For 100 Days

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For 100 Days Page 26

by Lara Adrian


  I immediately feel awkward, both for the reference to Nick belonging in any way to me, and because I didn’t think to make introductions. Neither of the men seem to notice or care.

  “Can I get you a beer, Nick?”

  “No!” Tasha and I both say in unison.

  Then, just like that, all of the stress and tension from Tasha’s ordeal tonight is lifted as she and I look at each other burst into laughter.

  “No beer for Nick, Tony,” she admonishes her husband.

  Nick glances between us and his eager host. I subtly shake my head at him in warning, but all it earns me is a questioning look. “Actually, I’d love a beer.”

  Tony grabs a couple of homebrews from the refrigerator while his mother serves tea to Tasha and me. The older woman doesn’t join us at the kitchen table, instead bids us all goodnight and takes her laundry off to another room.

  Nick takes a seat across from me. With a murmured thanks, he accepts his opened beer from Tony, who drops into the chair at the head of the table for six, next to his wife.

  “You doing okay, babe?”

  She nods. “Better now that I’m home.”

  Nick lifts his bottle to take a drink, but pauses when his phone chimes with an incoming call. Saved by the bell. He glances at the screen. “Will you all excuse me? I need to take this.”

  He steps out of the kitchen to speak privately, and I’m half tempted to knock his full bottle of beer off the table while he’s gone, if only to spare him from actually tasting it.

  Tasha nudges me after Nick’s out of earshot. “What’s going on with you two? I can’t tell if I’m feeling massive sexual energy or a cold war brewing between you guys.”

  I let loose a defeated sigh. “Some of both. I think I’m messing things up with him, Tasha.”

  “Well, cut it out. He’s really into you in case you haven’t noticed.”

  “You think so? Even now?”

  She rolls her eyes. “Duh! Every time he looks your way, I can feel the air crackle with heat.”

  Tony tugs one of her brown curls. “Kinda like us, eh, babe?”

  This time, Tasha doesn’t come back at him with a smartass quip or a dramatic eye-roll. Turning to her husband, she tenderly strokes his cheek. “Yeah, baby. Just like us.”

  Nick walks back into the room as they share a sweet kiss. “Sorry about that.” He slips the phone into his pocket. “A business matter I needed to tend to.”

  Tony grins at him. “You buy another hotel over in London or Dubai or something?”

  “Tony!” Tasha smacks his biceps. “That’s none of your business.”

  “It’s all right,” Nick says. “Nothing like that this time. Something more local.”

  I eye him, picking up on his cagey answer. And I know him too well to miss the faint glimmer of amusement in his eyes.

  He clears his throat as he sits back down at the table. “So, did you like working at Vendange, Tasha?”

  “Yeah.” She glances at him and shrugs. “I mean, I wasn’t doing rocket science there or anything, but it was enjoyable enough. The place is always busy, and I enjoy doing lots of different things there—tending bar and looking after inventory, training other employees on the computer and the menus. So, yeah. I liked it.”

  Nick contemplates her. “Sounds like you know what you’re doing.”

  Tony grins, pulling Tasha affectionately under his arm. “You kiddin’ me? My girl right here is smart as fuck, Nick. She knows that restaurant inside and out. She could run the damn place. Practically does already. Ain’t that right, Avery?”

  I nod, feeling the weight of Nick’s gaze slide toward me now. “Tasha’s amazing. She’s driven, hard-working. She can do anything she sets her mind to. The customers love her too.”

  “Well, listen, you guys,” she says. “I appreciate this love-fest and all, but none of it matters because I’m never going back to Vendange. Not if I have to get within a hundred yards of Joel.”

  Tony grunts. “Damn right you’re not. We’ll get by for a while until you find something else, babe. I don’t want you worrying about it, all right?”

  “What if Joel wasn’t there?”

  All three of us look at Nick, confused.

  “What do you mean?” Tasha asks. “Like, if I press charges or something? Get him arrested and have his ass fired?”

  “It’s up to you if you want to press charges.” Nick’s tone is even, but there is something cryptic in his expression. “If he was gone from Vendange for good, would you want to work there?”

  “Yeah. Of course.”

  “How would you like to manage it?”

  I gape at him, frowning. “Nick, what are you saying?”

  “I’m saying as of tomorrow morning, Vendange is under new management. Mine.”

  “What?” I can’t believe what I’m hearing. “But . . . how? And when did this happen?”

  “I spoke to my lawyer about it before we left Manhattan.”

  Of course. The curt conversation about a deal Nick wanted handled. This is what it was about?

  He glances to Tasha. “If you’re interested, my attorney, Andrew Beckham, will meet you at the restaurant tomorrow morning at seven A.M. to go over some paperwork.”

  “What about Joel?” I ask.

  “Beck has already informed him that the restaurant has a new owner and that his services are no longer required. Joel was escorted off the premises a few minutes ago.”

  “That was the call you just took?” I’m incredulous, and not a little impressed. “You just made all of this happen in a matter of a couple hours?”

  Nick nods as if buying businesses on a whim and making a clean sweep of their toxic assets is something he does every day. Which, yeah, of course, it probably is.

  Tasha seems even more astonished than I am. “I can’t believe you did this. I can’t believe you’re offering me this chance. Are you seriously offering me the job?”

  “Very serious. Vendange is a thriving business from what I’ve gathered tonight. I think, with better management, it could be a very lucrative investment. For everyone involved.” He holds his hand out to her. “So, what do you say? Are you in?”

  She beams at him, nodding enthusiastically as they shake hands across the table. “I’m in.”

  Tony tilts his bottle toward Nick. “Well, hell. I’ll drink to that.”

  Chapter 37

  “I can’t believe you drank Tony’s homemade beer.” I brave a glance at Nick from the passenger seat of his car, looking for some way to break the ice between us. We only left Tasha’s house ten minutes ago, but it feels like days because Nick has barely spoken to me. “One sip of that awful home brew was enough for me the day I tried it, but you actually drank the whole bottle.”

  He shrugs, slanting me a brief look. “Not a fan of hops soaked in old gym socks, I take it?”

  A laugh bursts out of me. “I know, right? God, it was terrible. You really didn’t have to drink it, you know.”

  “No, but if I hadn’t, I would’ve insulted my host.” Another shrug, but this one is accompanied by one of his crooked, boyish smiles that makes my insides melt. “I’ll survive. For the record, I’ve been offered worse in the name of hospitality.”

  “Really? I can’t imagine.”

  He grunts in acknowledgment. “Did you know there’s a beer in Japan that’s made with milk?”

  Repulsed, I wrinkle my nose. “No, I did not know that.”

  “I wish I could say the same. Do yourself a favor and stay away from it.”

  My mouth curves wryly. “I’ll be sure to do that.”

  I relax into my seat as Nick navigates the BMW into the fast lane and speeds ahead of the other cars. I’m nursing a small glimmer of relief as I watch him drive. Maybe we can end the evening on a lighter mood than it began. I hope so. I’m praying I still have a chance to build a bridge across the crevasse I dug between us back at the apartment. The kindness he showed my friends tonight seems like a promising start.

/>   “Thank you for being here with me, Nick. And for what you’re doing for Tasha too. I mean, buying Vendange? Getting rid of Joel? That’s an incredibly generous thing for you to do. You’re a good man.”

  “No, Avery. I’m not a good man.” He’s quiet for a moment, then he glances at me, his expression unreadable in the dim light of the dashboard. “What I am is a good businessman. The restaurant is a solid investment. If Tasha is as competent as you and Tony believe, then hiring her to manage the place only seems sensible.”

  I nod, but inside I’m deflated. “Well, you made a good decision where she’s concerned. Tasha won’t let you down.”

  Unlike me, I can’t help thinking, as the silence between us stretches long again.

  I gaze out the car window, seeing none of the zooming traffic or the glow of the city that surrounds us. I see sunny blue skies and miles of crystalline water. I see Nick smiling at me on the deck of the Icarus, looking at me with the same kind of insatiable hunger that I have for him.

  I see the long strand of creamy pearls coiled around my wrists while he shows me pleasures I never dared dream I could want.

  Trust, he told me as he presented his extravagant gift to me.

  Honesty.

  The only way they’ll break is if you pull away from me . . .

  Nick’s words are still echoing in my mind after we make the rest of the drive into Manhattan. We ride up in the elevator together, not to the penthouse, but to the fifth floor. He steps out with me and walks me to the apartment, hanging behind me as I fumble the key into the lock. My hands are not cooperating, probably because of the mist of tears threatening to fill my eyes.

  I flinch when Nick’s large hand closes over my fingers, warm and strong. “Here. I’ve got it.”

  Reaching around me, he opens the door, but neither one of us makes a move to go inside.

  “Nick,” I murmur, uncertain what I mean to say to him. There is so much I want him to know right now, but the words all jam in my tightening throat.

  I’m sorry.

  I’m scared.

  I’m sick with the thought that we might be over. If not here and now, then very soon. When Claire comes home and I have to tell Nick that I’m homeless, jobless . . . a liar who’s strung him along this whole time, pretending I belonged in his world.

  And I’m damaged. Not only from my stepfather’s abuse, but from the violent aftermath of that horrific, explosive night nine years ago. The consequences of those final hours he was alive will stay with me forever—even if my mother finally does get her freedom one day. My shame and my secret are scars I’ll never lose.

  Nick needs to know that I’m a coward. This is the confession I truly need to give him. It’s the only one I might be able to make him understand.

  “Nick,” I say again, my voice a threadbare whisper as I turn around to face him in the threshold. His eyes burn into me, unblinking, expectant. It’s a struggle to hold his gaze, but I force myself not to look away. “Nick . . . I’ve been basically on my own since I was sixteen years old. It’s not easy for me to trust. It’s not . . . it’s not easy for me to let someone in.”

  “What happened when you were sixteen?” His eyes hold me, both tender and demanding. “Tell me.”

  I swallow, wishing I could glance away, but his gaze won’t release me.

  “Why were you on your own that young?”

  I watch a tendon pulse in his jaw as he speaks. I’ve seen him haunted before, and it’s there in his eyes again. Shadows that shield whatever torment he’s been made to endure. Dark, private secrets he guards well—maybe as well as I guard my own.

  “You’re asking me to tell you something I’ve never told anyone before, Nick.” I shake my head, feeling us slip back to where we started earlier tonight. “You’re asking me to tell you something that can’t be taken back.”

  A scowl furrows his brow and that tendon that was pulsing before now begins to throb under the hard clench of his jaw. “I’m not here to hurt you. I’ll keep you safe, Avery.”

  But he can’t. No one can. My mother did her best to keep me safe, and it cost her dearly. I can’t drag Nick into my past. At first, I couldn’t allow it because I didn’t know him, didn’t trust him. Now, I can’t let him in because I care too much.

  I’m falling in love with him, and he’s asking me to tell him the one thing that could shatter that to pieces.

  I cut away from his penetrating stare. It’s too painful to see the displeasure, the cool emotional retreat, settle over his handsome face.

  “I’ve got business matters to handle in the morning,” he announces crisply. “If you want to continue this conversation, text or call me and let me know. I want to give you time, Avery, but I’m not a patient man.”

  I nod, but inside, my heart is twisting painfully. When I speak, my voice sounds choked and small. “I don’t want this to be goodbye, Nick.”

  “Then don’t let it be. I’m giving you the choice.”

  I understand how much this offer is costing him. Dominic Baine is not a man who surrenders control to anyone. Yet he’s handing it over it to me. I want to accept it as the gift I know it to be, but my fear keeps me silent.

  Instead, I reach up tentative to caress his cheek. He lets me touch him, a small concession that I latch on to like a life line. He’s disappointed with me, even angry. But our physical connection isn’t broken. Not yet, anyway. Not unless I am willing to throw it away.

  It’s the last thing I want to do. But he’s asking me for the one thing I cannot give him. Not now. Not ever.

  He stands stock-still, his expression guarded, schooled to a dangerous calm as I trace my fingers over the dark shadow on his jaw. Then he draws back, out of my reach, and places the apartment key in my hand.

  “Goodnight, Avery.”

  Chapter 38

  After a restless night without much sleep and half the morning spent drifting around the apartment like a boat cut away from its anchor, I’m relieved to get a text from Tasha inviting me to swing by Vendange before the start of the lunch rush.

  Seeing my friend is just the medicine I need today. God knows, I need some kind of diversion from my thoughts and my own miserable company.

  Be there in twenty.

  Great! she replies. Also? I totally adore your boyfriend. Don’t tell him I said that!

  As I sign off, my smile is automatic, even if it hurts. Tasha’s excitement and gratitude toward Nick give me a fresh stab of regret for just how badly I left things with him last night. I don’t know how I’m going to fix the mess I’ve made. I’m not even certain that I can.

  If he can forgive that I’ve lied to him about my work and living situation all this time, I doubt he’ll be as willing to overlook the rest of my secrets. Not when he can have any woman he wants. Women who don’t come with my baggage and the complications they would bring to our lives.

  He doesn’t need that kind of burden. And I can’t ask him to bear it for me.

  Nine years ago, I put a monster in a box. I locked it up tight and threw away the key, and I can’t open it ever again. Not even for Nick. God, especially not for him.

  He would never look at me the same again.

  No one would.

  Shoving the ghosts of my past back where they belong, I shower quickly, then pull my damp hair into a ponytail and brush on some mascara and lip gloss.

  It’s so warm and sunny outside, my impulse is to slip into one of the summer dresses Nick bought for me in Miami. But today it doesn’t feel right to touch any of the gifts he’s given me. They don’t belong to me. Not anymore—if they ever truly did. And wearing any of them now would only worsen the ache inside me.

  Instead, I toss on a pair of jeans and flats and top the outfit off with a breezy linen blouse. I grab my purse and cell phone, then catch the subway to Midtown.

  Tasha is at one of the tables on the main floor going over schedules with a couple employees as I walk in. She waves, then says something to the crew before they all get
up and go back to work.

  “Hey, girl!” She hurries over and pulls me into a tight hug. “I’m so happy to see you.”

  I return her smile, feeling genuinely pleased for her. “How’s it going?”

  “Awesome.” Her brown eyes are wide with enthusiasm and energy. “Nick had his attorney call everyone in early this morning to tell them about the changes. They’re all being really cool about the fact that I’m managing now. I don’t think anyone’s sorry to see Joel gone.”

  I nod, taking in the busy, but less harried, vibe in the place today. And I can’t help but notice that the dress code is already improved too. No more low-cut tops and high heels on any of the female servers. Like Tasha, the other women are dressed in black pants and tops, but with decidedly less cleavage on display.

  As we’re talking, Kimmie comes out of the kitchen area carrying a crate of bar glasses, still steaming from the dishwasher. Her blond hair is limp and drooping in her face as she schleps the heavy glassware to the bar and begins racking it up for the day’s use.

  Tasha catches my amused look and shrugs. “I demoted her to kitchen runner. She might be the only one who’ll have trouble adjusting to the new world order around here.”

  I shake my head, unable to tame my smile. “You’re bad.”

  “Hey, I just want the work done right. And I’ll be fair about it. I told Kimmie if she works hard and does a good job, I’ll consider putting her back on the floor at some point.”

  I laugh, feeling overwhelmed with joy for my friend. I have no doubt she’s going to make Vendange an even bigger success. “I’m glad this all worked out for you, Tasha. You deserve this.”

  “I don’t know if that’s true, but I’m going to do my damnedest to make you proud.” She grins. “I don’t suppose I could talk you into coming back to Vendange, now that Joel is gone?”

  “Ah, probably not a good idea.” I don’t tell her that the new owner likely wouldn’t clear me for hire anyway, especially since that Nick and I aren’t on speaking terms. “I appreciate the thought, but I’m sure you’ll do fine without me.”

  “You know what’s really amazing? I get to hire a night manager in a couple of months after things smooth out. Not only do I have this great opportunity with better pay, but I’ll get to spend more time at home with Zoe too.” She’s beaming, practically glowing with happiness. “I owe all of this to you, Avery. Well, and to Nick, of course. Speaking of our favorite bazillionaire, where is he today?”

 

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