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That’s pretty much the extent of what Sloane knows of Nico’s business. She thinks he owns a dance club in lower Manhattan. Hell, I didn’t even have the full story before the other night, and it was more of an epic novel compared to what I’d conjured up in my head.
“He’s working through it. Things have been a little better.” And a little worse. It seems to depend on the hour these days.
“That’s good. I’d hate for you guys to have problems right after you give up your life in Miami to be with him up here.”
“Jesus, it was only college.”
“Oh, don’t get me wrong. I’m thrilled to pieces that you’re home. But you wanted to put distance between your life here and your new college life. I get it. I know how overbearing my parents can be, and I would have been out of here in a hot second if I was…” She coughs and clears her throat. “I mean, it doesn’t really matter. We all make decisions for ourselves. Some good, some not so good. You know how it is.” She rushes to finish her sentence and bright sunlight blinds me as the Honda flies out of the tunnel and lands in New Jersey.
I turn a curious gaze on my friend. She obviously said too much for her own liking and tried to pull it back. “If you were?”
Sloane drags a hand through her long dark hair and taps the steering wheel. “Um, if I was, you know, interested in other nursing schools.”
I nod. “Right. Or maybe if you weren’t hung up on something that happened in the past?”
The car screeches to a halt at a red light, and I grip the oh shit bar to keep me from kissing the windshield.
“Sorry,” Sloane mumbles.
“I guess I struck a nerve.”
“I guess your professor is going to whack it later while he pictures his head inside of yours.”
“Ha ha. You’re a real comedian.”
“It’s my fallback in case this nursing thing doesn’t work out.”
“It’s always good to have a Plan B.”
She smiles, but it’s a sad one, not a happy one. “Yeah, but sometimes Plan A is the only one that really fits, you know?”
“I do.” Hence, my current predicament.
Twenty minutes later, she’s pulling down my street. I need to grab some things to bring over to Nico’s later, and figure out what excuse I’m going to use to get out from my father’s watchful eye.
The car pulls up to the curb. “Your palace, madam.”
I roll my eyes and gather my things together. “Come inside. I want to show you a dress I just bought. I think I need to find a reason to wear it pretty damn soon. Maybe you can help me come up with a reason.”
She turns off the engine and hops out of the car. I don’t say anything about the fact that Max’s car is nestled in the back of the house, and she clearly missed it, too, otherwise I’m pretty sure she would have told me to text her a picture of the imaginary dress that I didn’t actually just buy.
She wants him. He wants her. They need each other. And now that Max is getting into more ‘respectable’ business dealings with the club and the real estate businesses, and not beating the shit out of goons on a daily basis, maybe things can work between them.
Unless her overbearing father puts a bullet in Max’s head first.
I stick my key into the lock and grasp the brass handle, pushing open the door. Both of us coming to a standstill at the loud voices assaulting our ears.
“What are you going to do now, Max? You’ve got nothing! How the hell am I supposed to help you when you keep fucking yourself?”
“I was doing just fine on my own, Dad! I don’t need your goddamn help! Every time you say you’re gonna help me, I end up getting fucked in the end. Don’t drag me into your big plans anymore, okay?”
“You say that now, but tell me, where are you gonna be in six months? Back to fucking square one! You had a good thing going, but you had to fuck it up as usual!”
“I know what I’m doing.”
“Just like you did when you ratted out Rocco? Look how well that turned out for you. In fact, it looks like your little buddy made out better than you did in the deal.”
Oh, crap.
