Wine and Whiskey (Surviving Absolution #1)

by Nikki Belaire

  Feigning a composure she doesn’t possess, she attempts to reason with him as if he’s not a mad man, as if she’s not at his mercy. “You’d better go. I don’t want you to get in trouble. Nick would be furious to know you’re in here.”

  “Sure, but not at me. If you tell him, I’ll say you invited me. Welcomed me into his bed while he was away, hard at work.”

  Her stomach drops. He’s trying to blackmail her. Holding her fear of hurting Nick over her head to get what he wants. “He won’t believe you. He knows I love him and would never cheat on him.”

  He frowns at her, his lower lip extended in an exaggerated pout. “Really? How does he know?” His mouth curls into a smirk before he winks at her. “You never tell him.”

  He’s been spying on them. Listening to their private conversations, discovering her insecurities. And using them against her. Against Nick. Nausea washes over her. “Why are you doing this?”

  “Because I can.”

  “Please leave me alone.” She tries to roll away, but his grip tightens, pulling her onto her back, leering down at her.

  “Do you like whiskey?”

  “What?”

  “Whis-key.” He speaks slowly as if he’s talking to a child. “Do you like it?”

  Confusion steals her voice, fearful of where his question will lead, of what her answer may cause him to do. She shakes her head.

  “Now, see, that’s why you and Nick don’t belong together. It’s harsh and caustic just like him. You on the other hand…” She flinches from him caressing her hair, looping a strand around his finger. “Are sweet and gentle. You drink wine, but you probably like those girly drinks with the little umbrellas too, don’t you?”

  This doesn’t make any sense. He risks Nick’s wrath to talk about drinks. “I don’t understand why you’re doing this. Nick’s trying to help you. He gave you a job and—”

  “Good thing you’re hot, or you’d never make it. You’re so naïve.” He lays his finger on her lips, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Now remember, this is our little secret. Otherwise, I’ll tell Nick all about you seducing me. Then, we’ll see how much he loves you.”

  He climbs off the bed and carefully smoothes the wrinkles from the comforter, as if erasing the evidence of his presence. “See you later.”

  As soon as the door closes, she throws off the blankets and runs to lock it before racing to the bathroom. Her hands tremble as she squeezes the washcloth, waiting for the water to heat. She has to get the feeling of Spencer’s touch off her. Steam rises from her skin, streaked beet red from her fingernails scratching through the fabric.

  Flying back into the bedroom, she yanks off the comforter and pillow cases, wadding them into a ball and running down the stairs and through the breezeway. Sharp pain stabs her fist from pounding on the guest house door.

  Her best friend’s scrunched face peers through the cracked opening, squinting in the bright sunlight. “What time is it?”

  “I don’t know. I need to get rid of these. They’re dirty, and I can’t use them anymore.”

  Carrie glances from the pile of fabric to Shae. “Are you okay?”

  “No, Spencer’s blackmailing me.” She shakes her head, unable to continue. Weakness overcomes her tense muscles, and the linens fall to the floor before she wraps her arms around herself.

  All the drowsiness gone, Carrie’s eyes grow wide. “What the fuck? What happened?”

  “I was sleeping, and he held me down…” The words catch in her throat, and she trembles, mimicking what he did, shaking from the helplessness of being so vulnerable to his assault. Tears break free and stream down her cheeks as Carrie pulls her into a hug. “I don’t understand what he wants, but I’m scared.”

  “You have to tell Nick.”

  “I can’t. Spencer said—”

  “Fuck what Spencer said. Nick will believe you. I know he will.”

  She nods her head. Carrie’s rational logic calms her racing thoughts. “You’re right. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

  “When he finds out what Spencer did, he’ll kill him. There’s no way he’ll let him get away with it.”

  Another wave of nausea turns her stomach. She’ll be responsible for his death. Juan escaped, but Spencer won’t. Unable to steady her shaking legs, she drops down onto Carrie’s bed. “I can’t do this anymore. I want to go home.”

  Carrie lies next to her and brushes her hair off her forehead. “Calm down. It’ll be okay. We’ll get it figured out.”

  “I miss my mom and Jason. I just want everything to be normal again.”

  “Yeah, because being a pop star princess is really normal.”

  A half-hearted giggle escapes Shae’s mouth. “How did we get like this? I never dreamed back in kindergarten this is how we would end up.”

  “Remember when we were going to be vets? I wanted to take care of dogs, and you were going to save all the wild horses.”

  Shae rolls onto her back. Golden rays stream through the sky light, flickering across the ceiling. The desire to feel its warmth on her face engulfs her. “Everything was so simple back then. I wish I had appreciated it at the time.”

  “That’s the way it’s supposed to be when you’re a kid. It’s only when you get older things get complicated.”

  “What should I do?” Her voice drops to a whisper, all she can manage while trying to ignore the thoughts of Nick’s rage. “I don’t want Nick to kill Spencer. I just want him to leave us alone.”

  Carrie pops up and sits cross legged on the bed, laying one palm on top of the other. “Tell me again. What exactly did Spencer say he wants?”

  She clenches the bedspread in her fist, unable to make sense of his words. “Nothing. He said he wanted to ask me a question and then talked about whiskey. That’s it.”

  “That’s so crazy. You’d think he’d want money or sex.”

  Maybe that’s what’s coming next. She pushes the idea out of her head. “Please, Carrie. Don’t say that.”

  “Sorry, but it’s weird.” Carrie shakes her head. “You’re going to have to tell Nick. Tonight, when he comes home. Just tell him Spencer gives you the creeps, and you want him fired. He’ll do it.”

  “I can’t. He’ll want to know what Spencer did to make me want him gone.”

  “Tell him he needs to concentrate on school. His grades are bad from working so much. He can’t be mad about that.”

  Spreading her fingers, Shae rubs her hands across the comforter. It won’t be easy to convince Nick why she wants Spencer to leave without him becoming furious. “I don’t know.”

  “It will work. You have to tell him.”

  “I’ll try.”

  “Until then, let’s keep you busy and away from Spencer. Maybe we can go for a run.”

  Shae almost whimpers at the idea of being outside. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

  “Good. Afterward, we’ll go get you some new bedding.”

  She nods and grasps Carrie’s hand. The first feeling of optimism she’s had all morning. “I want to go home too. There’s something I need to get.”

  “Okay, let’s go find Max.”

  * * * *

  “Janice ordered you some lunch.” Carter slides a Styrofoam container across Nick’s desk before plopping down in the chair across from him.

  Nick stifles a yawn as he stretches his arms over his head. Maybe some food will give him the boost he needs to get through the rest of the afternoon. Only one more conference call, and he can go home to the person who really improves his mood. With a flick of his finger, the lid pops open and the aroma of roast beef and horseradish fills his office. “She’s the best secretary I’ve ever had.”

  “And the oldest. Damn, why don’t you let the poor woman retire?”

  Nick unscrews the lid on his water and takes a long drink. “I’m not stopping her. She says she likes it, so as long as she wants it, the job is hers.”

  “You’re such a soft ass with women.”

  “Don’t go
there, or I’ll finish what I started.”

  Carter gingerly rubs his nose. “Believe me, I won’t. You should see the stares I’ve been getting. My face looks like a fucking freak show.”

  Tapping a file on his desk with the back of his hand, Nick swallows down his bite. “Do you have that update on the Lefler-McMillan merger I wanted?”

  “Why yes, I am feeling better. Thank you for your concern. The swelling should be gone in about four to six weeks.”

  Nick shrugs his shoulders. Carter knows better than to expect any sympathy from him after what he did. “Don’t fuck with me when it comes to Shae. Then, you won’t have to worry about ruining your pretty-boy looks.”

  “At least she actually cared and tried to help me.”

  “Which you didn’t deserve.”

  “I know.” Carter shakes his head, his brow furrowed. “I have to admit, it shocked me. I guess I was wrong about her.”

  Nick nods at Carter’s version of an apology. Shae’s sweet nature affects him too. “Just proves how good-hearted she is, even though she doesn’t always know the impact she has on people sometimes.”

  Carter clears his throat and stares at him, tapping his forefinger on the desktop. “Exactly. That’s all I was trying to say last night before you went ballistic.”

  “Drop it.”

  “Speaking of, is that why you’re so tired this morning?” He raises his eyebrows and smirks, his annoying arrogance returning. “Shae keep you up late last night?”

  His regret about punching him starts to dissipate as Carter eggs him on. “I mean it. I’m not in the mood.”

  “Fine.” Carter puts his hands up in surrender. “What’s wrong with you? Why are you such a grouch?”

  Nick frowns as he rubs his forehead, a bad feeling brewing in his gut with the uncertainty remaining from Max’s latest investigation. “Jessica’s called me twice, but didn’t leave messages. I’m having Max look into it, but he hasn’t found much yet.”

  “What did he say?”

  “She was living with some poor bastard in Beverly Hills. I guess it fell apart, because her convertible’s been parked outside her sister’s house for the last two weeks.”

  “I guess she’s her sister’s problem then.”

  If only he could be so indifferent about it. Nothing with Jessica is ever that easy. She makes sure it isn’t. He shakes his head. “I just can’t figure out what she wants after all this time.”

  “Hell, I know.” Carter rubs his thumb and fingers together before jerking his hand up and down over his crotch.

  Money and sex, pretty much the basis of his relationship with Jessica. Of all women, until now. God, he’s so lucky to have found Shae. “No, on both counts.”

  Rolling with laughter, Carter raises his eyebrow. “What? You don’t want a nice piece of ass on the side?”

  He’s done listening to this stupid fucker. Nick points to the door. “Get the fuck out of my office.”

  Still smiling, Carter stands up and grabs his sandwich and drink. “Never hurts to have options.”

  * * * *

  Nick rubs his aching neck, relieved to finally be home. “Shae?”

  “I’m in here.”

  He follows her sweet voice into the living room. Wrapped in the yellow bedspread from her house, she sits snuggled in one of the oversized side chairs. Piles of stapled papers line the floor and coffee table. An enormous smile lights up her beautiful face as she holds out her hand to him. If only she was naked like yesterday, he’d be completely happy.

  “I love it that you call for me when you come into the house. It makes me feel very special that you’re looking for me.”

  He scoops her up and sits down with her on his lap, tucking the blanket around them. “You’re the best reason I’ve ever had to come home.” Pinkness dots her cheeks as she tips her head down. Her modesty challenges his restraint not to take her upstairs and show her what her presence means to him. Letting out a deep breath, he gestures to the stacks. “What are you working on?”

  “Gail sent some scripts over. I was reading through them to see if any are worthwhile.”

  “Any luck?”

  “Yes, there’s a good one about a couple who spends their honeymoon trekking around the world. It’s only supposed to last for a year, but they keep traveling against their families’ wishes. It’s a romantic comedy, with a happy ending, of course.”

  “I wouldn’t expect otherwise.” He winks and rubs his finger along the fraying edge of her comforter. “Why do you have this?”

  “I guess it’s kind of silly, but I was missing my mom, and it reminds me of her. Carrie and I stopped by my house, and I brought it back with me.”

  His stomach clenches at her fading smile, the uncertainty clouding her dark blue eyes. Gliding his finger under her chin, he lifts her face and meets her gaze. “Are you unhappy here? With me?”

  Her eyes widen before she wraps her arms around his neck, the blanket sliding down to the floor, her heart pounding against his chest. “No! You’re all I want. Just you. Please believe me.”

  “I do, sweetness.” He strokes her hair as she clings to him. With all she’s been through, he hates she has more anxiety, doubt still lingering in her about him, about them.

  After a few minutes, she lifts up and give him a small smile. “How was your day?”

  “Busy. And weird.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Spencer quit.”

  She shakes her head, frowning in confusion. “What?”

  “He called me this morning and said he had some personal problems come up. He might come back, but today was his last day for a while.”

  She shivers and rubs her hands up and down her arms. “Maybe it’s for the best. Now, he can concentrate on school.”

  “I guess so.” He leans forward and picks up the comforter, wrapping it around her again. “What else did you do today?”

  “Carrie and I went shopping, and I bought some new bedding. I hope it’s okay.”

  “You can do whatever you want during the day, as long as you let me do this at night.”

  A small moan vibrates under his lips as he nuzzles her neck. Her hands slide under his jacket and curl around his back, pulling him tighter, making his groin twitch with her sweet body rubbing against him.

  “It’s a deal.”

  “Is not, how you say, get a room.” Marta’s voice interrupts the sealing of their agreement. “Come eat hot dinner.”

  * * * *

  Shae’s stomach rumbles from the comforting scents of vanilla and honey permeating the kitchen, as she flips through sketches from her upcoming clothing line launch and eats a late breakfast. Yogurt with walnuts and fresh blueberries can’t compete with the sweet temptations Marta creates.

  Flour trails across her yellow apron as Marta wipes her hands before rolling out a lump of tan dough and cutting it into strips. She squints behind her wire-rimmed glasses, concentrating on completely covering the thin layers with damp dishcloths.

  With her willpower lacking, Shae can’t resist. “What are you making?”

  “Baklava. Is Max favorite. He eat too much.” She waves her hand, dismissing any argument. “I make anyway.”

  Shae smiles into her bowl. Marta refuses to admit the soft spot she has for Max. Always nagging him about his eating habits, yet cooking what she knows he likes. “Can I help?”

  The older woman nods and beckons her over to the island, where the cookbook lays open with baking supplies spread across the counter. “Yes, I teach you. Then you know is best.” Her trim, square fingernail drags across the recipe before stopping and tapping at the second step. “You mix nuts and cinnamon.”

  Aware of Marta’s high standards, she measures the pecans to an exact level before pouring them into a glass bowl and sprinkling them with the spice. Unlike her mother, who loved the adventure of cooking without a recipe, using a pinch of this and a shake of that, Marta’s cooking always turns out well. At least she and her mom laughed a
lot, even if they lost more than a few meals from her experimenting. She gives the mixture a gentle stir, careful not to spill any over the sides.

  Nodding her head in approval, Marta points to the sauce pan. “Now melt butter.” The housekeeper stretches forward to inspect the sizzling hiss of cold meeting hot. “Is good.”

  The pats dissolve in streaks across the bottom as Shae tilts her wrist from side to side. “I’ve never had Baklava before. I’m excited to try it.”

  Marta holds up her finger. “People think is Greek. No, is Turkish. Now you know.”

  “Do you know Nick’s favorite dessert too?”

  “His mom always make Tiramisu for him. He love it as little boy.”

  Her hand tightens around the pot handle. “You knew his mom?”

  “She go to my church. We meet and quick be friends. I help her…” Marta shakes her head. “When she sick.”

  Nick never said anything about his mom having an illness. “What do you mean?”

  Marta frowns and shakes her head again before crossing herself, mumbling words Shae can’t make out. “Please, Marta. I don’t understand.”

  “Salvador not good man.”

  Cold chills run through her body. Not sick. Injured at the hands of her husband.

  “When she disappear, I come for Nick. Too little to take care of himself.”

  No wonder Nick has such a strong bond with Marta. She mothered him when his own mom couldn’t. Fearful of dropping the pan from her shaking hands, Shae sits it on a cold burner and slumps down onto one of the stools lining the bar. “Did Salvador hit Nick too?”

  Marta presses the dough into the cake pan, metal scraping against the countertop as she shaves off the overlapping edges. “Sometimes. Her most of times. Salvador, he no good. No good to her or Nick.” She jerks the dish back in front of her and resumes her vigorous cutting, shaking her head. “When I here, Salvador work, gone lots of times. Nick need me so not alone.”

  The admission hurts Marta too. She loves Nick like her own son. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. I just wanted to understand what happened.”

  “Is okay. You good girl. You take care Nick too.”