Nico groaned. “In a few hours.”
“I can’t believe you did this the night before—correction—the morning ofwhat could turn out to be one of the most important days of your life.”
There was more than that Charles would find it hard to believe once Nico gave him the details. If she did. She didn’t want to. Not now. And as for some details, not ever.
“I wonder if this is evidence of some kind of perverted psychology,” Charles reflected. “Do you want to fail? Or maybe you want an excuse if you do fail? Maybe you want to be able to blame it on this? Wait a minute!” Charles slapped his palm on his forehead so dramatically it was worthy of a Meryl Streep performance. “Of course! Didn’t I tell you?”
Didn’t you tell me?thought Nico.Did I miss something? You haven’t told me anything yet.
“Imposter syndrome! That’s it!”’ Charles cried.
Nico glanced over at the crumpled, faded photo of a woman sitting in a frame that sat on her bedside table. Even flattening it behind a plate of glass hadn’t removed the creases and wrinkles from her having carried that photo in her pocket and fondled it with sweaty palms every day for years. She should be grateful for every crease and wrinkle. Had she not carried it in her pocket every day, she wouldn’t have had it with her onthatday. And then she wouldn’t have it at all.
Her eyes shifted to the frame next to it—a photo of her grandfather working on a Porsche at his shop. Originally, the photo had belonged to one of her grandfather’s loyal customers and later on one of Nico’s Formula 3 sponsors, who’d been kind enough to give the photo to her. The man had displayed the photo because the Porsche had been a sentimental favorite of his. But Nico was drawn to it because her grandfather was in it and she didn’t have even one photo of him.
She couldn’t even see his face in it.
Nico had been raised by her grandfather after her mother died when she was two years old. She’d never known her biological father. He’d disappeared as soon as her mother had become pregnant.
If only she’d carried a photo of her grandfather in her pocket. But why would she when she saw him every day? She couldn’t have knownthatday was the last day she would ever see him.
She looked away and was met with Charles’s pensive stare.
She knew Charles was right, of course. She shouldn’t have gone to that dive bar last night, shouldn’t have played pool, definitely shouldn’t have played pool with one Rocco Vittori, and most definitely shouldn’t have celebrated taking that arrogant prick down a peg if even only for a second at another bar with a bottle of champagne.
Or was it two?
She kept telling herself the champagne was to celebrate. But truth was, she’d needed it after that kiss. The bubbly was supposed to wash his warm, wet tongue and what it did to her from her memory. But it hadn’t worked. Her body still hummed when she thought about it.
Stop!
All she needed was a shower and some coffee. And the rest of that green swamp from hell. She braced herself and finished the ghastly concoction.
Charles folded his arms. “I’m waiting.”
“Can I tell you later? I really don’t feel up to it.”
“All the more reason to tell me now. With your synapses focused on that and away from your head and your gut, you’ll feel better more quickly. It has something to do with blood flow.”
“How do you know that?”
Charles waved his hand. “I read it somewhere. Can’t remember where.”
Charles was always full of advice, supposedly based on scientific fact and extensive research. Problem was he could never remember where he’d accessed either the facts or the research.
Suddenly Templeton, Nico’s pet rat, popped his head out from Charles’s pajama pocket.
“See,” Charles said, “Temple wants to hear too. We’re all eyes and ears. Go. And no skimping. We want the unabridged, uncensored version.”
Charles settled himself on the edge of Nico’s bed.
She sighed. Might as well get it over with. Charles would eventually get it out of her anyway. At least his charmed potion was beginning to work. She was starting to feel better already.
“That,” she said, pointing at the money, “I got winning at pool.”
“I figured as much. It was either that or poker.”
“I went to a bar, thinking I would just have a drink.”
