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“No!” Her eyes go wide with alarm. “Are you kidding? I didn’t dare tell him. You know my husband. He’ll want to kill Joel for even thinking of touching me.”
She’s right about that, I have no doubt. Tony’s devotion to his wife is immutable. If he saw her like this, tearful and trembling, he’d put Joel in either the hospital or a body bag.
Based on the undercurrent of menace I feel radiating off Nick, I have to wonder if he’s struggling with the same impulse.
Tasha sniffles and wipes her tear-streaked face. “I’m sorry to put this on you, Ave. It’s not your problem. I just didn’t know where else to go.”
“It’s okay,” I reassure her. “You’re my best friend. Of course this is my problem too.”
She shakes her head. “What am I going to do? I can’t go back there now. I won’t. I’d rather flip burgers at a damn fast-food chain than go back and grovel for my job with Joel.”
I’m not about to let either of those things happen to her. “You’re absolutely not going back to work for Joel,” I tell her sternly. “We’ll figure this out, honey. But right now, I need to get you home. And you need to tell Tony what happened.”
She nods weakly. “Okay.”
“Come on. My purse is upstairs. Let me grab it and we can go catch the subway.”
We turn to head for the elevators. Nick stands in my way. “I’ll drive you where you need to go.”
Considering we left the apartment barely speaking to each other, I’m sure taking Tasha and me to Queens is the last thing he feels like doing. I’m not too enthused by the idea either. It hurts just to look at him now and feel the distance growing between us. I really don’t want to prolong my own torture by sitting beside him in his car, knowing he’s only helping out of obligation.
“We’ll be fine, Nick. You don’t have to—”
“I’ll drive,” he repeats, his tone as firm as his stare. “Get your things, Avery. I’ll wait for you down here.”
~ ~ ~
Nick is on his cell phone when we return to the lobby a few minutes later. While upstairs, Tasha fixed her mascara and I hastily threw my hair into a ponytail before grabbing my purse and heading back down to meet him.
We step off the elevator, and, for one brief second, I am transported to the first night I saw him in this same lobby. His stare still seems to look right through me. He still unsettles me, makes me achingly aware of myself as a woman and of him as a man.
I want to rush over to him now. I want to feel his arms wrap around me and hear him tell me in that sensual, deep voice of his that everything is okay between us. I need to know that, even though I don’t deserve those reassurances. All Nick has asked for from me is honesty, trust. Today he understands, perhaps for the first time, that I am incapable of giving him either one.
“I didn’t ask if the deal was going to be easy,” he says to the person on the end of the line, glancing up as Tasha and I approach. “Just do what you have to and make it happen, Beck.”
He tone is curt, final. I can’t help feeling sorry for whomever he’s speaking to, since I’m all but certain Nick’s impatience is spurred by his irritation with me. He slides his phone into his pants pocket.
He glances at Tasha in brief concern, then his gaze slides to me, unblinking. For the first time since we met, I don’t feel heat when Nick is looking at me. I feel chill remoteness. I feel anger, although he’s too polished a negotiator to truly let his emotions show. But I’ve come to know him too well, too intimately, for him to hide it from me.
“All set?” he asks, his tone flat, all business.
We take the elevator down to the garage where his BMW is parked, then proceed to make the drive to Queens in a strained silence.
At Tasha’s house, we’re met with confusion and concern and the predicted outrage from her husband upon hearing the reason for his wife’s early return from work. Nick and I hang back to let Tasha explain the situation to her family—her mother-in-law, who comes out with a basket of clean laundry under her arm, and Tony, who’s working on construction invoices at the kitchen table when we arrive.
Although Tasha held it together on the ride to Queens, now that she’s safe at home, her voice wavers as she relays what happened at Vendange.
>
“That motherfucker,” Tony grates out furiously. “That fucking son of a bitch!”
“It’s okay,” Tasha reassures him through her tears. “He didn’t touch me. I didn’t give him the chance. I just got out of there as fast as I could.”
He’s obviously still fuming with violent rage, but he tenderly gathers his wife into his arms and holds her close. I don’t doubt that the only thing keeping the big man from getting into his truck and racing back to the city to kick Joel’s ass is his more immediate worry for Tasha.
“Good girl. You did the right thing, babe. You forget about that asshole, all right? You’re done there and it’s over. You’re safe now.” He kisses the top of her head as Tasha buries her face in his broad chest and clings to him. “As for that cocksucker back at Vendange, he better hope I never see his face anywhere or I’m gonna fucking break it.”
Tasha looks up at him, smiling through her tears. “I love you too, babe.”
