“No,” he said.
“Let’s start again.”
“OK,” he said in a confused voice, shooting a look at his friend.
“You never told me you were going to print my story.”
“I did,” he said quickly. “I did, though I guess you were too drunk to remember.”
It was possible, but I didn’t believe him. I was drunk enough to lose my reservations and spill my frustrations to a cute stranger, but I wasn’t drunk enough to forget what we said.
“I don’t believe you. And I think it’s just as unethical to ask a drunk person that question as to not ask at all, don’t you?”
“Well. ...” He cast a look around as if hoping to be rescued by someone.
“Nick, do you know what your column has caused?”
He smiled. “Actually, people really responded. I got a lot of emails.”
“No. Do you know what it has caused to happen to me?”
“No,” he said slowly. His eyes darted over my shoulder, and I glanced back to see Lily walking up the aisle toward us.
I tensed, not wanting Lily to watch Nick shoot me down. He wasn’t showing much remorse. And knowing Lily, she’d only make me feel more like a naïve idiot, even if she was trying to help.
“Uh-oh,” he said. “It’s the overprotective friend.”
“I was right to worry, wasn’t I?” Lily said.
“What happened, Edie? Your parents’ mad?” he asked.
“You could say that.”
“I’m sure if you just talked to them—”
“Nick,” I said quietly, patting the duffel bag for effect, “this bag is not a bomb. It’s—”
I sighed, unable to maintain the self-righteous tirade I’d been intent on delivering. “We had a fight about the column. I’m homeless.”
“What?” he exclaimed. “Well, that just goes to show. You should let me write another article—”
“No!” Lily and I both yelled.
Nick held up his hands in peace. “OK, OK, I won’t. Just calm down.”
He glanced around the newsroom and grimaced, probably because it was full of nosy reporters watching the scene unfold.
“What do you want from me, then?” he asked.
I glanced sidelong at Lily, and her gaze reassured me. I took strength from her resolve, and turned back to him.
“Well, as you heard, I’m homeless.”
“Yeah.”
“But, you have a home, don’t you?”
Nick was quick to catch my drift. He looked at me in astonishment, his dark blue eyes wide.
“You’re kidding, right?”
“You owe me, Nick. I need a place to stay, and you’ve got a place.”
“Uh-huh, and how do I know you wouldn’t kill me in my sleep?” he joked. No one laughed, and his smile faded. “Shit. You’re serious, aren’t you?”
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak.
“Look, Edie, I’m sorry about your parents, but surely you have a friend” — he paused to look pointedly at Lily —“who could let you couch surf for a couple of days.”
“Actually, I don’t,” I said quietly.
He gave me a searching look, and then turned to Lily, but she didn’t give him any easy answers.
“That’s not the point anyway,” she said, taking on a confrontational tone I’d only managed for the first few moments of our interaction.
My gaze dropped while Lily let Nick have it, feeling both relieved and ashamed I didn’t have to be the one to say it.
“You screwed her over, Nick,” Lily said harshly. “She has no place to go, and she’s trying to save for college. What you did was wrong.”
He released a heavy breath. “Damn.”
I glanced up to see him running fingers through his hair in agitation.
“I didn’t mean for this to happen, but come on. This is crazy. You don’t even know me. I could be a creep.”
“You better not be,” Lily said forcefully. “I know your name and where you work. I know that what you did is grounds to get you fired, or at least written up. So don’t even think—“
“Whoa!” He held up his hands. “There’s no need for threats. Jesus.”
I nudged Lily’s side and nodded toward the exit. “Let me handle this. Can you please just wait in the car?”
Lily huffed, glowering at Nick, but conceded defeat. “Fine. But if he gets out of line at any point, I’m gonna skewer him.”
She jabbed a finger at him for emphasis, then turned and stalked out of the room, her blond ponytail swinging behind her.
“You two should take that show on the road.”
My face heated. “This isn’t funny. My life is a mess, and you’re making jokes!”
I turned away, unable to look at him. My blurry gaze took in the few people scattered through the newsroom, mostly focused on their computers. A few looked our direction, curiosity written in their expressions. Two big glass offices sat across the room, where I figured Nick’s editors and publishers worked.
He cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Sorry. I know it’s not funny.”
“I could tell your boss,” I mumbled, still not looking at him.
I’d sent Lily away because she’d been on the verge of pissing him off beyond reason. I needed him to be sorry enough to let me stay, not defensive and angry. But now that she was gone, I’d lost my backbone.
“What was that?”
Nick stood and moved in front of me, bowing his head to look in my eyes. He was only a few inches taller than me, enough that we weren’t eye level naturally, but not so much he had to strain himself to meet my gaze.
He was close enough to kiss. Just a small lift onto my toes, and a slight tilt of his head, and we’d connect.
I took a step back. Kissing was not on the agenda, now or ever. Nick was gorgeous, and older, and currently more enemy than friend.
Reaching down deep for my resolve, I repeated myself more firmly.
“Give me a place to stay, so I don’t have to go to that big glass office over there.” I waved in the general direction of the offices on the other side of the room. “I don’t think your boss would like you doing interviews at parties where there’s underage drinking, do you?”
He looked past my shoulder to his buddy.
“Don’t look at me,” the pale guy said. “This is your mess.”
He turned his eyes to his computer screen and began tapping keys.
“Okay, I can see you mean business. So, if I agree to this, you won’t hold it over my head? We’ll be square?”
“We’re square,” I agreed.
He sighed and scrubbed a hand down his face.
“I cannot believe I’m saying yes to this,” he muttered, and I felt the biggest smile break across my face.
I did it. I actually convinced him to own up to his mistake and make it right. It wasn’t until that moment I realized I never expected him to accept my proposal.
He pushed around some of the loose notes on his desk, lifting an extra copy of the newspaper and peering under it, until he found his keys. He grabbed them up.
I hoped his apartment was less cluttered than his desk.
He stood and swung my duffel over his shoulder. “Let’s go, then. I’ll drive you to my apartment.”
“Okay,” I said, standing to follow him toward the exit. I suddenly felt awkward now that I didn’t have an argument to win.
“I just hope my girlfriend understands,” he said.
I stopped short in shock. I’d never considered that possibility.
He laughed. “Just kidding. Had you worried there for a minute, didn’t I?”
I didn’t answer. I let my glare say it all.
NICK
The drive to my apartment was incredibly awkward.
Edie Mason had transformed back into the mouse I’d met at the party now that she didn’t have an argument to win. I wasn’t sure if I made her withdraw, or if she was naturally an introvert, but it didn’t do much to lighten my mood.
I’d rolled into the newsroom that morning with such a good feeling about the lonely graduate column. Tanya had given me the “well done” nod, about as close to praise as you ever got from her. A few reader emails also came in – the best praise of all – and I’d been giving myself a pat on the back.
Then my cellphone rang.
Elana’s name flashed on the screen, and just like that my pride swirled down the toilet as guilt took over.
I’d sent her call straight to voicemail without answering, which resulted in Sean razzing me about being a player. He knew I screened a lot of my calls, but I wasn’t about to correct his assumption and explain why I’d been celibate more than a year.
Edie had strolled in with her ultimatum shortly after, so all in all, my good morning had gone into the crapper.
But I suppose in Edie’s eyes, that was no less than I deserved.
I glanced over as we pulled up to a stoplight, but she kept her face turned to the passenger window. Her posture screamed uncomfortable: shoulders hunched, arms crossed protectively over her abdomen, legs crossed.
“So,” I said.
For conversation starters, it was crap, but it seemed to do the trick.
She turned to me. “I’m not stupid, you know. I didn’t know you were related to Carlos. And with your eyes, you really don’t look that much like him.”
I squinted, not sure why we were talking about Carlos.
“I feel kind of bad, thinking of all that crap I said about him. I wouldn’t have if I’d known you were family.”
The memory resurfaced of our brief comments when we’d first met on the stairs.
“Oh, yeah. No apology necessary. Carlos might be my cousin, but everything you said was true.”
She muttered something under her breath. I pulled the car into a parking space and cut the engine.
“What was that?”
She glanced up. “I said, I might as well have been talking about you.”
I stared at her, offended but unsure how to defend myself. I wasn’t anything like Carlos. Was I?
“Right?” she prompted when I didn’t answer.
I shook my head and opened the car door. “I really hope not. Come on, I’ll walk you in, and then I’ve got to get back to work.”
EDIE
I stepped inside Nick’s apartment and looked around nervously.
I felt less excited about this prospect now that it was reality and not a far-fetched revenge fantasy. The tense ride to the apartment didn’t help, either.
The only furniture in the living room were two gaming chairs, the type that offered back support while you sat on the floor. Directly across from them hung a huge flat-screen TV. It had to be at least 52 inches. Cords snaked down the plain white walls to a jumble of gaming systems and discs strewn around. Next to one of the chairs, an open take-out container still sat, with remnants of kung-pao chicken lending a stale food aroma to the room.
In the corner, a flimsy desk held a computer, but there wasn’t much else to see.
Taking in what was in the room — or rather, what wasn’t in the room — had me wondering what I’d gotten myself into.
“This is all the furniture you have?”
I hurried into the hall and poked my head into the first room.
It had to be his bedroom. The apartment was too small to have more than one room and a guy who didn’t even have living room furniture would never prepare a guest room.
A queen-sized bed was crammed into the tiny room, leaving room for a single chest of drawers near the foot of the bed. There was no walking room. You had to crawl over the bed to get to the tiny closet tucked in the back corner.
I withdrew from the doorway, and spun around to find Nick standing too close for comfort. He looked sheepish, running a hand over his jaw.
“I’ve been meaning to buy a few things for a while now. I used to spend a lot of time at my family’s house, but not so much anymore—” He stopped and winced. “Shit, I probably shouldn’t have mentioned my family given your situation. Sorry.”
I tried to shrug it off. “It’s just the truth.”
An awkward silence followed my statement. To my horror, I could feel the first pinpricks of tears behind my eyes. I couldn’t cry in front of him. I was here to teach him a lesson, not turn into a weepy little girl.
Thankfully, he sensed my need for a subject change.
“How about I give you the penny tour?” he asked with a bright smile.
It wasn’t the cocky smile he’d shown at the office, when he’d cracked jokes about my mess of a life. This smile was more genuine, and it amped up his good looks so they were more difficult to ignore. Just what I needed.
“What, I don’t get the nickel tour?”
“It has to take more than a minute to charge a nickel,” he said with a wink.
He could flirt all he wanted; it wasn’t going to change what he’d done.
I narrowed my eyes determinedly and did my best to maintain a serious scowl while he showed me the kitchen. A narrow space between a counter that doubled as a breakfast bar and the appliances made for little cooking space. There were no dishes, though, so maybe he wasn’t a terrible slob.
“A one-butt kitchen,” I observed.
He chuckled. “Not even that for me. This butt has never cooked a thing in there.”
Well, that explained the lack of dirty dishes.
He led me to the bathroom, and swung the door open. Oh God, he is a total slob.
Bottles littered the top of the counter: Shaving cream, aftershave (no wonder he smelled so good), more hair products than I’d ever owned. The sink had a glob of toothpaste stuck on one side, but it was the toilet and shower that horrified me. I cringed at the hair stuck all over the rim of the toilet and the furry mold starting up in the corner of the shower.
“Guess I need to clean in here. Sorry.”
“You think?”
I shuddered and hastily made a retreat, squeezing past him and out the door. He followed me into the hall.
“It’s no excuse, but I don’t exactly have a lot of visitors here, if you know what I mean.”
That he didn’t bring girls back to the place was a small comfort, if that’s what he meant. I didn’t want the awkward scenario of being asked to leave so he could get it on with some woman of questionable taste. Forcing my thoughts away from the image of Nick and some faceless girl getting it on in his bed, I focused on the problem at hand.
“I assumed you’d at least have a couch for me to sleep on.”
He grinned, his easygoing attitude back in full force. “You know what they say about assuming.”
I heard the phrase as if he’d said it out loud. My eyes narrowed. “You really want to go there right now?”
He took a step back at my tone. “No.”
“Good call.”
He cleared his throat. “You can sleep in my bed. Without me, I mean.” He waggled his brows. “Unless you like to cuddle at night?”
And the cocky grin returned.
“No, thanks,” I said flatly, unwilling to joke about a scenario that would put us in bed together. I couldn’t imagine a less likely situation. “If I take the bed, where will you sleep?”
“I’ll find somewhere warm to sleep, even if it’s not here.”
Oh, great. So I was now the cause of Nick using some poor girl for a bed. Gross.
He shoved his hand in his pocket and pulled out his keys, jangling them in his hand. “Make yourself at home. I have to get back to work.”
He headed for the door, and I hurried after him. “What about my stuff, where should I. …”
I trailed off. We hadn’t really made clear how long I was staying. Would the idea of more than two or three days have my butt hitting the curb before nightfall?
“Nevermind. I’m good.”
He hesitated at the door, seeming unsure how to respond. “It’s a small place, but just make room where you can. Maybe later I can pull some stuff out of the close
t.”
As the door shut behind him, I took another look around the room and swallowed hard. I’d never felt so adrift in my life. It wasn’t the first time I’d changed homes. I’d gone from living with Mom in a trailer to living in a moderate but nice ranch house with my dad.
But it was the first time I’d been homeless.
Because staying with Nick or not, that’s what I was: homeless. And even if I apologized my heart out, which I wasn’t prepared to do, I had a feeling I could never go home again.
NICK
I closed out of my computer at 6, relieved to be headed out. I’d had to make up some lost time after deciding to make a detour to Furniture Mart to buy a much-needed sleeper sofa. They couldn’t deliver until tomorrow, which I figured was just about as long as I wanted to put up with sleeping on the floor.
I can’t believe I’m gonna sleep on the floor in my own apartment.
I could go to Mama’s, and make up some excuse like I did the night I’d crashed Carlos’ party. But there was always the off chance I’d run into Elana. I’d rather sleep on the floor a week than give her the opportunity to corner me and talk.
I didn’t want to go to Carlos’ place, either. Returning to the scene of the crime would just add to my guilt about Edie’s situation, and I had enough guilt already, thank you very much.
I rolled back in my chair and stretched my arms over my head. “Well, suckers, I’m outta here!”
Sean, my closest friend in the office, worked cops and courts and was always among the last to go. I usually jetted out about 5 p.m., one more reason I liked being a columnist rather than a breaking news reporter. It wasn’t about public service and freedom of the press for me; I just liked to write.
“Hey, Nick, hold up a sec,” he said when I’d finished packing up my laptop and slung the case over my shoulder.
I paused in the aisle next to his desk, and watched as he closed his story and moved it to the editing queue for the copy desk to read through.
“What happened with that chick who came in?” he asked.
“Oh, now you’re interested,” I said dryly. “You were working so hard not to get her attention you almost turned yourself invisible this morning.”
Sean rose from his chair, and joined me on the way out of the office. He grinned at my comment.
Earning Edie (Espinoza Boys #1) Page 4
