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Angry.
"Was I unclear last week?" Nick stares down David. "Don't come to me or to Ms. Lee with questions about gossip."
"Mr. Marlowe, I'm only asking about official word from the company."
Once again, Jasmine rushes into the fray. "Nick, maybe we should set a meeting for this afternoon. People have questions."
"Yes, I have a lot of questions as well." He stares at her like he's asking for an explanation.
"I didn't have anything to do with this," she says.
Poor David blinks with confusion. The guy has no clue what is going on.
He returns to his desk and whispers something to another programmer. Nick watches them with a glare. He and Jasmine whisper something.
Then he looks straight at me. It's obvious I'm watching. Everyone in the office is watching.
But he says nothing. Heads back to his office and slams the door so hard the wall shakes.
He has his company.
He shouldn't be angry.
Maybe he needs time for it to sink in.
That must be it.
Habits are hard to break. Thursday, I arrive at Odyssey at eight.
Once again, the floor is empty except for the light in Nick's office. The door is open a sliver. I'm here. He's here. Let's get this over with.
With a deep breath, I knock on his door.
"Is that you?" He asks. The soft tone of his voice makes it clear that he means me.
"Yeah. Can I come in?"
"Of course."
I push the door open and step inside the office. Nerves flutter in my stomach. I swallow hard to shove them down.
His eyes aren't quite as tired. His posture isn't quite as slumped. He's not ecstatic, but then who is at 8 AM?
Nick points to a cup of coffee on his desk. There's a bag next to it. A bagel.
"In case you skipped breakfast." His voice is flat, impossible to read.
"Nick, I—"
"You'll be working with David starting today."
"You yelled at him yesterday."
"I shouldn't have lost my temper like that. It was out of line." He taps his fingers against the desk. His expression stays irritated. "He's in charge of voice recognition. Not the most interesting work but useful to know. He can't come in early or stay late. You'll have a stable nine to five schedule."
I nod.
"He's a good programmer. You'll learn a lot."
"Sure." I grab the coffee and the bagel and take a step backwards. So I won't be tempted to touch him. "Thanks for the breakfast."
He nods. "I'll miss our mornings together."
"Me too." I bite my tongue. The pain calls my attention. No touching Nick. No telling him I care about him. Nothing that will make this more difficult than it has to be. "I'm really glad you didn't have to sell. I know how much this company means to you."
His eyes turn to the floor. Regret flares in his expression. "Thank you."
Every ounce of me wants to run into his arms. I turn and rush back to my desk. I can't give in to that temptation. Nick is already doing better. By the end of the week, he'll be back to his old, ruthless self.
He'll be happy.
I can't ruin that.
David is a good programmer, but he's new to being a mentor. He's patient with my endless questions. I'm patient with his slow responses. He unloads a lot of grunt work on me. At least it's a distraction.
Friday morning, I make a point of doing an extra-long yoga session so there's no way I'll get to the office before nine.
Sure enough, there's coffee and breakfast on my desk. I try to resist Nick's offering. I try not to wonder what it means. I fail on both accounts.
I take lunch at my desk. I drink half a dozen cans of diet. I work until I'm too tired to think, then I work some more. It's dark when I finally break. After seven.
The office is empty, but I don't care. I'm still thinking. That means I need to work more. I take a break to use the bathroom and get a snack.
When I return to the main room, all the lights are off. Even the one in Nick's office.
Huh? I didn't see him leave. Hell, he never leaves this early. I try to forget about it on the way back to my desk.
But he's there, leaning over the computer, tapping something into the keyboard.
I move next to him, but there's no way I can get into my chair. Not with him in that position. He'll be leaning over me, his hands on my shoulders, his breath on my neck.
The thought is enough to light a fire in my body. All that coldness melts away.
I want him.
I want him enough to scream.
I sink my teeth into my apple, chewing as loudly and unattractively as possible.
Nick points to a line of code. "You missed a semicolon."
"Is that it?"
He nods. He shifts so he's standing and we're face to face. His eyes scan by body, half desire, half concern.
I gnaw at my apple until it's a tiny core then I wrap it in a napkin and drop it on my desk.
"How's working with David?" His voice is even.
"He's not as good as you, but I'm learning."
A minute passes. Two even.
There are so many things I want to say to Nick and all of them are impossible.
His eyes bore into me. "Why is it you look even more miserable than I feel?"
I press my hands into my sides. "That's in your head. I'm fine."
Concern spreads over his expression. "You're a terrible liar."
I swallow hard. "You seem happier. You're in control again—"
"If I was in control, I'd have you."
My legs threaten to give out. I press my hand against my desk for much needed support. "You have Odyssey and Haley. You must be glad Shepard backed off."
He stares at me. "Do you want to tell me what you had to do with that?"
"Nothing. His greed got the best of him."
"Lizzy, please don't lie. It infuriates me."
"I'm sorry, Mr. Marlowe, but I'm afraid that's all I can say. It was the best decision for everyone—"
"Don't do that—"
"Do what?"
"Pretend like you never mattered to me." He shakes his head. "What did you d
o, baby? What did you do to make this happen?"
"Don't call me baby. We broke up." And it makes it impossible to keep up my poker face.
I bite my lip, praying he'll buy that I'm okay. That he'll walk back to his office and bury himself in the work he loves more than anything.
No such luck. He stands firm, his posture strong, his expression demanding.
Order me to tell the truth. Order me onto my knees. I don't fucking care, just make me feel something else.
I stare at the lines of code. Anything to keep from verbalizing my thoughts.
"What would you like?" he asks.
"What are you talking about?"
"Sweetheart? Sweetie? Darling? Honey? Sweet pea? Just Lizzy?"
"It's Ms. Wilder." I play with the pocket flap of my blazer. Stupid fucking thing is fake. "Isn't that what we do in this office? Everyone is on a last-name basis."
"Yes."
"And aren't you all about the rules and keeping your personal life and professional life separate?"
"Did you fuck him?"
"How could you ask that?" I turn to Nick. There's no malice in his expression. Just hurt. "I would never do that to you. I—" I bite my lip until the pain is too much to take. "Never."
He moves closer. Until he's six inches away. "I still trust you, Lizzy, but you shouldn't have done this. Whatever it was."
I can't move. I want to be near him more than I've ever wanted anything. "You have your company. That's what matters to you."
"You're what matters to me."
I shake my head.
Nick leans closer. Until he's two inches away. His hands go to my hips. One moves to my lower back. The other moves to the back of my head.
He undoes my bun so my hair spills over my shoulders.
His hands feel good. I press my eyes closed, unable to do anything but soak in the sensation.
He digs his hand into my hair. "You're still reacting to me." He drags his hand down my neck until I groan. "You want this."
I look up into his eyes. It takes my breath away. "You're hot. I can't help it."
"I'm going to kiss you." He brings his hand to the back of my head and uses it to pull me closer. "You remember how to say no to me?"
"I remember." But I can't do it. No way in hell.
My eyes flutter closed as Nick leans closer. The connection of our lips sends a spark through every inch of my body.
