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“He never said anything to me about this.”
“I told you, I just left him, so are you gonna keep asking stupid questions or are you gonna get your ass over to Wicked tomorrow night and make the deal?”
“No, shit, Frank really wants to do it?”
“Look, I don’t think it’s a good idea to turn down the boys in Chicago, but if you want me to tell Frank you ain’t interested . . .”
“No, no. I’m in.”
“Midnight, tomorrow, at Wicked.”
Nick swiped away the call just as the elevator doors opened to his floor. Priceless—how with the right bait he could manipulate even a sleazy bastard like Russo.
Nick congratulated himself on his acting ability when he really wanted to jump through the phone and strangle the asshole. Maybe he’d head to Hollywood and give his ‘pal’ Josh Turner a call.
Izzy left the suite and a little while later Cheryl slowly eased herself out of the chair. She wouldn’t admit it to Izzy, but other bruises were starting to surface where she fell against the hard marble floor.
She entered the bathroom and ran the water already anticipating the soothing warm water. Taking a bath was one of the guilty pleasures she enjoyed after a long day, and the stress of the last few days certainly warranted such a treat. A soak in this luxurious spa tub was sure to ease her tense muscles and hopefully relieve her mental anxiety as well.
Leaving Nick’s penthouse without telling him was cowardly, but she didn’t have the energy for a long drawn-out goodbye. Plus, she didn’t trust herself. One touch, one look from Nick’sdark, sensuous eyes, and all her reason flew out the window. She hated admitting her weakness, but his effect on her always overruled her good judgment.
Cheryl turned on the jacuzzi jets and a loud swishing filled the bathroom. She gazed out at the beautiful view of the Bellagio fountains willing her tense body and nerves to uncoil and relax. After a day or two, she’d get her thoughts in order and contact Nick, and they’d arrange a time for him to meet Portia.
She undid the tie of her robe and stilled at a rustling in the outer room.
“Izzy?” she called from the bathroom door and was answered with silence and the churning of the water in the tub behind her. She waited another second, then scolded herself for acting like a child. She’d securely locked the door and as she told Izzy, the elevator of the upper floors required a private key card to enter. Squelching her anxiety, she returned to the tub, and let the robe slip off her shoulders.
She twisted both faucets to full speed, poured in some of the bath salts from the heavy, ceramic decanter on the side of the tub, and swirled them around with her hand. Sinking into the warm water and letting the jets pulse away the craziness of the last forty-eight hours would revive her. Then tomorrow, no matter what, she’d face her life again.
The water rose, and the roaring jets gnawed at her nerves. She spun around, at an imagined noise, but, of course, she was alone in the spacious bathroom. She caught her reflection in the full-length mirror set into the tile and flinched. The pronounced bruising on her face and the dark circles under he eyes reflected her stress.
Again, an eerie sense she wasn’t alone made her gather the robe over her shoulders. A flash of a shadow in her peripheral vision turned her head toward the empty doorway. She turnedback toward the mirror and froze. Her reflection wasn’t the only one staring back at her.
Nick entered the penthouse, scanned the kitchen and living room and assumed Cheryl was still in bed. He swiped at his phone to check any missed messages or calls from either Jax or Mamba, then headed down the hall to the guest room. He rapped on the door twice then eased it open. The bed was made and the room was empty. He checked out the adjoining bathroom, also empty.
Nick pulled out his phone and called Cheryl as he stormed through the rest of the penthouse. Empty. It immediately went to voicemail so he swiped it away and called Izzy.
She answered on the third ring. “Hello?”
“Where’s Cheryl?”
“Nick?”
“Yeah, where’s Cheryl?” The silence on the other end made Nick grip the phone tighter. “Tell me.”
“She wants to make a clean break, she’ll contact you when she ready.”
“Where is she?”
“Nick, please, she doesn’t want to see you. She’s confused and wants time to work through everything.”
“I’m not fuckin’ around, Izzy.”
“She said she’ll contact you in a few days.”
“Are you with her now?”
“No, I went out for a few things, why?”
