Showering and dressing took more effort than he wanted to admit and, concerned he may still be over the safe driving limit, he caught a taxi to the office. Nicole had her car there so they could travel home together at the end of the day.
“Is Miss Wilson not with you this morning?” April asked as he entered the office.
Nate felt the first pang of warning. “Isn’t she already in the office?”
“No, she left a note for me saying she wouldn’t be in. I thought she would be arriving with you.”
Nate felt his blood run cold in his veins. She’d been into the office already?
“Let me know if she calls, will you?” he directed as he strode through to his office and rang the concierge of the apartment building.
Five minutes later he had confirmation that her car had left the parking garage a little after five this morning. Another call confirmed she’d swiped in at the office block parking floor shortly after, but that she’d left again within ten minutes. Which begged the question. Where the hell was she now?
He punched the redial on his office phone for the seventh time this morning, only to get the same automated message—that her phone was either switched off or outside of the calling area. He thought about his own cell phone, which had been damnably silent all morning, and reached into his pocket.
Sometime during the night he’d turned it off while he was out and hadn’t turned it back on again. He must have been more intoxicated than he’d realized. Nate thumbed the on button and waited for the phone to power up. The instant it had connected to its service provider the screen flashed up—one missed call, one message. Cursing himself for all kinds of idiocy, he hit the numbers required to play the message. Nicole’s shaking voice filled his ears.
“I can’t stay with you anymore, Nate. It’s slowly killing me inside. Do what you like with the DVD. I don’t care anymore. I just know that if I don’t get some distance, from you, from everyone, I’m going to go insane. All my life I’ve tried to be everything for everyone. I even had to do it with you, but I can’t do it anymore, not now, not ever again. It’s all too much. I need to take care of me and to learn to put myself first for a change. In fact, I need to find out who I really am, and what I want. I’m sick to death of being told. My mother has asked me to go with her to Adelaide. Please don’t bother trying to contact me again.”
She’d left the message at about six o’clock this morning and it sounded as if she was crying toward the end, as if she was teetering on the edge of a breakdown. Nate felt every muscle in his body clench as the urge to protect her fired through him. He had to find her, needed to find her. As vulnerable as she was right now, she needed a champion. Someone to watch over her while she got her act back together. Someone like him. Certainly not someone like Cynthia Masters-Wilson.
Nate remembered the GPS device in her phone, the one that could track where she was at any given time. He called through to his IT guy, Max, who promised to get on it and let him know within the next few minutes where her phone was. In the meantime, Nate hit the search function on his desktop computer and keyed in Auckland International Airport’s departures. Hopefully he wouldn’t be too late to stop her from leaving on the flight for Adelaide.
Hope died a swift and sudden death when he saw the only direct flight to Adelaide that morning had departed at eight o’clock. The time she left the apartment, the time she’d left the message for him—it all fit with her being on that flight out of the country. The flight with her mother.
Anger and frustration vied for dominance as he weighed up the idea of booking the next available plane to Australia and making his way to Adelaide to get Nicole back. He wouldn’t put it past Nicole to refuse to see him, though, nor her mother to prevent him from making any contact with her. Even if he could track her now it wouldn’t be much use to him.
His phone rang on his desk and he swept the receiver up.
“Nate, the tracker shows this address for the phone. Are you sure she’s not hiding in your office somewhere?”
Nate bit back the growl of frustration at his computer geek’s humor. He reached across and opened a drawer where Nicole had often put her things during the day. There, in all its totally specced-up splendor, lay her cell phone. A sticky note on the screen said, I won’t be needing this anymore, in Nicole’s handwriting. Nate slowly slid the drawer closed and thanked Max for the information, then hung up the phone and, propping his elbows on the desk, rested his head in his hands.
The headache he’d woken with was nothing compared to how he felt now. He closed his eyes for a moment and thought hard about what he should do next. Flying to Adelaide was a definite option, but before he did that he needed some ammunition behind him and what better ammunition than her brother’s support?
Nate went to grab his keys, then cursed anew as he remembered he’d left his car at the apartment. Not to worry, there was a taxi rank near the office block. The fare to Parnell and Wilson Wines would be a short one but he’d make it worth the driver’s while.
“I want to see Judd Wilson,” he demanded as he walked past the reception desk at Wilson Wines about fifteen minutes later.
“Mr. Wilson isn’t taking appointments today,” the girl behind the desk stated very primly, her expression changing to one of outrage as Nate totally ignored her and started to climb the stairs that led to the management offices of the two-storied building. “Wait, you can’t go up there!”
“Just watch me,” he said, ascending the stairs two at a time.
At the top of the stairs he caught sight of a woman he recognized as Anna Garrick. Raoul’s reporting had been spot-on as usual. The woman was attractive, not unlike Nicole in coloring, but her hair was a little lighter and she was a bit shorter, too.
“Mr. Hunter?” she asked, a startled expression on her face before she pushed it back under a professional facade.
“Where is Wilson? I need to see him.”
“Mr. Wilson is still in hospital and visitors are restricted to immediate family only.”
“No,” he huffed in frustration, “not Charles Wilson, I want to see Judd Wilson, right now.”
“Well, then,” she said, now appearing completely unruffled. “If you would like to take a seat I’ll check if he can see you.”
“I’m not waiting. Just show me where he is. This is important.”
“Is that so?” Another male voice sounded across the carpeted foyer. “Don’t worry, Anna, I’ll see him in my office.”
Nate couldn’t help but intercept the look that passed between the two of them. Questioning his presence, for sure, but there was something more between them. Something that made him feel very much on the outside.
“Where’s Nicole?” he demanded, not taking time for introductions or finesse.
“Why don’t you come into my office and we’ll talk, hmm?”
Judd Wilson gave him a cool blue stare, one that reminded him that he was on their turf right now and in no position to be making demands. With ill-concealed frustration he moved into the room Judd had gestured him into and seated himself in a chair opposite a large mahogany desk. If Jackson Importers was everything that was modern and current, Wilson Wines was the opposite. There was a sense of longevity about the fixtures and fittings, even about the building itself. As if they’d been here awhile and they would be here for quite a while still to come.
The sensation that filled him now was not unlike envy. This should have been part of his father’s business, too, part of his legacy. But he didn’t have time to dwell on old bitterness and recriminations. Right now he had one priority. Nicole, and her whereabouts.
“Now, how about you tell me what it is you want?” Judd said from the other side of the desk, his gaze still unfriendly.
“Nicole’s gone. I need to find out where she went so I can get her back.�
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“My sister is a big girl now, Hunter. I think if she cannot be reached by you, then perhaps she simply doesn’t want to be.”
“She’s not herself at the moment. She’s been under immense pressure and I don’t think she’s capable of making a rational decision right now. Please, you must help me,” Nate implored, shoving pride to one side for the sake of the woman he loved and cared for more than anyone else in the world.
“Must? I don’t think so. Not under the circumstances. She left us to be with you. Now she’s left you, too. What makes you think we’d do anything to help you get her back?”
“I think she’s gone to Adelaide with your mother.”
Judd leaned back in his chair, the lift of one brow his only expression of surprise at the news.
“No, she wouldn’t have done that,” Anna Garrick’s voice came from the door.
“Why not?” Nate asked, confused. Nicole had made the point quite clear in her voice message that her mother had invited her to leave New Zealand with her.
“Because she couldn’t, that’s why. Her passport is still here in the office safe.”
Nate felt all the fight drain out of him. Now he had no idea where Nicole could be. Searching for her would be like looking for a needle in a haystack. He had no rights to find out where she was. She’d left on her own accord, severing all ties with him.
“Thank you,” he said brokenly, getting up from his seat and making for the door.
“Hunter, can I ask why you’re so desperate to find her?” Judd asked from behind the desk.
“Because I love her, and I’ve done the most stupid thing in my life by letting her go.”
Twelve
The look of shock on Judd’s and Anna’s faces had been little compensation for the empty days, and nights that stretched ahead. By Friday night Nate was a mess—his concentration shot to pieces, his temper frayed. He’d never been this helpless in his life. Well, at least not since his father’s fallout with Charles Wilson, when his whole world had turned upside down.
It didn’t help that everything around him reminded him of Nicole. From the lotions and perfume on his bathroom vanity, to the items of clothing that were mixed in with his laundry. Even in the office there was the constant reminder of her phone in his drawer, her laptop neatly sitting on the top of the desk.
Every day since she’d left he’d asked himself where she could be. He’d toyed with reporting her missing to the police, but he was quite certain he’d have been laughed out of the station. After all, she was an adult. They’d had a fight. The separation that had come next was a natural progression. Except it felt unnatural in every way, shape and form.
Someone had to know where she was. She was a gregarious creature, one who got along with people. A pack animal rather than a loner. He wracked his brains to think of who she could have been in touch with. Only one name came to mind.
Anna Garrick. She’d said very little when he’d been at their office on Tuesday morning. Mind you, he’d been an over-reactive idiot—making demands and being belligerent. Hardly the way to garner respect or assistance. It was possible, too, that Nicole may not have even been in touch with her at that stage, but who was to say she hadn’t been in touch since?
The time between making his decision to speak with Anna and arriving at the Wilson home became a blur. As he directed his car up the driveway he couldn’t help but admire the enormous replica gothic mansion that loomed at the top. It had taken a hell of lot of hard work to build all of this and then to hold on to it, he knew, and he found himself experiencing a begrudging respect for the man who had held it all together.
He went to the door and lifted the old-fashioned knocker, letting it fall against the brass plate behind it.
A neatly suited man answered the door.
“I’d like to see Ms. Garrick, please,” Nate said, after he gave his name.
“One moment please, sir. If you’ll just take a seat in the salon, I’ll see if she’s free.”
Nate didn’t know if Anna was playing games with him or if she was simply genuinely busy, but he didn’t like having to cool his heels for a good twenty minutes before she came into the salon to greet him. He had to remind himself more than once that he needed to keep his impatience in check if he was to find out if she knew where Nicole was.
When she finally deigned to see him she was composed and solicitous, probably more so than he deserved after the last time he’d seen her. She offered him a drink, obviously comfortable in her role as hostess. Nate declined her offer, too filled with nervous energy to do anything but pace the confines of the room. She composed herself on an elegantly covered antique two-seater sofa and eyed him carefully.
“What can I do for you, Mr. Hunter?”
“Nate, please call me Nate.”
“Nate, then. What is it that you want?”
He swallowed and chose his words carefully. “Have you heard from Nicole?”
“If I had, do you really think she’d want me to tell you?”
He sighed. “I take it you have, then. Is she—”
“She’s fine, but she doesn’t want to see you or anyone else right now.”
Nate lifted his eyes to Anna’s, searching her calm hazel gaze for any sign that she was worried about her friend.
“I need to see her,” he said, the words blunt and filled with an edge of pain he couldn’t hide.
Anna shook her head. “Isn’t it enough to know she’s okay?”
“What do you think?” he asked her, letting every raw pain of loss show in his eyes. “I love her, Anna. I have to tell her I’m sorry, and I need to see if she’ll give me another chance.”
“I would be betraying her trust if I told you where she was. I’ve already done that once, recently, and I have to tell you that I’m not prepared to do that again. It nearly destroyed our friendship.”
“Don’t you think I know that? I’m begging you here.”
“I can’t. She needs to know she can trust me.”
Nate felt as if a giant ball of lead had settled in his gut. Anna had been his only hope. “I want her to know she can trust me, too,” he said brokenly as he rose to his feet and headed out the room. At the doorway he turned, “Thank you for seeing me. If you talk to her soon, please tell her…ah, hell, don’t worry, it wouldn’t make a difference, anyway.”
The pity in Anna Garrick’s eyes cut him straight to his heart. Nicole was lucky to have a friend like her, he told himself as he forced his feet toward the front door and headed down the stairs toward his car.
The heavy tread of rapid footsteps followed him down the stairs.
“Hunter, wait up.”
It was Judd Wilson. Nate turned to face him.
“Yeah,” he said, without even the will to fake a politeness he certainly didn’t feel.
“I know where she is.”
Nate felt something leap in his chest. “And you’ll tell me?”
“Anna will kill me for this, but someone needs to cut you a break,” the other man said. “Anyone can see you’re hurting. The two of you need to work this out one way or another. You both deserve that much.” He gave Nate an address about a two-hour drive north of Auckland. “Don’t make me regret this, Hunter. If you hurt her again, you’ll be answering to me.”
Nate proffered his hand, and felt an overwhelming sense of relief when Judd took it. Their shake was brisk and brief. “I owe you,” he said solemnly.
“Yes, you do,” Judd replied just as gravely. “We can talk about that later.”
Nate gave him a nod of assent and headed for his car. He needed to swing by the apartment before driving up to see her. There was something he needed to collect. It was late, but maybe Nicole would still be awake by the time he made it to where s
he was staying. And if she wasn’t, well, then he’d just wait until she was.
Nicole brushed the sand off her feet with an old towel she’d been keeping on the edge of the deck for just that purpose. Late-night walks along the sandy shoreline of Langs Beach had become a habit as she tried to do what she could to exhaust herself into sleep every night.
Since making the decision to leave Nate, and risk the consequences, she’d hardly slept a wink. So far Nate hadn’t sent the DVD to her father, she knew that much. Anna had been keeping her up to date on her father’s progress and it looked as if he’d turned a corner healthwise. Of course, that could all change if he viewed the thing. And while that preyed on her mind, when she was honest with herself, she knew she wasn’t sleeping mostly because she missed Nate. Missed his strength, his solid presence beside her at night.
She sighed as she made her way across the deck, her feet frozen in the frigid night air. She could have worn shoes, probably should have, but she loved the feel of the squeaky white sand beneath her feet and, at this time of night, she could enjoy the sensation completely on her own with only the stars above her for company.
The aged French doors groaned as she opened them to let herself inside the rather decrepit holiday home she’d rented. After she’d left her laptop and the phone Nate had given her at the office, she’d just driven north—stopping only long enough to pay for the toll charge on the Northern Motorway and to pick up a cheap prepaid cell phone from a gas station on the way.
She didn’t know what had drawn her to the area, aside from the fact it was near the sea and it was nothing like the west coast beach that Nate’s house overlooked. Of course, if her goal had been to avoid reminders of Nate, then she’d failed. She hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the man since she’d gotten here.
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