Nicholas pushed his shoulders back. “I’ve been there over six months now, so it’s not that new. But it’s going very well.”
Warren’s green eyes lit up. “Atta boy. Make sure the higher-ups know your name and recognize your face. I can’t emphasize how important this is. When I was a resident, my attending physician—”
“I know, Dad.” Nicholas interrupted in a quiet voice before darting his eyes toward his mom.
As the waitress placed our salads on the table, Warren continued, “Have they talked about promoting you from Assistant General Counsel to General Counsel?”
Nicholas paused as if taken aback by the question. “The company already has a General Counsel. But I’m also the Director of Legal Affairs. It comes with a lot of responsibility.”
“I’m not sure going the corporate route was the best move for your career.”
“I got a significant pay raise, Dad,” Nicholas said while cutting into a piece of buffalo mozzarella.
Even though Nicholas argued his father’s statement, I noticed his shoulders droop an inch and wanted to gag Warren with a dirty sock.
“Your brother began his oncology fellowship,” his dad announced proudly before stabbing a cherry tomato with a fork and bringing it to his mouth.
“Which brother is that?” I asked. Nicholas had two older brothers, and both were doctors like his dad. His younger sister was in medical school.
“Neil,” Nicholas said.
“Nathan already heads up pediatrics at Mercy,” Warren added.
I stifled the urge to chuckle at his sons’ similar-sounding names. And his sister’s name was Natalie. Nicholas no longer found it amusing after thirty years. When he first told me, I tried unsuccessfully to get a rise out of him. The only thing that worked was when I called him Nathan in bed. Unfortunately, what had risen quickly deflated, and neither of us were laughing after that.
“What about your family, Kim? Nicholas told us your parents retired to Florida, and your sister lives in Massachusetts with her husband. Do you see them often?” Jeanine asked, blessedly taking the conversation in a different direction.
“Aren’t they a bit young for retirement?” Warren asked.
“Really, Dad?” Nicholas said, shaking his head.
“It’s okay,” I said, wanting to avoid more tension. “Yes, they’re a bit young, but after they sold their store, they decided to get a head start on their golden years.”
“Good for them.” Jeanine smiled warmly at me. “By the time this one retires,” she said, elbowing her husband, “he’ll be ready for the old-age home.”
“Work is keeping me young.” Wiggling his fingers, he said, “I use the muscles so I don’t lose the muscles.”
“Can we let Kim answer Mom’s question about how often she sees her family now?” Nicholas asked. He winked at me. “Go on.”
I grabbed hold of his hand under the table. “I try to get to Florida at least a couple of times a year. Preferably in the winter to escape the cold. I don’t see my sister much, but she and her husband have a trip planned very soon, and Nicholas will finally meet them. Right?” I smiled up at Nicholas.
He returned my grin. “I’m looking forward to it. Mostly to see if she’s as annoying as Kim says.”
I felt myself blush. “I don’t think she’s annoying. She’s just…” I didn’t want Nicholas’s parents to think I was a bitch. “She’s my younger sister,” I mumbled. “You have one too,” I said to Nicholas. “It comes with the role, right?”
“Natalie is irritating. Younger sister or not,” Nicholas said with a straight face before relaxing into a laugh.
“She might be irritating, but she’s top of her class in medical school. I’m proud of my little girl,” Warren said, smiling broadly.
Nicholas bounced his knees under the table. His discomfort was palpable, and I hated being powerless to ease it.
While absently shifting her food around her plate with her fork, Jeanine said, “We’re proud of all four of our wonderful and successful children. Aren’t we, Warren?”
“Of course we are,” Warren agreed. “I’m just sorry Nicholas will never know the satisfaction of saving someone’s life.”
Nicholas released a heavy sigh and flicked his gaze upward.
“I’ve played Operation with Nicholas. It isn’t pretty,” I joked.
Warren and Jeanine blinked at me while Nicholas cocked his head in obvious confusion.
“The board game,” I clarified.
“Oh.” Jeanine laughed.
I gave a timid smile. “On the other hand, he’s amazing in front of the judge—well-prepared, quick on his feet, eloquent.” I’d never actually witnessed Nicholas in the courtroom, but what his parents didn’t know couldn’t hurt them.
“Kim’s just given me a great idea,” Warren belted out.
“What is it, honey?” Jeanine asked cautiously.
Warren beamed at Nicholas and paused dramatically.
Like his son, Warren’s smile could light up a starless midnight sky, and I was pleased to be responsible for the first one of the evening.
“Maybe you should consider running for office. My son, the senator.”
Or not.
Jeanine pressed her lips together in a grimace while Nicholas slumped into his chair.
In desperate need for a subject change, I blurted out, “Don’t forget to leave room for dessert. I made cookies. And we’re christening our new Nespresso machine.”
“Sounds wonderful, Kim. I can’t wait,” Jeanine said in the same rushed tone. Then she winked at me across the table and mouthed, “Thank you.”
A few hours later, after we had reconvened at our apartment for dessert and coffee, I walked Mrs. Strong to the front door to say goodbye.
She extended her arms and pulled me into a hug. I immediately recognized the subtle floral scent of her perfume as one from Nicholas’s company. I wondered if it was a coincidence or a show of support to her son. “It was so nice to finally meet you,” she murmured in my ear before releasing me.
I smiled at her. “Same here. I hope you enjoy the rest of your stay and your time with Neil and Clarissa.” The next stop on the trip was two nights at their eldest son’s McMansion in Scarsdale, New York, about thirty-five minutes outside of the city.
“We will. But I wish we had more time to spend with you. Thank you for a wonderful afternoon. Those cookies were delicious.”
I blushed, embarrassed at taking credit for Bridget’s creation. “My pleasure.” I glanced over her shoulder where Warren was speaking in a muffled tone to Nicholas, whose facial expression had morphed into a deep frown.
Noticing her husband and Nicholas in an intense and seemingly one-sided conversation, Mrs. Strong mimicked her youngest son’s downturned mouth. “I’m so proud of Nicholas for marching to his own beat. He always has,” she said fondly.
I nodded. “He’s a special guy.”
“He’s lucky to have you,” she said, patting me gently on the arm as the men joined us to conclude our goodbyes.
When we finally closed the door behind us, we exhaled a collective sigh of relief. “Thank God that’s over,” I said, leaning against the door.
Nicholas stood in front of me with his eyes narrowed.
“Whatever do you mean?”
I swallowed. “I, uh…your parents are great, but…” Was Nicholas so accustomed to his father’s behavior he could shrug it off within a minute?
Nicholas closed the distance between us and kissed my lips. “I’m teasing you, Kim. I’m not sure you took a breath all afternoon. You turned green there for a minute.”
“It’s not me I was worried about. You told me your dad was intense but…wow.” I faked a shiver.
Nicholas shrugged. “Nothing a little Beatles can’t fix. I promise by the time we get to the fifth track of A H
ard Day’s Night, the pink will return to your cheeks. What’s the fifth track of A Hard Day’s Night?”
Knowing Nicholas wouldn’t open up until I played along, I trailed him to the stereo system. “Unlike you, I don’t have every Beatles album memorized, remember?”
“Take a gander.” He dared me with his eyes.
“‘Can’t Buy Me Love’?”
Nicholas smiled brightly, and for a moment, I wondered if I nailed it. “No. But ‘Can’t Buy Me Love’ is the seventh track. Nice, Kimmie. The fifth track is ‘And I Love Her.’ Amazing song.”
“Yes, it is,” I agreed. “Not to change the subject or anything, but does your dad always ride you so hard about not being a doctor?”
Nicholas took my hand and walked me over to the couch where we sat down side by side and stretched our feet across the coffee table. “First of all, only you’re allowed to ride me hard,” he said, smiling in response to my eye roll. “But, yeah, I’m afraid I was his biggest disappointment.”
My jaw dropped. “Wow. If my biggest disappointment is raising a son who grows up to be a successful, hard-working, honest attorney, I will consider myself the best parent ever.” My heart ached for Nicholas and pounded in anger toward Dr. Strong for belittling his son’s decisions solely because they differed from his own.
“In and of itself, seeking a career in law is not the worst thing in the world, but when your first-born child devotes his life to treating and ultimately curing cancer, and your second-born brings babies into the world, how can protecting the trademark rights of a cosmetics company measure up?”
“I think protecting trademark rights is unbelievably sexy.” At least it was when Nicholas did it. “What was he saying to you when he pulled you aside before they left?”
Nicholas leaned against the couch with his eyes closed. “We were discussing my plans to become the next senator.”
As my breath caught in my throat, I said, “Oh no. When I touted your legal prowess, I hoped your dad would lay off the medical talk. I didn’t mean to give him ideas about you running for public office.”
Nicholas opened his eyes and gave me a weak smile. “I’m kidding. He wants me to consider going back to a law firm where I can get on a partner track and possibly make the management committee. He thinks the corporate world is a dead end unless I can become General Counsel or something more prestigious than one of many vice presidents.”
“But you’re so much happier in the corporate environment. No billable hours, for one.”
“Apparently, happiness is overrated according to the gospel of Warren Strong. Although I do think my brothers are happy with their chosen professions. Maybe I’m the milkman’s kid. Would explain a lot.”
I chuckled. “Well, you’re way hotter than your brothers, and I like you best. So there,” I said while rubbing his thigh.
“Then it’s a good thing I’m dating you instead of my dad now, isn’t it?” Nicholas said with a crooked grin.
I maneuvered my body so I was sitting across his lap facing him. “That’s the understatement of the century. Now kiss me so I can get the vision of you and Warren dating out of my head. And if you’re lucky, I might even ride you hard.”
* * *
I woke up tangled in my covers with my pillow dangling off the side of the bed. When I saw I was alone, I worried I had kept Nicholas up with my restless sleeping. I’d had at least one wild dream during the night—Hannah was pregnant with triplets, and Jonathan was the father. Riddle me that.
I stepped out of bed and walked to the living room, where Nicholas was sitting in the reclining chair. His back was to me, but I could see the top of his head peeking out. Not wanting to startle him, I tiptoed toward him and leaned over the chair. He had his computer on his lap opened to the website of Thompson, Rosenberg, and Sheehan, LLP.
“What’s that?”
Nicholas’s back jutted forward, and he quickly closed his laptop. “Jesus, Kim. You scared me.”
“Sorry.”
I squeezed myself onto the chair with him and placed a hand on this thigh. “What are you doing up so late? What is Thompson, Rosenberg, and Sheehan, LLP?”
“Nothing.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s a law firm.”
“What do you need a lawyer for at almost three in the morning?” I asked with a yawn.
“I don’t need a lawyer. I was thinking about what my dad said—about going back to a firm.”
“Oh, sweetie. Don’t listen to him,” I said while stroking his hair.
“You love your job. And besides, Rob might put a hit on you if you went back to a law firm and it wasn’t his. He’d take you back in a drum beat.”
“True.” Nicholas yawned. Waving his hand in front of his mouth, he said, “It’s contagious.”
“It’s also the middle of the night.” I kissed him softly on the lips and stood up. Reaching for his hand, I said, “Come to bed. Wait till I tell you about my dream.”
Nicholas placed his laptop on the coffee table and followed me to the bedroom. “Was it dirty?”
“No. But it was kind of foul.”
Chapter 12
Hannah was already at the mostly empty restaurant sitting at the bar when I arrived. Naturally, she was flirting with the bartender, who appeared enchanted. As he read something on her phone, he smiled so wide, I could spot his dimples all the way from the restaurant’s entrance. It felt like déjá vu, as the bartender was a captive audience to Hannah the last time I was in a bar with her too.
I sat down at the stool next to her, not wanting to interrupt the moment, but the bartender turned to me immediately with a grin before placing a glass of water in front of my chair. Handing me a cocktail menu, he said, “You must be Hannah’s little friend Long. What can I get you?”
Humored by his use of my last name, and surprised Hannah referred to me as “Long” instead of “Short,” I chuckled. Glancing at Hannah’s drink, I said, “Hi there. I’ll have what she’s having, please.” I didn’t know what it was except it was pink and in a champagne flute—good enough for me. I turned to Hannah. “Hey. I hope I’m not too late.” It was 4:40, but Hannah wisely used the ten minutes to become chummy with the bartender.
Twirling a strand of long, straight ebony hair around her perfectly manicured finger, Hannah said, “Rafael here kept me company.” Then she turned toward Rafael and flashed her pearly smile in his direction. He looked up from preparing my drink and winked at her. Hannah glanced at her diamond-encrusted Movado. “You’re not that late. Plum and Marla failed to mention they had to get to the Island early to prepare for their weekly date night with the hubsters,” she said, rolling her almond-shaped hazel eyes. “Remind me not to reserve a full afternoon for those ungrateful girls again.” Waving her hand, she said, “But never mind me, what’s the big secret? You know, I was this close to making you spill over email. But then I realized it couldn’t possibly be that interesting, and I needed a way to pass the time before meeting with Felicia anyway.”
I opened my mouth to respond, but clamped it shut after her insulting comment sunk in.
“Well?” Hannah regarded me with wide innocent eyes as if completely oblivious. Pushing my drink closer to me, she said, “Drink.”
As I did what she said—not because she told me to but because I needed alcohol to get through this meeting—I silently cursed Caroline’s “brilliant plan.” Reminding myself the sooner I got it over with, the quicker I could go home and distract Nicholas from his boring work, I took a deep breath and told Hannah I wrote a book. I barely heard the words leave my mouth, but was vaguely aware of the occasional blinking of Hannah’s eyes as she listened to me in what appeared to be rapt interest. I finished speaking and held my breath awaiting her reaction. Would she express how cute she thought it was that little Kim wrote a little book? Would she outwardly wish me luck while not so subtly implying it couldn’t possibly
be as well-written or interesting as Cut on the Bias and Tearing at the Seams? Would I have the courage to ask for advice in snagging an agent? To avoid eye contact temporarily, I swallowed some of what turned out to be a delicious fizzy cocktail. When I faced Hannah again, her cheeks were flushed pink, and she had a slender hand clamped against her flawlessly painted mouth.
“I knew you wanted to be a writer, but you…” she said, pointing to me with her bright red nails and laughing. “You always denied, denied, denied.” Motioning toward Rafael, she yelped, “Rafey, Kimmie here wrote a book.”
I choked on my drink. Rafey? How early was Hannah?
A crease forming in Rafael’s chiseled face, he glanced from Hannah to me and questioned, “Kimmie?”
Flipping her hair and pointing at me, Hannah said, “Long.”
His facial muscles relaxing, Rafael said, “Ohhh, Long. How nice. Hannah here is a writer too.”
I narrowed my eyes at Hannah. “You never asked if I wanted to be a writer.” Given, it wasn’t the first time she’d accused me of wanting to be a writer, but she’d never actually asked before. However, if she had asked, I would have absolutely denied, denied, denied.
Scrutinizing me from head to toe as if she only just noticed I was there, Hannah said, “Great pants.” With a very deliberate gaze at my face, she asked, “Since when have you had freckles?”
I instinctively went to scratch my nose, the only part of my face decorated with freckles. “Since always.”
Hannah nodded and removed her phone from her Dooney & Bourke satchel while I stared at her incredulously, thinking what the hell?
After typing a few words, she dropped the phone back in the bag and turned to me. “Did you need to ask me something? I don’t have much time.”
I licked my dry lips. “Like I said, I wrote a novel. Unfortunately, the only bite I got from an agent resulted in a rejection because she couldn’t sell it in this market…” I swallowed hard as I pushed a hair out of my face. “I wondered if you could give me some advice.” I took a huge gulp of my drink and with a shaky hand placed the glass back on the bar.
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