“What does that mean?” Tim’s voice cut through the din of the bar straight into her heart. “What are you compromising? My father’s been picking up your slack while you go shopping for dresses and get your goddamn ear pierced like a teenager. What are you compromising?”
The bartender came over. “Is everything okay over here?” he asked.
“We’re fine,” Tim shot back.
But the bartender didn’t move until Nina echoed his words. “We’re fine,” she said. “It’s okay.”
He nodded and headed to the other end of the bar, but Nina could feel his eyes still on them.
“So what are you compromising?” Tim said, not as loud this time, but just as intense.
“I’m compromising the idea of being with someone who wouldn’t criticize me for that,” she said, matching his intensity. “My father just died. The last family member I had. I’m sorry if your dad has to run the business he’s getting paid to run, while I grieve my father. I’m sorry if you don’t like—what is it you don’t like, new dresses? Earrings? Pimentos and pomegranate seeds?”
“It’s not that,” Tim said.
“Then what?” Nina said. “What is it?”
Tim rubbed his face with his hand. “You know how you feel like you didn’t know your father? How you’re all off balance now because the man you thought he was wasn’t the man he actually was inside? That’s how I feel about you.” His voice broke. He was crying. “I thought I knew you. And it turns out I don’t. And it kills me that you never trusted me enough, or loved me enough, or whatever it was, to share yourself with me until now.”
Nina felt tears overflowing her eyes, too. In finding her freedom, she had hurt the person she had once loved more than anything. “But I didn’t know who I could be,” she said. “It wasn’t that I didn’t trust you. I just didn’t really know me. Not until now. And now that I’m starting to . . .”
“Now that you’re starting to, you don’t love me anymore.”
“No!” Nina said, reaching out and grabbing his hand. “That’s not true. I do love you. But I’m just not sure if I’m in love with you. Or, honestly, if you’re in love with me.”
Tim didn’t say anything. His hand was limp in hers.
“Maybe,” she ventured. “Maybe we can go back to being friends for a while? Until we figure things out?”
Tim pulled his hand away and wrapped it around his now-empty glass of vodka. He wasn’t looking at her. He was staring at the glass.
“What if I don’t want to?” Tim said, so quietly that she could barely hear him. “Nina, I’ve known ever since college that I wanted to be with you. Us together was always my plan. But I wasn’t ready then. I didn’t want to start something unless I knew it could end in forever. It’s rare to get more than one chance to make a relationship work. And we were both focused on our own paths. We weren’t in the right place. And so I waited and dated other people, and I watched you date other people, always wondering if something would work, if we’d miss our chance—”
“I think we might have,” Nina said softly.
“Maybe we can still make it work,” Tim said, leaning toward Nina. “I’ll try harder. And maybe you can try harder. And we can figure it all out. We can live the life our parents always dreamed for us.”
Nina shook her head sadly. He wasn’t even listening. “I don’t think it’ll make a difference.” She was slipping the necklace over her head. “No matter how hard we try, I don’t think it’ll work. You’re right. I’m not who you thought I was. I’m not who I thought I was. And I want to live my own life, not one that was dreamed for me by someone else.”
“Nina,” Tim said. He looked heartbroken. She felt heartbroken, too. But for the first time in a month, the low-level panic, one she couldn’t put a name to, subsided. This felt right. “We’re partners. We’re a team. We always have been.”
“Maybe we were, but . . . I’m sorry.” Nina held the ring in her hand, the beautiful ring he’d picked out just for her, with sapphires the color of her eyes. “You’re someone I love and care about and want to spend time with until we’re as old and gray as we’ll ever get. You’ve been in my life forever and I always want you there. But—”
“Then why can’t we fix this?” Tim still looked broken.
“I don’t think I can agree to marry anyone right now,” Nina said. The ring had slipped between her fingers and was dangling from her hand, swaying slightly on its chain. “At least not until I figure out who I am.”
“Is this because you found out your parents’ marriage wasn’t as wonderful as you thought it was?”
“No,” Nina said. “This is about us, about me. Not about them.”
“Is it?” he asked, quietly.
Nina thought about it. It wasn’t, but also it was. This conversation was the culmination of everything that had happened over the past month—or maybe even longer. “It’s both,” she said.
He took a deep breath. “You’re still holding that fund-raiser on Tuesday, right?” he asked.
Nina nodded.
“Let’s decide after that. And there’s no need to rush a decision about whether we should work together or not. I really believe, with all my heart, that we’re meant to be a team. In everything. I’m not ready to give up on us. Let’s try. For a few days. Let’s really try. And then we can see.”
And because she loved him. Because he was her oldest friend, Nina said yes. And she called Rafael to say she wasn’t going to be able to make it that night after all.
59
Nina and Tim spent the whole weekend together—a visit to MoMA, dinner at the Modern, a ride on the Carousel—but even though it would’ve looked to anyone on the outside like they were having a great time, Nina felt awkward, like everything was strained, like one wrong word would deflate the whole weekend. The only way she made it through was by concentrating on the fund-raiser. In her spare moments, she worked with Christian, with Caro, with Jane, making sure that everything was perfect. On Monday, she spent an hour with the bartender at Los Tortolitos creating a specialty cocktail. And she promised TJ that after the fund-raiser, she’d be there full time, ready to take over the company.
She also called her father’s lawyer and left a message with his secretary, asking if he wouldn’t mind looking up whether Manxome Consulting was still an active corporation.
* * *
• • •
And then Tuesday night came. They had 250 RSVPs, and Christian was glowing when he showed up at the hotel. Nina had arrived early, too, and Caro kept shooing her out of the way. “You’re hosting this,” she said, “not staffing it,” when she found Nina rearranging the leaves in one of the centerpieces.
Mia walked in with a couple of other people who worked advance for the campaign, and Nina stopped to say hello.
“That’s a beautiful dress,” Mia said.
Nina had put on a Badgley Mischka maxidress with an elegant floral design that looked as if it had been hand-painted on the fabric. It was one of her recent Pris purchases and made Nina feel like a living, breathing piece of art.
“Thank you,” Nina said.
Soon after, Tim appeared in a perfectly tailored three-piece suit, and the two of them circulated, saying hello to friends and acquaintances and encouraging them to try the specialty cocktail and the chef’s newest hors d’oeuvres creations.
“We’re so good at this,” Tim said to her as their paths crossed in the ballroom, a glass of scotch in his hand. “And you look gorgeous.”
“Thank you,” Nina said with a smile. Maybe this was what Tim wanted her to see. What their life could be like, would be like. As she was greeting people, though, Nina had the same feeling she did at the Saturday brunches—like she was playing a role, the part of the heiress. Though she was no longer the heiress, she realized, she was the chair of the Gregory Corporation. The realization bowled her over
, and she knew she had to leave the room or she’d start to cry. She went to take a breather in the green room they’d set up down the hall.
But when she walked in, Rafael was there, practicing his speech in the mirror.
“Oh!” she said. “I’m so sorry.” It was the first time they’d seen each other since their conversation on the bench last week, and her heart raced. Cortisol and adrenaline.
He looked over at her and smiled. “No need to apologize,” he said.
She wondered if his heartbeat was speeding up, too. The vibrations of his voice echoed deep inside her, as if it were set at the same frequency as her muscles and bones. God, she needed to leave this room, too. Nowhere was safe.
“Is it time for me to go on yet?” he asked.
Nina shook her head. She couldn’t take her eyes off him. Clearing her throat, she said, “About another fifteen minutes. And—I’m sorry again I wasn’t able to come by on Thursday. But it’s probably for the best.”
“Probably,” he echoed. His eyes traced her bare neck and shoulders, before catching her gaze.
All she wanted to do was touch him. “I should head back,” she told him. “But I’ll see you in there. There’s a decent crowd.”
Rafael nodded. “Thank you again,” he said. “For doing this.”
“Of course,” she answered softly.
As Nina walked back toward the ballroom, she ran into Caro in the hallway. “The campaign staff has been looking for you,” she said. “Is everything okay?”
Nina felt heat rise to her cheeks and put her hands on her face. “I was just talking to Rafael,” she said. “Giving him a fifteen-minute warning.”
“Darling,” Caro said, her eyes on Nina’s cheeks, clearly noticing her blush, “be careful. You know, I have a Twitter account, too.”
Nina’s blush deepened. “I should go find Jane,” she said.
60
After speeches were given—both Nina’s and Rafael’s—and dessert had been served, Nina took a moment to sit down with Pris and Hayley.
“We’re really the grown-ups now,” Hayley was musing as she rolled the stem of her wineglass between her fingers.
“What do you mean?” Pris asked.
“I mean we’re doing what our parents used to do. All of us. I didn’t realize until I saw you up there”—she looked at Nina—“but we’ve taken over. It’s our turn now.”
Nina looked around at the room. Hayley wasn’t wrong. Some of her father’s friends had come, but it was mostly people her age—hers and Tim’s.
“We have grown up,” Nina said, leaning back in her chair.
Pris opened her mouth to respond but then focused on something behind Nina—her eyebrows raised. Nina turned around and immediately stood. Tim and Rafael were walking out the door of the ballroom together. She followed as quickly as she could in her heels. Rafael’s bodyman was already there by the time she made it to the door frame, just out of view.
“—man to man,” Tim was saying, in the hallway. “She’s with me.”
“Pardon?” Rafael said, with a quiet intensity. Nina wanted to stop them, but she was frozen, riveted.
“I saw how you look at her,” Tim said. “I know we don’t know each other, but if you’re going to travel in these circles, other men’s women are off-limits.”
If you’re going to travel in these circles? Other men’s women? This didn’t even sound like Tim. She was embarrassed. Of him. For him.
Everyone in the corner of the ballroom closest to the door had stopped talking and was trying to see what was happening.
Nina cleared her throat. “What’s going on here?” she asked, stepping forward. Tim turned, surprised to find her standing there. She could see from his eyes, how they weren’t quite focused, that he’d had one drink too many. And likely a conversation with Eric Lancer. He’d been a bad influence on Tim since lower school. If you’re going to travel in these circles was absolutely something he would say.
“He keeps looking at you,” Tim said, gesturing to Rafael. “I told him to stop. He can’t look at you like that.”
Nina looked at Rafael. “I’m sorry,” she said.
“Why are you apologizing to him?” Tim asked. “He should be apologizing to you. And to me.”
He turned back to Rafael just as Caro appeared at Nina’s elbow. “Timothy,” she said. “Come with me. Now.”
As she led him down the hallway, Nina turned around and walked back into the ballroom. The guests were silently watching her. She plastered a smile on her face. “Well, that was quite a show!” she said. “When you tell your friends about it, please don’t forget to mention what a lovely dress I was wearing.”
A few people laughed, and then a few more, and then conversation started up again. Rafael turned to Nina. “I wasn’t expecting that tonight,” he said.
“Me neither,” Nina replied. “I really am sorry.”
“You don’t have to apologize for him,” Rafael told her. Then he leaned a little closer and whispered, “And he’s not wrong. I can’t take my eyes off you.” Nina blushed again, and Rafael smiled. “I’d still love the rest of your thoughts on my new stump speech,” he said.
“I . . . I don’t know,” Nina said.
Rafael nodded. “It’s okay. I understand. Thank you again . . . for tonight, I mean.”
After he left the ballroom, Nina did, too. She needed to find Tim. And Caro. After asking a few people on the staff, she located them both in the bridal suite, where Tim was sitting silently with a cup of coffee in front of him.
“He won’t talk to me,” Caro said when Nina walked in. “I don’t know what’s going on with him, or you, or you and Rafael, but whatever it is, Nina, this isn’t acceptable. This is not how we do things around here. Not in this family.”
Nina felt tears spring to her eyes. Now that she didn’t have to pretend anymore, the weight of the whole night, the whole weekend, the whole last month, crushed down on her. “I know,” she whispered.
“Can I leave you to figure this out?” Caro sighed.
Nina nodded, and the two women embraced. “I love you both,” Caro said.
“I love you, too,” Nina answered.
Tim didn’t respond, and Caro walked out the door.
Nina looked at Tim.
Tim looked at Nina.
“What the hell were you doing?” Nina said, on the verge of losing her temper, her fists clenched, her voice shaking. Her first fund-raiser without her father. Her fund-raiser for Rafael. “Did you really think that was going to make things better? Seriously, Tim. You screwed up the whole night.”
Nina braced herself for a fight, but Tim’s face crumpled. He started to cry drunken tears, wiping his nose with the back of his hand. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m so sorry. I fucked up. I’m sorry.”
And as angry as she was, Nina’s heart broke for him. For the pain she knew he must be in to act the way he had. She walked to him and opened her arms. He fell against her and then she cried, too, for all she would lose when their relationship ended. Because she knew now it had to.
61
The next morning, after Tim had taken some Advil and a shower and drunk a cup and a half of coffee, Nina walked into her kitchen and sat down next to him. She’d contemplated asking him to sleep at his place last night, but she had been worried about him. He needed someone. He needed her. So they slept in the same bed one last time.
But now the night was over. And everything was clearer in the harsh light of day. She opened her hand and the engagement ring he’d given her was inside. He looked up at her.
“I really am sorry about last night,” he said. His voice was ragged.
“It’s not just last night,” Nina said. “I wanted us to work. I really did. But we don’t anymore.”
Nina knew she was losing the children she’d imagined having with him. She
was losing the life she’d expected. And she was probably losing Caro, too. Be careful, Caro had said last night.
Tim took the ring from Nina’s hand.
“I don’t have the energy for this now, Nina.”
She looked at him. His eyes were tired, his face pale.
“I don’t have the energy to keep pretending,” she said. “I can’t be your fiancée anymore.”
He took a deep breath in, like he’d been slapped, and then slid the ring on the tip of his pinky. It stopped at his first knuckle.
“If you can’t be my fiancée,” he said. “Then . . . I can’t . . . I don’t want to be the friend watching from the sidelines, Nina. I think it would kill me to see you with someone else.”
Nina ran her fingers along the rim of her coffee mug. She couldn’t look at him.
“If we say good-bye now,” Tim continued, “you shouldn’t call me for a while. If I’m not your fiancé, I can’t be your friend. Not for a long time.”
Nina couldn’t imagine her life without Tim in it. She wanted to argue. She wanted to explain why that was ridiculous. Spiteful even. That they were better as friends. And that he’d miss her, too. But she loved him, she truly did. And if she couldn’t give him the first thing he wanted, at least she could give him the second. She took a deep breath and let it out. “Okay,” she said. “If that’s what you want.”
Tim seemed surprised she didn’t fight it. He almost wavered; Nina could see it in his expression. But then: “It is,” he said, reaching into his pocket and putting her apartment keys on the table. “I’d like my keys back, too.”
Nina walked across the apartment to where her bag was sitting and unhooked his keys from her key ring. “I guess this is bye for a while, then,” she said, as she handed him the keys, tears blurring her vision.
Tim stood up.
“I guess so,” he answered.
More Than Words Page 20
