I fell against Mom’s shoulder, fighting within myself. What she said rang true, but I didn’t want to believe it. I wanted to hate Nick.
“He lied to me,” I said out loud.
“Did he really? Sounds more like he was stuck between a rock and a hard place.”
“Mom,” I was getting irritated now. Why was she refusing to see my point? “He used me for information and wrote a screenplay based on me.”
“Have you read this screenplay?”
“Well . . . no.”
“Then how do you know you have anything to be upset over?”
“Well—”
“That’s what I thought.” She kissed my head. “If you ask me, I think it’s a pretty romantic gesture.”
She talked to crystals. What did she know?
Chapter Forty-Two
On both my parents’ advice, I decided not to hang up my boots quite yet at Binary Search. They reminded me that knee jerk emotional reactions rarely ended well. It was a good thing I spent eight years in school learning that just to have my parents point it out again.
The next two weeks, I kept mostly to myself at work. I only engaged if I had to, or with Zander asking about Meg. She was having some good days now. Zander’s mood reflected that; he was more his upbeat self in the meetings I had to attend. Thankfully, it was only assignment meetings. No more connection meetings for me.
But the office gossip was that Nick was coming into town for the weekend, so he was getting a new match. Eva and Cara were unbearable talking about how Cara had three women lined up who all matched him seventy to eighty percent. I refrained from taking the bait. They could match him one hundred percent and it wouldn’t have mattered.
Skye and I were texting frequently. We never talked about her dad. It was for the best. Nick hadn’t tried to contact me again, and I was too confused to contact him. And I figured since he was coming into town and I didn’t know about it, that seemed pretty final to me. That hurt more than I wanted to admit.
That’s why, when I came in Friday, I was more than surprised to see a white box on my desk tied with a red ribbon around it. There was no note or card. It wasn’t my birthday and I couldn’t think of anyone in the office who would buy me a gift, especially given the atmosphere during the last couple of weeks.
I shimmied the ribbon off the box and took off the lid. I gasped and ran to shut my door. I didn’t need to ask who the box was from. When back at my desk, I removed the perfectly bloomed red rose out first, drinking in its fragrant scent before resting it on my desk. Under it rested the clue as to whom the box came from. The scarf Nick and I made together at Zabrina’s lay there as beautiful as it was almost two weeks ago when I’d left it in a lump on Nick’s counter.
I pulled it out and draped it across my shoulders. Wafts of amber and vanilla tickled my nose. Had Nick worn this? I laughed to myself. It sure smelled like he had. I soaked it in. I’d missed that smell. I’d missed him. And I wasn’t sure if I was an idiot for missing him or not.
Under the scarf was a sealed white envelope with my name carefully scripted in Nick’s handwriting sitting on top of a manila envelope. I plucked up the white envelope first and sat down in my chair. I took several breaths, eager yet afraid to open the contents. With shaky hands, I managed to open it. Inside was a linen piece of paper folded in half. I carefully unfolded the letter. I admired his penmanship before diving in. It wasn’t every day that someone wrote you a letter, especially with today’s technology. And it wasn’t every day a girl got one from Nick Wells.
Dear Kate,
I found this scarf. It belongs to you. In fact, you left several things behind that belong to you, including me.
Tears sprung up. That was quite the opener.
I know you are furious with me and you have every right to be. But perhaps you could see it from my point of view. Each time we were together, I debated over breaking my confidentiality agreement with Binary Search. I knew withholding the truth from you posed a risk, especially given your cautious nature and life experience. But I’d hoped by the time I could tell you, you’d already be convinced of my feelings for you and would share them. I thought someday we could laugh about your attempts to set me up with a “nice” woman while all along the only one I wanted was you.
In the same vein, I believe you were misinformed by my possible ex-partner about a certain screenplay that I wrote. Kate, I never saw you as broken and wouldn’t dream of using you. Were you my inspiration? Yes. I was hoping you would take it as I meant it to be, a torrid love letter.
Now I was ugly crying.
The first draft of my love letter to you is finished. I believe, professionally, it is my crowning achievement, but it means nothing to me if I lose you in the process. I’ve enclosed a copy of Narcissistic Tendencies. Read it for yourself and see what you think.
Kate, one word from you and I will destroy it. I’ve refused to sign the studio contract until you give your approval.
I’ll be waiting to hear from you.
Your number one fan,
Nick
I reread the letter several times. I was snapping, popping, and crackling everywhere. I could hardly think. All I could do was put everything back in the box and rush out of my office. I ran into Zander talking to Todd in the hall. They looked alarmed at my state, but in true male fashion, they weren’t touching it with a ten-foot pole.
“I need to go home,” was all I shouted as I ran by.
“Are you all right?” Todd called, but I could tell he didn’t really want to know.
I had no time to respond anyway. I had some serious reading to do.
Once home, I curled up on my couch wrapped in my silk scarf, and dug into Narcissistic Tendencies. I still couldn’t believe he was using that as a title.
The opening scene was of Sloane, the female protagonist, taking off a wedding ring and placing it in an envelope and throwing it in a mailbox. You don’t know who she’s sending it to. She’s distraught, but it’s an act of bravery.
Flash forward several years and the male protagonist, Detective Foster Carmichael, shows up at psychologist Dr. Sloane Alton’s office with the wedding ring. It was found at the scene of a murder. Sloane recognizes Foster from many years ago. A chance meeting at a bookstore she’d never forgotten. She helped him find a book he was looking for. He asked for her number, but she was engaged. For Foster, there was a spark of recognition, but he couldn’t place her.
I was intrigued already.
It only got more captivating as the story progressed, revealing some of the emotional damage represented by the ring—a mentally and physically abusive ex-husband and Sloane’s feelings of worthlessness. But now she had to face her past to help Foster solve a string of murders that might involve her ex-husband.
I hadn’t gotten very far when there was a knock on my door. I was irritated at the interruption but curious as to who would show up at my house in the middle of a Friday morning. Probably a solicitor. But I got up and checked anyway.
My day was full of surprises. Kenadie and Meg stood on my doorstep. How very unexpected.
I opened the door, not sure what to say other than, “Hello?”
Meg was to me in a second, throwing her arms around me. She felt lighter, like she’d lost some weight, but her hug was tight.
“What’s this?”
Meg continued to squeeze, while Kenadie gave me an uncomfortable smile. “Kate, I think I owe you an apology.”
“Why?”
Meg let go and gave me a devious smile and shook her head. “You and Nicholas Wells. I can’t believe it.”
My heart stopped while I cleared my throat. “It’s not what you think,” I stuttered, focused on my boss.
“I think it’s exactly what we all think.” Kenadie’s smile was warm and completely disarming.
“Come in.” I waved them in. Obviously, there was plenty to discuss.
“How are you, Meg?” I asked first while they took a seat on my couch.
“Today’s a good day, but never mind me. What’s going on with you?”
I looked to Kenadie.
“Do you mind if I say something first?” Kenadie asked.
“Please do.” I wanted to know what she knew before divulging anything.
“Well, between last night and this morning, I’ve had some interesting, maybe not-so-pleasant conversations with my momma and . . . Nick.”
I was all ears. I crossed my legs and sat up attentive on my cozy chair.
Kenadie bit her lip, embarrassed. “My momma was at Jack’s last night when Nick arrived. And in true Momma fashion, she grilled him about you. Zander had mentioned to her that you’d been acting off the last couple of weeks ever since your return from California. She put two-and-two together. Nick didn’t . . .” she tucked some hair behind her ear, “mince words, and expressed his displeasure with our agreement. Momma is blaming me for keeping you apart.”
“Kenadie, it’s not your fault. I broke the rules.”
“I’ve been there.” She held up her hand and flashed her wedding ring. “But Nick had a point—you can’t force a relationship on somebody, you shouldn’t. In my defense, I really thought if he tried our services, he would see how amazing it was and he might be surprised. I was trying to protect my company. I had no idea I was hurting him or you in the process. You have to believe that.”
I reached for her hand; she took it for a moment. “I do. And really, Nick is a big boy, he knew what he was signing up for.”
“True,” Meg offered, “but it must have been difficult for him to have found his match knowing he couldn’t have it.”
“Um . . .” I rubbed my lips together. “Yeah, he’s not all that hung up on those kinds of rules.”
They both laughed, but Kenadie interjected, “Believe me, I know. He asked to meet with me early this morning and we renegotiated a new agreement.”
“You did?” I asked.
Kenadie nodded. “He is no longer a client, but he will still appear in two more ads. Kate,” Kenadie took a deep breath, “I’m so sorry if I made you feel like you weren’t doing your job. You were doing exactly what you should have done as a relationship manager. Nick mentioned his questionnaire wasn’t an honest reflection of himself, but you saw past that. And I’m sorry I doubted you.”
“I’ve doubted myself more than anyone over the past couple of months. Past several years actually,” I admitted.
Both women gave me curious glances. I wondered if it was time to finally let my friends in. To have real friends again. What did I have to lose? If anything, my time with Nick had proven to me how lonely my life truly was.
“I was married briefly, or at least I thought I was, a long time ago.”
Shock registered on each of their pretty faces.
“It was annulled because he was already married.”
“No!” Meg exclaimed. “Who does that?”
“A true narcissist.”
“Not a Zander or Nick?” Meg gave me a sly grin.
“Not them.” I grinned.
“Kate,” Kenadie interjected, “I may be dense about a few things, but I can tell you this, Nick cares deeply for you. He was willing to be sued by me for breach of contract so he could be with you.”
Meg placed her hand over her heart. “That’s really sweet.”
“You want to know something else?” I decided to go all in. I hoped Nick didn’t mind. “He wrote me a screenplay. Do you want to read it with me?”
“Oh my gosh, yes,” Meg replied.
Kenadie looked touched that I had asked.
I got out some fruit and chocolate and we did it right. I handed them the sheets of paper I’d already read and passed them a new sheet whenever I was finished reading it. We were all enthralled with the story of Sloane and Foster. I recognized the references to the Xavier house and the battleship. Sloane’s ex-husband, Corey, was raised by an abusive father who was in the military. Clues to solving the murders were left at each location, like a baby rattle and an empty bottle of antidepressants.
Nick wrote creepy so good. My spine was tingling. I even jumped a few times while they were on that ship together. They kissed for the first time on the ship, after getting locked into the boiler room by the man who they assumed was the killer. Sloane was intelligent, and Foster was in awe of her. Yet she kept secrets.
Several clues led them to believe the “narcissist” killer, as they were calling him, was targeting women through matchmaking services. Each dead woman fit the same profile, and each used a matchmaking service. Eerily, each dead woman looked similar to Sloane.
We hardly made a sound as we read, it was that engrossing.
And just when I thought I had figured out who the killer really was, I was shocked and impressed at the twist. It was Foster’s ex-wife, Dalia, who had killed Sloane’s ex-husband, Corey, unbeknownst to any one of them.
Dalia had been Corey’s first wife, who he was married to when he married Sloane, though Sloane had no idea she existed. But Dalia, the first wife, was previously married to Foster. They had married young and only for a brief period of time. Dalia had suffered with psychotic episodes and NPD. She wanted her revenge on Sloane for taking both the men she thought she loved away from her. It was so well executed.
I had to take a moment to process when we were all finished. It was the best love letter I had ever read.
Meg was the first to speak. “Wow. I loved how they were healing each other through it all, emotionally and even physically. That scene at Sloane’s baby’s grave.” Meg teared up. “That is probably the sweetest thing I’ve ever read.”
It really was. It was as if Nick was giving me hope that someday there would be more than an empty womb for me. I didn’t mention that to my friends. One step at a time.
“I loved that Sloane wasn’t a damsel in distress. That they both rescued each other,” Kenadie mentioned.
“I loved that too,” I responded. I couldn’t think of anything I didn’t love about it.
“So, what are you going to do about it?” Meg asked with a knowing grin.
I knew exactly what I was going to do.
As soon as my friends left, I called Nick. He answered immediately.
“Where are you?” I asked before he could say anything.
“How impolite of you, Kate.” His dark chocolate voice came through sinfully smooth.
“I’m sorry, but I seem to have left some things behind, and I was hoping you could help me find them.”
“I’m at Jack’s on the River waiting for you.”
“I’ll be right there.”
“Hurry.”
He didn’t have to tell me twice. All I did was remove my mascara stains and touch up my makeup before I flew out the door.
The traffic was ridiculous, but it was late Friday afternoon. Didn’t they know they were getting in the way of my future?
After what seemed like an eternity, I pulled into Jack’s restaurant. The parking lot was already starting to fill up. I meant to use some decorum, but I found myself jogging in my wedges toward the entrance. I flew in like I was late for the most important appointment of my life.
Jack was there to greet me with the biggest smile. “Darlin’.” He wrapped me up in his strong arms. “It’s about time you showed your face around here again.”
“Where is he, Jack?”
“Right this way.” He took my hand and led me out to the patio.
Nick stood waiting alone, wearing my favorite outfit, faded blue jeans and a white T-shirt, surrounded by a floral shop of red roses in vases of all shapes and sizes. Dean Martin played on the surround sound.
“Have fun.” Jack gave me a little nudge forward.
Nick was to me in a second, and there I found myself wrapped in his arms, swaying to the music, feeling connected as I never had before.
Is this what moving on feels like?
At first, we didn’t speak. It felt right to only cling to one another.
Nick kissed my head
then my cheek. “I’m sorry, Kate,” Nick whispered in my ear.
I held onto him tighter. “I’m sorry for the horrible things I said to you.”
Nick leaned away and gazed into my eyes. “Kate, I would never think of trying to seduce you. When the time is right, and I take you to our bed, it will always be to make love to you.”
Ripples of heat washed over me. I pressed my lips against his.
He parted my lips, but only briefly. I barely tasted my ambrosia bliss before he pulled away. “I take it you liked the screenplay.” It wasn’t a question. He knew very well I did.
“It’s perfect. You have to sign that contract.”
“Only if you’re part of the deal.” He skimmed my lips with his own.
“Can I get a kissing clause added to it?”
“Mmm.” He groaned against my lips. “All day, every day if you want.”
I tugged on his shirt and pulled him flush against me. “Sign me up.”
“Is that a lifetime commitment, Kate?”
I sure hoped so.
Chapter Forty-Three
Five Months Later
I breathed in Rose’s baby scent while cradling her against me. It was the perfect name for her. Her petal-soft pink cheeks and beautiful, intoxicating smell had my ovaries promising they could produce one just as wonderful with the man sitting next to me holding on to her tiny little hand. Nick had come with me to drop off a baby gift while he was visiting me for Valentine’s Day weekend. Little Rose had come a few weeks early.
“You guys do good work—she’s beautiful,” I complimented the new parents sitting across from us in their mostly packed apartment, surrounded by boxes. They would soon be making their foray into suburbia and home ownership.
Zander kissed Meg’s head. “She does take after me.”
Meg smacked him with the back of her hand. It landed on his chest in a big thud.
Zander laughed and got up. He took Rose right out of my arms. I could tell he’d been itching to since we arrived and Meg had handed us the baby. He held her like a pro and gazed upon her tiny head.
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