Wanting It

by Scarlet Wilder

  “Well, who?” I asked when I ran out of patience waiting for her.

  “Woke magazine!”

  My heart gave a flutter, and I made myself calm down before I replied. “We know that they’re here,” I said. “They were pretty much the biggest magazine we wanted.”

  “No, you don’t understand!” Hannah replied. “They want a one-on-one with you and a full spread!”

  Colleagues around me murmured their approval, and my boss, Bill, nodded vigorously. “This is great,” he said, grinning. “It’s exactly the kind of partnership we need. Great coverage from a publication that deals with conservation issues covering the award for the greenest building ever designed. Yes. Yes!”

  He couldn’t stop nodding, and he was about to send Hannah back to confirm when he stopped and called her back before she could run away. “Wait for a second,” he said. “I don’t want any of their interns covering this piece. I want someone experienced. If they’re going to do it, then it’s going to be done right.”

  “Oh, I don’t think there’ll be a problem,” Hannah giggled. “They’ve sent Jake Matthews. I knew it was him when I saw him. I mean, a girl never forgets a guy like that. But then he showed me his badge, too.”

  At that, the blood in my veins turned to ice.

  Did I want a one-on-one with Jake Matthews? What a question. Sure, it would be great if Woke wanted me for their magazine, because the publicity was unparalleled, but did they have to send him, of all people? I’d spent the morning with my head held high, my confidence overflowing. Now, I was back to being the quivering wreck who didn’t know if she’d be able to look him in the eye.

  I excused myself and went to the bathroom. Standing with my hands clutched around the basin, sure that the ceramic was going to shatter in my hands, I looked at myself in the mirror.

  I wasn’t crying. That was a good thing. My hair looked good, and my red dress clung to me in the all the right places. There was only one way to handle this: show Jake what he was missing.

  I strode out of there and called Hannah on the desk. “I’ve got ten minutes for Mister Matthews,” I said, my voice clipped. “He can come into room five if he’d like.”

  Room five was the best place. It was the largest of all our meeting rooms and was perfect for presentations. Floor to ceiling windows let in natural light at every angle and, while the freezing January afternoon wasn’t exactly the sunniest in the world, it was good enough. The scale models of each of my ideas were presented in glass cabinets, complete with tiny cabs and tiny people. The guys had done an amazing job of bringing my vision to life, if only on a very tiny scale, for now.

  I closed my eyes for a second, and looked out of the window, trying to apply some kind of breathing technique to slow my racing heart. Not that it did any good. When I heard the door open softly behind me and turned around, it swiftly picked up to what must have been a couple of hundred beats per minute.

  He looked the same. He might as well have left me only yesterday. His beard was trimmed neatly, his eyes were bright and smiling, and his body was as firm and strong as it ever was. In his smart gray suit and tie, camera bags over his shoulder, he looked every bit as perfect as he had the last time I saw him. I wanted to sink into the floor, passing out gracefully like some kind of heroine whose lover had just returned from the war, hoping he’d pick me up and scoop me into his arms with kisses and professions of undying love.

  Of course, that wasn’t about to happen. Instead, I blinked, walked over to him, and held out my hand. “Jake,” I said, cordially.

  “Miss Thomson,” he replied, taking my hand and shaking it gently. His large fingers wrapped around mine with soft firmness and held them for a second. I looked over his shoulder at Hannah.

  “Thank you, Hannah,” I said. “Please tell Bill I won’t be long.”

  She closed the door and once she was gone, Jake grinned. “Thought she’d never leave,” he said. He paused, staring at me. “You look incredible, Nikki.”

  “Thank you,” I said curtly, impressed by my own sterling composure. “It’s good of you to come and offer to make us one of your feature stories.”

  He cocked his head to one side, as though I’d just said something very strange he didn’t understand. “Well, how could I not?” he asked. “I mean, you’ve single-handedly changed the game in this area, and I can’t believe you haven’t featured in Woke long before now. I need to have words with my boss.”

  I raised one eyebrow. “Well, it’s not like we haven’t had better offers from other magazines,” I said, stretching the truth just a little, “but it seems that my own boss wanted to use a magazine with the best coverage.”

  “And the best photographer, right?”

  He winked at me, and I wanted to melt. But still, I stood firm and only managed a tight smile. “Well, that’s what we asked for, but I guess they all were busy, right?”

  He lifted an eyebrow at that remark and seemed to suppress a smirk. I clenched my fists. It might have been a cheap victory, but it was all I had.

  There was simply no doubt that he was the best in the business. Woke and every single other magazine in the northern hemisphere could have sent fifty photographers, and none of them would have come close to his work.

  “I wanted to see you,” he said, softly, and he began to walk toward me, but I turned around.

  “Let’s get some good shots of the models,” I said. “I’ll take them out of the glass cabinets so that you won’t have any reflection on the glass. There are more downstairs in the main conference room but these show much more development, so you’ll have the scoop on some of the extra features. The roof gardens, for example, and the incorporation of a new kind of monocrystallic solar panels.”

  “Ah, they’re the new kind, right?” he asked me, nodding. “Twenty-five percent better performance without all the ugly edges”

  Damn it!

  He knew his shit. He’d obviously been doing his research, and I couldn’t help but look impressed and, he knew it. I could tell by the way he grinned at me that he knew he had me.

  I ignored him, opened one of the cases, and slid the model out on the runners, lifting it onto the glass with the smooth-running lever. This was my design, too, newly patented and waiting for approval, but I didn’t mention that to Jake. After all, it’s not like I was searching for his approval.

  He took some shots of the models, experimenting with the lighting and checking each frame one by one.

  Ten minutes quickly became fifteen and then twenty. I knew Bill would be looking for me. “Have you got what you need?” I asked.

  “That depends,” he replied smoothly, placing the lens cap back on the camera. “Is there anything else you’d like to give me?”

  Everything, I wanted to yell at him. I would have given you everything if you’d only given me the chance!

  But, instead, I shook my head. “I think that you’ve got everything I wanted you to get,” I said. “You take great photos, so I’m sure you’ll do an amazing job of the piece.”

  “I thought I might be able to ask you a couple more questions,” he said, taking out a notebook. “After all, I wouldn’t be much of a journalist if I didn’t get some kind of interview with you.”

  “Okay,” I sighed. “Go for it.”

  He stood with his pen poised over the paper. “First question,” he said. “Why are you talking to me like we’ve never met before?”

  I had to hold my tongue before I angrily retorted with questions of my own. Questions about why he left me with nothing more than a few words on a scrap of paper. Why he thought it was perfectly acceptable to take my heart, twist it in his hands and throw it on the floor.

  But, instead, I blinked for a long second and turned to leave. “I think you’ll be able to put a piece together from what you have,” I said. “You’re good with stories.”

  He reached for my arm. “Look, you’ve got no idea what really happened, Nicole, or where I’ve been for the past three months,” he began
, but I shook him off as I felt the tears pricking my eyelids.

  “No, you’re right,” I said, making my way to the door. “And, I’ve no interest in hearing about it, either. Now, I need to get back to the other journalists.”

  I wanted him to come after me. I really did. But I quickly disappeared into the open elevator, the doors closing shut behind me and leaving him behind.

  I have no idea how I made it through the rest of the afternoon but it was while I was talking to a young, eager guy with a very tight knot in his necktie, that I thought about how I felt.

  I was choking here. I was tired of the dark mornings and even darker evenings. Tired of the snow and rain.

  The ceremony was over. The work was done, at least, from my end. I had time to take a vacation, so that’s what I decided to do. I thought about maybe going to Jamaica or Mexico, but I couldn’t help sitting at my desk with my award by my side, the mouse directing me to sites advertising breaks in Hawaii.

  You’re being stupid, Nicole.

  It was stupid, I thought. Stupid to go back. But, Kauai had plagued me, and I wanted to rid myself of the demons I carried with me. So, before I could overthink myself out of the idea, I booked myself a seven-day break.

  I left two days later with nothing on my mind but sea, sun, and sangria. There’d be another ‘S’ missing, I knew, but maybe life was safer without it, anyway.

  It had only caused me far too much trouble already.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  JAKE

  †

  SHE WAS MAD. STEAMING mad, in fact. But damn, she looked fucking gorgeous, too.

  When she held out her hand to me like we were nothing more than strangers, I wanted to grab her, pull her close to me and remind her of the time we spent together. Instead, I was treated like the proverbial redheaded stepchild.

  I loved to see her angry. I loved the fire in her eyes, the spark in her glare, the hands on her hips. But I didn’t love that the anger was directed at me. I guess she had reason to be angry, but when I tried to explain, she didn’t want to hear it. She wanted to be left alone, and as much as I wanted to stop her, I also couldn’t ruin her day. After all, it was all about her award and her hard work. So, the only thing I could do was pack up my gear and head back home.

  The piece was easy to write, given that the pictures of the models spoke for themselves. With a little extra research, I put together my first whole piece for years. I was used to sending Marshall my photos and notes and leaving it to someone else to write the articles. But, for this one, I wanted it to be all mine, and nobody else’s.

  That evening, after the article had been written and sent, I sat back in my chair, stroking my chin, staring at the screen.

  Fuck it. It wouldn’t do. I had to see her again and this time, away from the office.

  Journalists have their ways and, with a little persuading, my friend at the office managed to locate Nikki’s home address via a little internet search. I didn’t know her date of birth, but I knew Brandon’s, so we took that and went from there.

  “An hour or so later, I pulled up outside of the apartment building where I knew she lived.” I walked up to the door and pressed the number to her unit. A voice answered through the intercom. “Hello?”

  “Nikki, it’s me,” I said. “Look we need to—”

  “Nikki’s not here,” came the voice. I thought she was yanking my chain, but then she carried on. “It’s me, Mia.”

  “Mia?” I remembered her from the wedding, the one who liked to dance so much. “Why are you there?”

  “I’m feeding Pete.”

  “Pete?” Was there someone in Nikki’s life I didn’t know about?

  “The cat.”

  “Nikki has a cat called Pete?”

  Mia sighed. “Come up to the fifth floor,” she said. “My finger’s getting sore holding the button down this long.”

  She buzzed me in and, rather than waiting for the elevator, I took the stairs two at a time. Mia was at the door to Nikki’s apartment as I reached the top flight, a fat black and white cat in her arms. She glared at me as she stroked the cat. She reminded me of a villain in a 007 movie.

  “So, we finally speak,” she said. “You’re Jake.”

  I held out my arms. “That’s me,” I smiled. “I’m guessing you’ve heard about me.”

  She didn’t respond right away. “She’s not here,” she said after the pause.

  “You mentioned that,” I said, walking toward her. I leaned my shoulder against the wall of the corridor and folded my arms in front of my chest. “Where is she? I need to speak with her.”

  “She’d kill me if she knew I’ve spoken to you,” Mia said as she put the cat down on the floor before it scampered back into the apartment. “Look, between you and me, she’s only just started to get over everything that happened. It killed her when you left without any explanation. I don’t give a shit who you are; you didn’t need to do that to her.”

  I wanted to explain, but decided against it. I didn’t want to speak to Nikki’s best friend. I wanted to speak only to her. There were a few things she needed to hear. “Tell me where she is… please,” I said again.

  Mia wasn’t happy to let me know anything. “She’s on holiday,” she said.

  “Look, I’m not going to hurt her again,” I said, firmly. “She doesn’t know the full story. She doesn’t know why I had to leave, and why it’s taken me this long to come back. All I want is the chance to explain to her exactly where I was and, if she still wants me to go after that, then, so be it. I can’t do anymore. But, all I want is five minutes. Just the two of us, talking alone.”

  “Call her, maybe?” Mia suggested.

  “I don’t have her number. And, I believe I should do this face to face. I owe her that much.”

  “I can’t tell you where she is,” Mia said before she sighed and looked down, but she continued. “After all, she doesn’t want to be disturbed in paradise.”

  I looked up, my ears pricked. “Paradise?”

  “Yeah,” she nodded, looking at her nails dramatically and sighing. “You know, white sandy beaches, villas, memories of the first time…”

  With a grin on my face, I edged a little closer. “You mean she’s in Kauai?”

  “Well now, I can’t say that exactly,” Mia replied. “Let’s just say she’s still in the country, but she’s out of the country too, if you get my meaning.”

  “And is she perhaps wearing a lei around her neck and strumming a ukulele?” I asked, grinning.

  Mia looked up, staring at me with her dark eyes, a flash of bronze in the center of each. “Don’t hurt her again,” she said softly. “She’s too good for that.”

  “I don’t intend to hurt her. Never did,” I assured Nikki’s best friend. “And, thank you.”

  I was three and a half thousand miles from Nikki, but that didn’t stop me tearing back down the five flights of stairs at double the speed in which I’d taken them. I raced home, packed a few things and drove to the airport without even checking the flight times or availability.

  There was a flight to Texas leaving in an hour, and I made sure I was on it, practically flinging my credit card at the guy behind the desk. In Dallas, I waited five hours for a flight to Honolulu, and even then, they insisted it was fully booked, until, at the last second, they confirmed there was one seat available, only it was in coach.

  There was no time for me to be picky about where I sat. I loathed coach, particularly on long-haul flights, but I took the ticket anyway rather than waiting for another. When I checked my ticket, though, I groaned when I saw it was a window seat.

  Nikki had better know what I was willing to go through for her, I growled to myself as I waited in the lounge, wishing I’d brought my laptop with me.

  Finally, we boarded the flight to Honolulu, and after practically getting on my knees and begging the elderly couple sitting next to me to show some mercy, they agreed to allow me the aisle seat. My legs could stretch out a bit into t
he aisle and I breathed a sigh of relief, even if it meant getting up every thirty minutes so that the old guy could go to the bathroom.

  Each time, he’d pat my arm and say, “Happens to all of us eventually, Son,” and I’d smile back and tell him not to worry about it.

  Sleep was out of the question, and so was taking the long boat ride to Kauai. I wasn’t in the mood to see the sights, the sun setting behind the mountain, or the dolphins dancing in the ocean around the boat. I wanted to get there as quickly as possible.

  I think the French guy at the airfield must have thought I was carrying a kilo of fresh, uncut Peruvian cocaine in my bag by the way I thrusted a wad of cash at him and demanded the use of his chopper, but he obliged me. We were only in the air thirty minutes before touching down on the island.

  From there, it was a cab ride the resort. I didn’t even know in which room or villa Nikki stayed, but there was no way I was traipsing around the resort at nine-thirty when I hadn’t had a wink of sleep.

  There was a villa available, right on the beach, not too far from the one Nikki had stayed in the last time we were here, and I took it without hesitation.

  Then, I went to my room, lay on the bed and took a well-earned nap.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  NIKKI

  †

  THE OCEAN WAS WARM, but there was a storm on the horizon. I could see forks of lightning lighting up the sky and touching the water, and while it’d been a while since my high school physics class, I knew that going into the sea, when millions of volts of electricity coursed through it, wasn’t the brightest idea.

  Luckily, the pool was covered, and the swim-up bar was still open. It was a little before one in the morning, but the resort was still alive.

  It hadn’t been the same, coming back to the island. I’d made a huge mistake. For the first couple of days I hardly ventured out of the villa, but it was still good to walk along the beach and feel the sun on my face. It was nowhere near as sweltering as it had been last September, but it was nearly thirty degrees warmer than Omaha. It felt good to wear a bikini again, and not a scarf and gloves.