the door. I swung it open and almost barreled into Bailey Cooper, his hand raised as if he’d been ready to knock.
He dropped his hand and surveyed me with narrowed eyes. “Mr. Preston, pardon me, I didn’t realize you were here.”
I stared back at, mutual understanding passing between us. He may bat for the other team, but Mr. Cooper was still, after all, a man. “No harm done, Mr. Cooper. I was just getting an update from Miss Andrews on the J & J account.” I turned back to Reagan, who was doing her best to appear immersed in work. “Thank you again. She’s all yours,” I told Bailey as I exited the office and headed back to my own.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Reagan
Four months. That’s it; just four measly months was all it took to completely destroy life as I knew it. The life we’d had with Mom wasn’t easy, and it certainly wasn’t all that good, but it was OUR life. It was what we knew. And it was gone.
Alex was gone.
Apparently he had family outside of us. A father, who’d had no idea he was, but had discovered the news of Naomi’s death and her orphaned children quite literally by accident. A father who had cleaned himself up and was doing well in Houston, and couldn’t quite let the smallest possibility that one of these children could be his go. It was he and his parents, Alex’s grandparents that had come for him. Jacob had argued and pleaded with anyone who would listen to not take his brother, but his cries were not heeded. Tests had been ran, paperwork had been filed, and Alex’s daddy had come to take him home.
Four months.
Despite our resolve to stay together, Jacob and I had been placed in separate foster homes. I refused to eat the first two days, and snuck out every night searching for Jacob, having gotten it into my head that if I could just find his foster house, I’d be okay. My sneaking out was interpreted as defiance, and the fact that I head butt my foster father hard enough to break his nose the second his arms wrapped around mine in a forceful attempt to bring me back home, didn’t help. I was returned within a week.
Life at the second fos
ter home wasn’t any better, although they at least let me talk to Jacob on the phone, where he made me promise to be good, this was only temporary, and we’d find a way to be together soon.
But it wasn’t to be. Jacob was thriving at his foster house, thriving so well in fact that they wanted to officially adopt him. They had lost a son, and Jacob filled that void for them. While I remained bouncing from foster home to foster home. Apparently a bed-wetting thirteen year old who refused to allow anyone to touch her was not good adoption material.
Four months.
Four months, and I found myself staring across a table at a woman with eyes full of tears that she unsuccessfully tried to hide. A woman that started our acquaintance by simply telling me she was sorry, and then asking me if she could hold my hand.
We sat hand in hand across the table from each other for a solid hour, not speaking a word, and yet saying so much with our silence.
That woman was Helen, and the one I would eventually call Mom.
“And what, my dear, was that?”
“What was what?” I watched as Bailey made himself comfortable in the chair across from my desk. We both knew what he was referring to, but damned if I wasn’t gonna make him fish. “He came to get some files on the J & J account.”
“And yet, he left with nothing.” Bailey countered.
“Yeah, well, my update was small. There wasn’t much new to tell him.” God, I needed to get better at this lying thing if I ever wanted to keep my involvement with Nathan a secret.
“Probably because the man is here, getting an update, every other day.” He was having entirely too much fun at my expense, and I frowned at him.
“He’s the boss, B. He asks and I deliver.” Bailey’s eyebrows shot up under his hairline and I realized just how that had sounded. I rolled my eyes. “You know what I mean,” I muttered.
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