Nico’s response comes quickly: I have so many questions. 1. You cook? 2. Are you asking me out (in) for dinner?
Did I just ask Nico out? Is that what I did? I throw my phone on the bed like it’s a snake and begin to pace around. I don’t know how I’d feel with him in my space for a prolonged period of time. Oh God. Oh God. My phone starts to ring, and I reluctantly answer it, knowing exactly who’s calling.
“Katherine?”
I forgot how deep his voice was.
“I, uh…I cook. It’s something I love to do. Make fancy dinners for myself. It’s not a date. You have all this tequila and I can make dinner. What’s the big deal? Not a date.” I know I sound nervous and I’m talking a mile a minute.
He stays quiet for a moment. Then he says, “Listen, Katherine. You’re really nice and I like talking to you. I really do—that’s not some sort of line. But I have a lot going on now. The club is just barely hanging on. Matt and I are at each other’s throats. I just…” He takes a deep breath. “I just don’t want you to get the wrong impression.”
My cheeks flame. I’m glad he’s not here in person. “I have no impression, right or wrong, Nico. You said you wanted to be friends. I could use a friend. I’m not looking for more either. Just because I don’t get out much doesn’t mean I’m dumb. I know what this is. I know who I am and I know what kind of baggage I drag around. I don’t expect anything from you—or from anyone, for that matter. You want to bring tequila, I’ll cook. You don’t, I won’t. Not complicated. No dating.” I hope I sound more confident than I feel. Right now I feel like an idiot and all I want is to hang up the phone and forget this entire embarrassing conversation. My short-lived nonrelationship with Nico has been nothing but a slew of humiliating moments.
“I just don’t want to lead you on in any way,” he tells me. “But I also like you, and I want to…” He lets out a breath. “So, about the tequila. You really going to cook, then?”
“Yeah. Whenever you want. Just let me know. Hey, I need to let you go—I’m getting a call from one of my authors,” I lie.
“Okay. I’ll text you about dinner.”
“ ’Kay. Bye.” And I hang up. I don’t cry, because it’s not like we were anything but two people who’ve just met. I mostly feel sorry for myself because I do want more. Not necessarily from him. But one day I hope to find a man who will want more with me. But I can’t do that from my apartment.
Nico
Every time I have a free moment, I research PTSD and panic attacks. Interesting how most of the symptoms are similar to those displayed by a drug addict: sweating, nausea, fainting. I almost call Julia to ask about a few things, but then I hesitate because she’ll start asking me a bunch of questions I don’t want to answer. I see that there are a lot of medications and different types of therapy used to treat PTSD, and I wonder what Katherine’s on and what she’s doing and if she is, in fact, getting better. Through the phone and texts she sounds perfectly normal. Even though I want to believe her, I’m still a little hesitant. Having been completely blindsided by Naomi has fucked up my ability to trust people, and the similarities between Katherine’s symptoms and Naomi’s are just too big to ignore.
My mind is full of all the things I read today, and I’m completely distracted at work tonight. It’s almost four in the morning, and I’m behind the bar serving drinks with Jace. I’ve long ago lost my suit jacket, taken off my tie, and unbuttoned the top button of my white shirt. Panic has been a madhouse tonight, but it’s finally dying down.
As I tend to customers and mix drinks, I’m eyeing a woman in a tight white dress, straight black hair that goes to her jaw, and high-as-fuck heels. She looks classy and beautiful. But I also notice she bought a single drink more than two hours ago and has been sidling up to single men. She hasn’t danced once and she’s clearly here alone. At the same time, I also have my eyes on a man, early twenties, in a pair of dress pants and a black shirt. His hair is slicked back and he keeps looking around. Every so often he sat at the bar with a group of guys and said something, but I couldn’t figure out what was going on because each time the guys walked away. But now the current group stand and follow him. I tap on my earpiece. “Four guys. Headed to the bathroom, west side. Keep an eye out. Shady shit, for sure. Also, white dress, black hair, walking by the green bar. Watch her.”
“Got it, boss.” Toro says into my earpiece, and I see a group of my bouncers mobilizing. They know the rules and how I feel about anything shady going on in my club.
From the corner of my eye I see Matt stalking over. He worked late yesterday, and a few hours ago he went upstairs to catch a little sleep. He slams his palms on the bar top, causing a customer nearby to jump. Luckily, the music is loud and everyone goes back to their business.
“You fired Heidi!” Matt is yelling at the top of his lungs.
“She was a horrible bartender.”
“How so?” The vein on his neck is throbbing; he must be really mad.
I finish mixing buttery nipple shots for a bachelorette party and slide them over. That shit’s disgusting, but hey—I ain’t the one drinking it.
“She went to the bathroom four times in one hour when we were slammed,” I finally respond.
“You fired her because she had to piss? What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“Jace let two customers walk out without settling their tab because he was busy on the other side of the bar—because Heidi wasn’t here! And come on, man. No one has to piss that much. You know she wasn’t in the bathroom peeing.”
“You have problems, Nick. Big serious fuckin’ problems. The chick could’ve had diarrhea, or maybe she drank too much water. Maybe she was on the rag. Coulda been anything, and you think she was in the bathroom getting fuckin’ high?”
“She’s been missing work and has been late twice this week.”
“Then you call her into the office and have a chat. You don’t fucking fire her. We’re losing all our best people.” He turns around and walks away, fuming. I don’t remember the last time I saw him so mad.
I jump over the bar and signal to Jace to take over. It’s relatively quiet now, and I know he can handle it alone.
“Relax. She wasn’t the best,” I say when I catch up to Matt in the back room.
“Why? ’Cause I hired her? You do realize everyone I hire ends up fired, right?”
“Not my fault you aren’t screening them enough.”
“I swear to God, I can’t deal with you right now.” He is livid. He turns and begins to box up the cases of tequila we don’t need.
“Wait.” I take three bottles and set them aside.
“What?” he asks, annoyed.
“I told Katherine I’d take her a few bottles.” I haven’t talked to Katherine in a week, and I feel like a complete shit about the things I said the last time we spoke. I mean, I don’t think I was harsh, but I think that she thinks that it’s her mental issues that are stopping me from wanting to date her. And, well, it is and it isn’t. It’s because I don’t know if I can handle all of that right now, but it’s also the fact I’m too busy to commit to anyone, much less someone who I think would require a lot of attention. Or deserves a lot of attention.
“You still talking to her? I’m surprised she wants to talk to you, being that you’re a total dick to everyone.”
“Fuck you.”
He closes the boxes and turns. “The next person you fire without talking to me first…we’re gonna have real problems, Nicky. This is my goddamn club too.”
He walks away with the box in one arm and slams the door with the other.
Six
Dizziness
Katherine
My appointment with Dr. Glance is set. If the appointment is set, I can’t back out, right? I’ve stooped to negotiating with myself. Luckily for me, he agreed to see me tomorrow at one in the afternoon. I set my alarm clock for seven to give me plenty of time to make it to his office. Ten minutes. That’s all I committed to, and I hope I can a
t least do that. I’m starting to get jittery. Even though I’ve made a lot of progress, I have yet to leave the building after the juice fiasco last week. At least I can go all the way downstairs, which is more than I could’ve done a month ago. Still, I need to get out of the front door in order to get in my car and go see the doctor.
—
It’s twelve forty-five the next day and I’m sitting on my bed, fully dressed, tears streaming down my face. Ten minutes ago I sent Dr. Glance an email telling him I can’t make it. Dr. Cole already called me; there’s disappointment in her voice, which just adds to the deflated feeling I have. I don’t bother to lie about the reason. Julius is eyeing me from the corner of the room by the front door. Both the door that leads to freedom and the cat seem to be taunting me. I’m reaching my limit of frustration, so I’m surprised when my phone dings with an incoming text. It’s Nico.
You never called again.
We haven’t texted since our last awkward conversation. I’m happy to hear from him, but I don’t know what to expect.
You never brought tequila.
I was a dick last week.
I smile and sniffle away the tears. Maybe a little.
Wasn’t my intention. I’m sorry.
It’s okay.
What fun things do you have planned for today? he asks.
Nothing much. Had a bad morning.
You did? What happened?
Tried to go to the doctor.
And?
And I’m sitting here on my bed instead.
Shit, Katherine. I’m sorry.
He seems to understand, or at least he understands enough that he’s not prying but still being empathetic.
Yeah. It sucks.
So you’re an editor, huh?
I love that we’re back to this getting-to-know-you text thing.
Yep. I work from home.
Of course you do.
Are you making fun of me?
I might be.
Before I have a chance to come up with a witty retort he texts me again. You want to hang out this week? I’ll finally bring the tequila.
The phone falls right out of my hands. I know I’m acting like I’m back in high school, but the newness of knowing Nico together with my inexperience has me rattled. I look at my phone, scared to touch it. Hang out? If I can’t leave my house to go to the doctor, there’s no way in hell I’ll be able to meet up with cool, sexy Nico.
The phone dings. You’re freaking out right now, aren’t you?
Hastily I pick up the phone and type, No. Then a second later I add, Okay, yes.
Would it make you less nervous to hang out at your place?
My place? I look around. I’m a very tidy person and the apartment is impeccable. I was going to make a paella from a recipe I found last week online and I have all the ingredients neatly on the counter. I’d already started some of it this morning, thinking I could finish it when I returned from my doctor’s appointment.
I don’t know, Nico.
Oh, shit. Something just came up. I have to call you back.
And just like that, my texting session ends and I’m left wondering if it’s because I didn’t agree to hang out. And yes, I’m back in high school.
—
Late in the afternoon I hear a knock at my door. No one ever visits me. Well, my sister does, but usually only after I make way too many excuses and too many months have elapsed. I’ll bribe her with some very extravagant meal, and she’ll visit me instead. But I know it’s not her. And I don’t have any deliveries scheduled. That only leaves…
I look through the peephole, and my assumption is on point—sort of. Nico is standing outside my apartment, with Matt.
I unlock all the deadbolts and chain and open the door.
“I took a chance.” Matt smiles sheepishly and walks right inside, elbowing Nico, and before I have a chance to invite them inside, Matt adds, “Smells good.”
“Hi,” I say to Nico. He’s got on worn jeans and a black T-shirt that’s too tight around the biceps. His green eyes look like emeralds against his tan skin. His hair is up and pieces of it are falling out haphazardly. His beard is just as I remembered, full and neatly trimmed. His brother doesn’t have the beard, so he looks younger than Nico.
“Hi.” He smiles back. In my eyes, the man is beautiful; the only physical flaws he seems to have are a scar over his eyebrow and a slightly crooked nose.
“And hi to you too,” Matt says, taking me out of my hypnotic stare-down of his brother but surprising me with a kiss on my cheek. It’s so sudden, I don’t really have a chance to freak out.
“Mateo!” Nico scolds his brother and pulls him away from me.
“Oh, shit. Sorry. No touching. I forgot,” Matt says, holding his hands out. “I don’t have germs, I promise. What do you need? Antibacterial cream? Rubbing alcohol? Shit. I’m so sorry,” he says in a rush, seemingly worried I might bolt right out of my own home.
“Great job at not making this weird, man,” Nico says.
“It’s okay. I’m fine,” I say, but my hands are still up and I’m feeling anything but fine. I’m hurt that Nico told his brother about my affliction, and it makes me wonder if they both feel pity for me now or if they laughed at me. I’m also confused as to why they’re here in my apartment.
“You sure?” Nico asks, looking contrite.
I nod in response. No, I’m not sure, but I’m also not feeling the need to run out of the room. So there’s that. Still, this sort of thing doesn’t usually happen to me.
Matt walks straight into my kitchen as if he’s done it a hundred times, lifts the pot lid, and sniffs. “You’re cooking.”
“Yes,” I say as I watch him touch my things. Things I’ve cleaned and recleaned a dozen times.
“Don’t be mad at my brother. Nick didn’t want to tell me,” he calls as he sticks his finger into the pot and then licks it. “Mmmm,” he says. “After you came by Panic, we hounded him until he finally told us. I can be relentless, trust me. Anyway, he told us all about you, and I have to say, you are one brave chick.”
“Brave?”
“Yeah, brave. You went to a club full of people. Then you went back a few weeks later. That’s brave. If it were me, I’d probably hole up in here and never leave.”
I cock an eyebrow. That’s exactly what I intended to do.
“Anyway, my brother’s quiet. I’m not,” Matt says.
“Obviously,” I say wryly, making the guys chuckle.
Matt smiles. “You’re a little cheeky, aren’t you? Nice.”
“So, what’s with the food? Are you expecting someone?” Nico asks.
“Nope. It was just for me.”
“Fancy,” Matt says.
“I like to cook.”
“And you didn’t invite Nicky over here? I though you guys were friends.”
I look down, unsure what to say. Then I blurt out, “You guys want to stay for dinner?”
“Nick does. Don’t you, Nicky?” Matt answers immediately, and Nico’s face contorts into anger. “If it’s not an imposition, of course,” Matt adds.
“It’s not ready. It’s going to take at least an hour more.”
“Oh, well, look at that. I don’t have an hour. But Nick here does,” Matt says, patting the back of Nico’s shoulder a little too forcefully.
“Matt,” Nico warns.
“Full disclosure, Katie. My brother has a huge stick up his ass. Huge. Don’t really know how he walks, it’s that big. Never bothered me much, except that he’s all doom and gloom these days, and it’s really starting to bring me down. We can’t have that now, can we? You can’t run a club where people are supposed to pay big bucks to be happy when you have a scowl on all the damn time. He doesn’t have many friends, and apparently—and don’t take this the wrong way—neither do you. I have an afternoon of interviews ahead of me, since brother dearest has fired almost every employee—”
“Not true,” Nico practically growls. “They quit or—”
“Uh—” I begin. Matt’s like a tornado, and even though he’s in-your-face, loud, and presumptuous, he’s also funny and sweet about it.
“This is ridiculous,” Nico interrupts, and rises from his seat.
But Matt pushes him back down with a hand on his shoulder. All of a sudden he seems serious. “Enough. That club is half mine. You made yourself king of that kingdom and I let you, but enough is enough. I’m not going to let you run it into the ground by being a paranoid dictator. Stay the fuck here.” He looks over at me and gives me an apologetic smile.
“You think you can do better? I’m looking out for you and the fucking club!” Nico stands up again, causing Matt to take a step back. They’re in each other’s face, and I’m mesmerized. These two men arguing in my house—how quickly my afternoon has changed. “You’re going to hire the first set of tits that comes through the door. Don’t come running back to me when they’re stealing or selling smack in the bathroom. Don’t call me to bail you out of fuckin’ jail.”
“Nice way to talk in front of your new friend, asshole,” Matt says. “And thanks a lot for your faith in me, man. Really appreciate it.” Matt takes his keys from the table. “Katie, sweetheart, kick him out or keep him. Don’t care. Sorry to bring trouble to your doorstep. Didn’t expect it to turn out this way.” He startles me again with a loud kiss on the cheek before storming out, slamming the door behind him.
I glance at Nico, then avert my gaze. This is really awkward. It’s not like I can pretend I didn’t hear their argument, but it really isn’t my business to ask questions. I head to the kitchen to give him space and to finish dinner.
Nico takes long steps from one side of the room to the other, running his hands through his beard and mumbling something I can’t quite understand.
“I’m sorry about this. I’ll just go,” he says at last.
Pull Me Close: The Panic Series Page 8