by Anna Paige
He nodded against my temple, his stubble tangling my hair as he continued to examine the figure in my hand, lost in his own thoughts for a moment.
“I can’t even begin to thank you for this,” I told him in a broken whisper. “You’ll never know how much what you’ve done means to me, not ever. I love you so much.”
“Sweetheart, I love you too.”
Chapter Fifty-Six
Emily
Arthur eventually cleared his throat, and we both turned, instantly chuckling as we realized he was standing there with Dammit tucked under his arm like a football. “I don’t want to let him down in case he bumps one of the pedestals.”
“He jumps on people, not furniture. You can let him down.” I wiped my eyes as Ethan helped me to my feet.
Dammit came charging in and almost skidded right into one of the displays, making us all jump. Luckily, he got traction in the nick of time and saved us from certain disaster.
Arthur scoffed from the other side of the room but didn’t comment.
I scooped up my pup, who insisted on licking my cheeks, as if he was helping clear away my tears. “Arthur, thank you so much for helping with this. I can’t believe you got it all done while recovering from the flu.”
His forehead creased, and he looked to Ethan, perplexed. “Did you tell her I was ill?”
“Not me,” Ethan supplied, looking at me oddly. “Why would you think he was sick?”
“Nikolai said so when he came in the other morning. He told me Arthur was worried I’d be spending the day alone, so he came in to keep me company.” It was the most diplomatic way I could think to phrase it since I’d yet to tell Ethan about what happened.
“He called me and told me he’d decided not to have us work since everything was in place, and there was nothing left to do but sit for those last few hours.” Arthur’s expression was odd for a moment, and then his eyes widened. “You say he came here himself that day?” The way he carefully phrased it and held my eye told me he had his suspicions why Niko would do such a thing.
“He did. But he said you’d called in sick. Why would he…” I stopped talking, realizing he’d set it up so he could be alone with me rather than seizing an opportunity that just so happened to arise. “That son of a bitch.”
“What?” Ethan asked, and I could feel the heat of his gaze on my cheek.
“Nothing. It doesn’t matter now anyway. The decision was already made.”
“What decision?” This from Arthur, who looked resigned to my answer, as if he knew what I’d say before I said it.
“I’m leaving the gallery. I handed in my notice a few days ago.”
“The same day Nikolai showed up here to catch you alone?” I could hear the tension in Ethan’s voice and didn’t dare look at him. He was angry. Angry that Niko had clearly done something to make me want to quit and probably angry because I hadn’t told him right away.
“Yes. But it wasn’t as bad as you think. He didn’t cross any lines, not physically anyway. He kept his distance. It was only a few harmless words, but words can’t be taken back. Sometimes the things people say change everything. He accepted that I wasn’t interested and didn’t press me in the slightest to change my answer, but that doesn’t mean I would be comfortable being here, knowing how he feels. It would seem cruel somehow, and I’m not cruel.” I dared a glance in Ethan’s direction as I slowly leaned down and set Dammit on the floor. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, but I was trying to figure out what my next step should be, where I go from here, and I still don’t know. I wanted to tell you after the holidays, after I had a plan and some interviews lined up, so you wouldn’t worry.”
“You don’t have to answer to me, Emily. Ever. You know you can come to me about anything, at any time, and I’ll be there. I’ve got your back, whenever you’re ready.” He kissed my forehead. “I’m just glad he didn’t put his hands on you, or I would have had to fuck him up.”
Dammit let out a low woof and started toward the back, his paws barely finding enough traction on the slick floor.
“Get back here, you little turd. There’s nothing back there for you.” I chuckled as I followed after him, watching him spin out in his haste. Just as I caught up to him and leaned down to scoop him up, a pair of familiar leather loafers stepped into the doorway ahead.
Shit.
I grabbed Dammit and stepped back as I straightened, taking in Niko’s disheveled appearance.
His silk shirt was unbuttoned, revealing an expensive-looking undershirt that was spattered with some sort of dark liquid. Maybe coffee or soda…or liquor.
His hair stood up in every direction, like he’d been running his hands through it over and over, giving it an oily sheen that was easily distinguished from his usual gel.
When I met his eyes, I flinched. They were red-rimmed and sunken in a way that frightened me. If I saw him on the street, I’d cross to the other side to avoid walking past him. He had a desperate look that made those dark, shark-like eyes even more unnerving.
“Niko, what are you doing here?” I was backing up, holding Dammit tight to my chest as a low growl rumbled in his furry little chest. He didn’t like the looks of Niko any more than I did.
“Must have passed out,” he muttered, running a hand over his hair in a futile attempt to smooth it down. “I was finishing some paperwork.”
“Drunk?” I shook my head. “Everything was done; all you had to do was hand it all over to your accountant.”
“Ah, my accountant. Yes, I could have given it to my accountant.” He snorted, matching me step for step. “And I would have, if the son of a bitch hadn’t screwed me over and set me up to lose everything.”
I stopped, feeling a hand on my lower back. Ethan.
His tone was conversational, much calmer than I expected when he asked, “Bad night, Nikolai?”
Niko clapped his hands together, smiling drunkenly. “Conspicuous, how nice of you to drop by. Please, feel free to use my gallery as you wish…while it’s still mine, that is.”
“Meaning what?” I asked.
Ethan turned us sideways, and we waited for Niko to pass by, which he did without comment.
Once we were in the open main area of the gallery, Niko walked over to one of the displays and leaned down to get a better look. I felt Ethan tense at my back, but I wasn’t worried. Even drunk, Nikolai had incredible respect for art. He’d never intentionally damage a piece.
“This is exquisite.” He moved to another and nodded, his hands clasped behind his back. “Such talent.”
Arthur stood by the reception counter and looked on with an expression of dread on his face. If Niko meant what he said, if he really was going to lose the gallery, Arthur would be out of a job.
I’d intended to leave, but Arthur…this place was his life.
“You mentioned something about the gallery not being yours for long?” Ethan prodded, his hands coming to rest on my hips as he stood behind me.
“It would seem that my accountant had some…creative ideas when it came to finding tax deductions. Because that’s far from my area of expertise, I ceded to his more knowledgeable approach. Clearly, that was an error of epic proportions.”
“How bad is it?” Arthur asked, placing a hand on his head and looking as wary as I’d ever seen him.
“I’ll probably avoid jail time, barely. But this,” he said thickly, lifting his hands to indicate the room around us, “this will have to be sold off to cover back taxes and fines, along with the vast majority of my other holdings.”
He walked to the wide glass window, privacy glass that can’t be seen into from the street, and trailed his hand over the sill. “I’d hoped to make enough from the second Conspicuous exhibition to possibly hold onto this place, but that isn’t to be. An error of my own doing this time, rather than my accountants.”
“Niko—”
He cut me off, raising his hand. “I should never have said anything to you about my attraction. It was inappropriate
of me and disrespected you as a professional, to say nothing of the disrespect it showed to your relationship with Mr. Chase. I was an ass, and I don’t blame you one iota for handing in your notice. Truth be told, you should be running your own gallery, not carrying mine.” He looked to Arthur, his mouth turning up in what I suspected was his version of a fond smile. “That goes for you, as well. You—both of you—are the heart of this place. My only purpose here has been to fund things and occasionally point new talent in this direction. You do everything here, and you both deserve better than to lose this place because of my stupidity.”
“They don’t have to lose it,” Ethan said quietly, his grip on my hips tightening for a moment before he stepped around me and approached Niko.
“I don’t see a way around it, I’m afraid.”
“Sell it to me.”
“What?” I asked on a gasp.
Neither of them looked at me, but Arthur came over and gripped my arm, clearly just as shocked.
“I’m serious. Sell it to me. I’ll pay well above its value—a full thirty percent—which will help you, and Emily and Arthur will get to stay, which helps them.”
“And how does it help you, Mr. Chase?” Nikolai’s eyes cleared for a moment as he regarded Ethan.
“I get to watch the woman I love do the job she loves. And I get to help new artists by showcasing work that otherwise wouldn’t have been discovered. Everybody wins.”
Nikolai hung his head a little. “It would appear so.”
“And I can have my management look into a good tax attorney who might be able to help with your situation. Maybe get some of the fines reduced or something. It’s worth a try, right?”
“I see why you would buy the gallery for Emily, but why help me? Not three days ago I sat at the table in that break room and admitted I was jealous of you, thereby revealing my attraction to her and forcing her to make the decision to quit the job she loved.”
Ethan shrugged and blew out a breath. “Because you handled her rejection with class. You weren’t a douche about it, when so many men in your position might have been. She wasn’t interested, and you backed off.”
“And that’s why you want to help me?”
“That and the fact that I owe you. I owe you for helping me find her.” He looked at me with a soft smile, still talking to Niko. “There are no words to describe how grateful I am for that, no colors vivid enough, no melodies beautiful enough.”
Niko looked from Ethan to me, smiling all the way to his eyes. “I’m glad to have helped.”
Ethan cleared his throat and held his hand out. “Get the papers drawn up, and we can have this in the books by the first of the year.”
Nikolai shook his hand, and Ethan held on a moment longer than necessary, leaning in. “If you hadn’t backed off when you did, this would have gone in a completely different direction.”
“I suspected as much.” He offered an apologetic smile to both of us. “I’ll leave you to your celebration. I think I’ll walk a while, clear the fog from my brain before I call my real estate guy to get the paperwork started.”
“It’s Christmas Eve, leave him alone. The offer isn’t going to disappear in the next few days.”
Arthur grabbed Niko’s coat from the office and handed it over, still looking out of sorts. Clearly, there’d been too much excitement for him.
“I’ll walk out with you and give these two some time alone.”
I sat Dammit down and went over to give Arthur a hug, which surprised him, if the look on his face was any indication. “Merry Christmas, Arthur. When you come back, you’ll have a big promotion waiting for you.”
He leaned back, his eyes wide. “Really?”
“Only if you promise to embrace texting so we can communicate on the fly.”
He huffed. “I’d rather be demoted to janitor.”
“Custodian,” Ethan corrected, grinning. “And I’ll have your mop ready when you return.”
“He’s going to take some getting used to, I see.” Arthur snorted, buttoning his coat.
Niko walked over to the street entrance and disabled the locks, waiting for Arthur as he said, “Have a great holiday, you two. And thank you, both of you.”
We muttered our goodbyes, and Niko held the door wide for Arthur, cautioning him to mind the icy layer by the door.
The smell from the vendor carts across the street wafted in, filling the air with the spicy aromas of sausages and peppers. My stomach grumbled in response.
Apparently, so did Dammit’s, because he chose that moment to dart across the floor behind Arthur and scurried out the door, bumping Arthur’s legs and sending him sprawling onto the icy sidewalk.
Ethan and I hurried over to help him up as Niko slipped on those stupid loafers and tried without success to haul the old man to his feet.
With one foot braced in the doorway and one straddling the icy patch, I managed to help haul Arthur to his feet even as I heard Ethan’s startled shout.
“Dammit! No!”
Everything shifted into slow motion as I watched Dammit skitter into the street, his little paws fumbling for traction and finding none as he turned and tried to run toward Ethan’s voice.
Ethan ran after Dammit, waving his arms at the taxi that was closing in fast. “Stop! Stop!”
Dammit just kept sliding, his little legs going in all directions, and Ethan kept calling out, getting closer until he was in the street. His boots lost their grip as he leaned down to grab Dammit and his knees slammed hard onto the pavement, but he didn’t react. Instead, he scooped up the dog and turned, twisting around and literally tossing him to Niko, who was just a few paces behind.
Nikolai caught him easily, breathing a sigh of relief that reached my ears just as the taxi’s tires lost traction, and it slammed into Ethan’s back, sending him flying.
Chapter Fifty-Seven
Emily
I don’t know how long it took me to get to him or how many times I fell in the process, but by the time I reached his still form, my palms were bloody and the knees of my leggings were torn open with bleeding scrapes peeking through the shredded fabric.
“Don’t move him.” Arthur called from somewhere behind me. “I’ve got 911 on the phone.”
I sat there by his side, looking at the gash near his temple where his head hit the pavement and praying his eyes would open. I needed to see them, those piercing blue pools. I needed him to look at me, so I could tell him how much I loved him, so I could beg him to stay with me.
He was so still.
“Is he breathing?”
A man I didn’t recognize leaned down and placed his ear over Ethan’s chest. “Yes, but it’s ragged.”
“You an EMT?” I asked hopefully as the guy lifted Ethan’s eyelids and studied his eyes.
“Used to be. Volunteer rescue squad.” His accent was thick, southern, like mine before I moved here.
“Please help him,” I begged, barely resisting the urge to rest my head on Ethan’s chest just so I could hear those ragged breaths.
“He’s breathing, and his pupil response is good. I can’t do anything else without risking further injury. He needs to be collared and put on a backboard.”
“Collared?” I ran my hands over his hair as gently as I possibly could and found that I was shaking too badly to continue. I clasped them in my lap instead, fighting the urge to scream.
“Neck collar. Stabilizes the cervical spine. The backboard will support the thoracic and lumbar spine.”
“He was on his knees when the car hit him…hit his back…does that mean he’ll be paralyzed?” I was getting hysterical. I knew this guy couldn’t answer that question, but once the idea hit me it was all I could think about.
Dear God, please no.
That could mean no more drums.
No more painting.
The things he loved…gone.
The edges of my vision started to go dark so I sat back on my heels and took a few deep breaths, refusing to faint like
a ninny when Ethan needed me most.
I don’t know how long I sat there, fighting the darkness, staring at the streak of blood that ran from under the stranger’s hands as he held Ethan’s head wound. I was numb, but at the same time every cell of my body screamed out in pain at the thought of losing him.
It was all going to be perfect. We were planning for the future, making both our dreams come true, and now…
Someone nudged my arm.
“Emily, you need to move aside, okay? The paramedics are here.”
I backed up enough to let them through, and Arthur placed an arm around my shoulders. “I’m going to take care of everything, okay? I’ll take Dammit home with me after I crate your sculptures. You go with Ethan, but please keep me updated. Call or text, I don’t care, but let me know. Okay?”
I could only nod and cry as I watched them put a collar around Ethan’s neck and lift him onto a backboard. Once they had him strapped down, they lifted it and one of the EMTs looked to me as they set him on a gurney. “You next of kin, Miss?”
Arthur gave me a nudge and handed me my coat and purse, which I surely would have forgotten. “I’m his family, yes,” I muttered as I followed behind them to the waiting ambulance.
I texted Aubrey and Dana on the way to the hospital then turned off my phone. I couldn’t deal with the questions yet, because I didn’t know.
I didn’t know how bad it was.
I didn’t know if he’d ever play or paint again.
I didn’t even know if he’d make it through.
I just didn’t know.
The EMT’s gave me his clothes after we arrived, having cut them off of him to gain access to his broken body. There were horrible, huge black bruises already creeping around his sides, so I could only imagine what his back must look like.
They used words like stable and unresponsive, which confused me and only made me more afraid.
Once we arrived at the hospital, they plowed through the doors ahead of me, not looking back or giving me any indication what to expect. The nurse at the desk handed me a clipboard and asked if he had any known allergies. I told her I didn’t know. She asked about his insurance, I told her I didn’t know.
