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His eyes are on the computer but he's not here. He's off somewhere else, stuck in his head.
"Good morning." There's no enthusiasm in his voice.
"Good morning." I focus all my attention on fixing my coffee.
But he's no more here when we get to work. I try not to let it bother me.
The two hours go slowly. When we're done, Nick nods a curt goodbye.
I have to do something to bring him back.
I stare into his eyes. "I was so sore this morning I could barely make it through my yoga."
Nothing. Not even a hint of a smile.
I keep going. "Did you—"
"Not now, Lizzy. I'm not in the mood."
"Okay. Maybe we can talk later. That theater that did The Matrix is doing the second one, The Matrix Reloaded, on Wednesday. We could go."
"I'll be busy all week."
"Oh. We could always watch the DVD at your place."
His eyes meet mine. It's like he's staring through me.
Then his eyes go back to his computer. "We'll talk later."
"Yeah, sure."
It's hard to concentrate. All morning, I keep one eye on Nick's office. I need some sign he's okay.
I leave for lunch. My spicy Chinese food is excellent comfort but it does nothing to clear my head.
I take a long walk. It's a nice day. Blue sky. Crisp spring air.
But it feels ugly. The whole world is ugly when Nick is upset.
The elevator is slow. At least I'm riding alone. I check my hair and makeup in the reflective walls. All good.
Finally, the doors ding open. I head straight for my desk, but something stops me.
Nick is at David's workstation, an angry look plastered on his face. "If you don't want to work, you shouldn't be here."
"But, sir—"
"I don't pay you to gossip. Any of you. I don't care what Gizmodo says about the sale. Until it's final, you're an Odyssey employee. Get back to work or hand in your resignation."
"Of course, Mr. Marlowe."
Nick turns to Gabriel. "You too."
Jasmine practically jumps out of her desk. "Mr. Marlowe! I need to speak with you."
He glares at her. "Not now."
"Yes, now."
He ignores Jasmine to stare down the programming team. "This goes for everyone here. If you don't want to work, I expect your resignation by the end of the day, and I expect your desk cleared by tomorrow morning."
He storms past Jasmine. Past me.
Our eyes connect. He looks away like he's embarrassed by his outburst. Then he disappears into his office.
The door slams shut.
The room drops to a hush. Nick is a force of nature, but it's not enough to scare me off.
I move towards his desk.
Jasmine grabs my wrist and pulls me aside. "Miss Wilder, that's not a good idea."
"Do you have a better one?"
"Nick is resilient. He'll be okay."
"'Okay' is relative."
Jasmine leans in to whisper. "You know what it's like with family, the smallest things become so big. When it's already something big... He needs space."
"You loved Shepard, right?"
"Of course, but—"
"Would you have left him alone like this?"
"Nick isn't Shepard. You need to let him calm down."
"No, I need to help him calm down."
"Oh." She nods like she's giving me her blessing. "Be careful. He'll blow a gasket if people start gossiping about you two, and nothing will talk him down." She looks me in the eyes. "This will get out at some point. Tech is still a sexist industry. People will be impressed by Nick's conquest. They'll call you a slut."
"I don't care. I can't let him sit there in pain all by himself." I turn, march to Nick's office, and knock on the door.
"It's Lizzy." I don't wait for a response. I turn the knob. Thankfully, it's not locked.
Nick rises from his seat on the couch. "Go back to work, Miss Wilder."
I press the door closed and turn the lock. "No."
He stares me down.
It's difficult to do anything but melt. Somehow, I hold strong. "You're upset. I want you to feel better."
"Go back to your desk."
This isn't working. I need to get more aggressive. I reach around my back, unzip my dress, and push it off my shoulders.
It falls to my feet.
Nick's eyes go wide. I'm not wearing particularly sexy lingerie today, but he stares at me like I'm in some fantastically expensive silk and lace bra and panty set.
He wants me. It's written all over his face.
But he doesn't move.
I go to unhook my bra. He grabs my arms and pulls them over my head.
"Stop it." He squeezes my wrists. "It's not the time."
"You're hurting. You can use me to feel better."
"I'm not doing that again."
"Why? I liked it. A lot. We'll both feel better." And he'll be here, mine, even if only for fifteen minutes.
"I'm not abusing our relationship like that."
"It's not abuse. I want you to do it." I stare into his eyes. "Please. I want to make you feel better. It makes me feel good."
He releases my arms. "Put your dress back on."
His look is serious. He's not going to budge, and with his history, I know better than to push him.
I slide back into my dress. "This sale is killing you."
He says nothing.
"What if I could help?"
"No."
"Hypothetically."
"The only thing keeping me sane is knowing you're okay." He shakes his head. "Promise you won't get involved."
I bite my lip. "I need you, and you're slipping away."
His eyes go to the window. "Promise."
"Tell me how to get you back and I'll promise."
"Lizzy, no." He raises his voice. "I won't forgive myself if anything happens to you. Promise."
He's practically screaming. I'm sure someone heard.
I stare into those deep brown eyes. All I see is pain. "I have to help."
"You want to help?"
"Yes."
"Then go home."
"What?"
"Go home and don't come back in for the rest of the week. Take a break. Take your sister to a spa. Take a flight to Paris. I'll pay. I don't want you to see me like this."
"But this is what people who care about each other do. They see each other when they're hurting, help each other when they're hurting."
His eyes cloud with frustration. "Do you trust me?"
"Yes."
"Then trust that I need you to leave. I need to know you're okay somewhere else." He reaches for my hand and runs his fingertips over my palm.
The simple touch sends warmth through my body. I move closer. Wrap my arms around his waist.
He brings his fingers to my chin, tilting me so we're eye to eye. "I'll take you out Saturday night. Until then, be somewhere else. Anywhere as long as you're enjoying yourself." He brushes his thumb against my lower lip. "I'll have a credit card sent to your apartment."
"I can't take your money."
"Then don't. But I want you to have the card."
There's so much need in his eyes. I nod.
He leans down to kiss me. He's here. I can feel all of his attention, all of his affection. I melt into his arms.
I need him like this.
I need him more than I realized.
He pulls back and returns to his desk. Already, he's slipping away. Warmth flees my body. I'm cold. Empty.
It's like my insides are torn out.
I want to honor his wishes. I really do.
But I can't watch Nick slip away without acting.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Between midterms and the last bits of wedding planning, Kat has no time for a spa day much less a spa week. I'm not feeling very international. I ignore Nick's credit card and use some of the cash I made in the poker tournament to take the
train to D.C.
The difference in climate means the cherry blossoms bloom a little earlier here. Most are still white but a few stray trees are a beautiful shade of pink.
I've never been one for history or civics. Touring monuments and museums makes little impression. I take the train home on Friday morning and spend the day watching my favorite sci-fi films.
Nick's impulse was right. It's much harder to survive this in my apartment with my thoughts surrounding me.
I call Sarah.
"Hey, sweet thang," she answers.
"Can we go out tonight?"
"I'm off in two hours. We'll eat, we'll dance, we'll find a nice guy to get your mind off things."
"No guy."
"Things serious with the hot boss?"
"You could say that."
"You little slut! Why didn't you tell me?"
