by Carol Caiton
He stared at the figure he'd circled and made a decision. He might not have all the pieces of the puzzle but this was something he could do. Nina wouldn't have to know he was the person who took care of it.
So he reached for the landline phone and began dialing. He knew the call would be answered, even if it had been first thing Christmas morning. Then he carefully explained what he wanted and how he wanted it done.
By five o'clock that evening Lydia Millering's medical bills no longer existed.
CHAPTER 37
Nina knew right away she was going to like her job at Davidson, Davidson & Bligh. Everyone she met seemed to like working there, though the evidence of pleasure within the walls of a law firm was distinctly different from the energetic environment she was accustomed to while at Property Concepts. Law was a serious, academic business. Conservatively dressed, diligently working at their stations, her co-workers were a serious, academic bunch. She could expect no exuberant shouts, no pumping of fists at the closing of a deal . . . but then, she'd yet to witness the triumph of winning a lawsuit. Would champagne and caviar be more the norm?
As with RUSH, the level of sophistication here was a steep cut above anything she was accustomed to. The partners were practically revered by everyone. It was an attitude she'd have to adjust to since she'd always been treated as an equal and reciprocated that perspective. Still, smiles came easily. Everyone was friendly and helpful when she lost her way amid the myriad corridors, and after the emotional roller coaster she'd been riding these past weeks, the steady predictable routine of a job would be a welcome relief. Having her own office, which did, in fact, look out over the city, and the guarantee of a regular paycheck allowed her to breathe again. It wouldn't be long before she could look for a place of her own. She had to start looking for a place of her own after what had happened with Ethan. But she couldn't think about that now. Not yet. Right now she was still finding her footing. Fitting in.
She'd brought with her all the self-confidence she'd learned at RUSH. She took time with her appearance, carried herself well, and observed the proprieties. She could make a future for herself here and she planned to do that. It was a time for starting over, for making a new circle of friends. She hadn't even finished her first day on the job before two people made sure she knew about the firm's annual Christmas party.
The first was one of the senior partners through his personal assistant, Patricia Jackson. "Every year one of the partners hosts a party," she explained. "It'll be a good way to meet everyone and you're welcome to bring a guest."
Nina certainly wasn't going to refuse. She was sure all the firm's employees were expected to attend. But the truth was, she wanted to go. Her job and co-workers at Davidson, Davidson & Bligh were going to become a significant part of her life. This was her new community. She wanted to integrate, find her place, and make it work.
"We don't do a gift exchange," the PA added, pausing on her way out the door. "But you'll enjoy yourself. Everyone relaxes and lets go, some more than others," she added, and her smile suggested the reserve Nina had been pondering might be hiding a spirit of fun. "You picked a good time of year to join the firm," she finished. Then she was gone.
The second came as an invitation and caught her off guard.
"It's Nina—right?"
She looked up to find a strikingly handsome man in her doorway. He was dark-haired, not as tall, but every bit as good-looking as Simon. Three paces into her office, however, she decided the similarities ended there. Whereas Simon wore his good looks as a matter of course, something about this man's self-important saunter across the carpet told her he was well aware of his physical appeal and expected her to be just as dazzled. Still, she didn't know who he was, so she held her impression in check and opened her mouth to assure him that yes, she was Nina Millering.
She wasn't quick enough though.
Before she could utter a sound, he said, "I'm Bill Durrand."
He approached her desk, perched one hip on the far corner, and smiled a perfectly white, magazine smile.
Technically he wasn't in her personal space, but he towered over her, intruding on her comfort zone.
"It's nice to meet you, Bill," she said, and rolled her chair back a couple of inches.
"I'm one of the firm's associate attorneys," he clarified for her. "I handle bankruptcy cases. Next floor up," he added. "I saw you wandering around up there looking lost."
With a polite smile she leaned back, adding another couple of inches between them and admitted, "The corridors don't seem to follow a set pattern. It's going to take a while to learn my way around."
"First day on the job is always an adventure, isn't it?"
She would have described it as unsettling and a little confusing but she said, "It'll get easier each day. I have a good sense of direction." Then, nudging him toward the purpose of his visit, she said, "What can I do for you, Bill?"
He slid his thigh farther onto the desktop. "I saw Patricia out in the corridor. Did she come down to tell you about the Christmas party?"
"As a matter of fact she did. It sounds like a good opportunity to meet everyone."
"It will be. No one misses it. But that's my reason for coming to see you, too."
He smiled a charmed smile and leaned over the desk toward her. "I hadn't planned on taking a date. In fact I never have before. But when I saw you upstairs, I thought you might appreciate having someone introduce you around—point out the people to know if you want to climb the ladder, and the ones to avoid if you don't want the entire office to know your business."
She considered how to respond. He was a co-worker, an attorney who had been with the firm a heck of a lot longer that the few hours she'd been sitting behind her new desk. She had no idea how many company parties he'd attended—without a date—but she didn't want to be the woman who broke with tradition and showed up on his arm. The attention it would draw, the gossip . . . . What if he made a practice of singling out new female employees before anyone had a chance to warn them about him? She didn't want that sort of complication at work, never mind the fact that she wasn't sure she could even like him as a passing acquaintance.
The smile she gave him this time was more natural. "That's a tempting offer," she said. Not that there were any ladders for the firm's bookkeeper to climb. "And you're right. I would have appreciated your input. But I'm involved with someone." She gave what she hoped was a friendly shrug. "So I'm not free to accept."
It wasn't exactly a lie. Her emotions were very much involved with someone.
But a spark of irritation lit his eyes. Clearly he wasn't accustomed to rejection. "I don't see a ring on your finger," he pressed.
"No," she agreed, scrambling for a response that would stop him in his tracks. "But that doesn't mean I don't have the hope of one."
"The hope of one."
"Yes. Maybe someday."
Unbelievably, instead of giving in gracefully, he scowled and pushed on. "Is he the possessive type?"
"Why do you ask?"
"Just curious. It's a business function. Would your boyfriend object to you attending a business function with a male co-worker?"
Nina laughed, shaking her head. This guy wasn't going to give up. "Even if he didn't object, I would," she said. "It's a party. After hours and outside the office. In my book that makes it a social function."
"All right, all right. You can't blame a man for trying." He straightened, but he gave her a speculative look and remained in position on the corner of her desk. "What a loss."
"I'm sorry?"
"You and I. We could have been good together."
Her eyebrows shot up. She couldn't help it. This man didn't know her from a bag lady out on the street. He couldn't possibly know if they'd enjoy one another's company, so his 'good together' could only mean one thing.
She pretended to misunderstand. "I'm flattered you think so."
He harrumphed. "So you're planning to bring him with you?"
"I don'
t know. I haven't had a chance to think about it yet and he may have other plans."
This time it was Bill's brows that shot up. Too late she realized she'd as good as told him her supposed boyfriend might have plans that didn't include her.
Quickly she amended her comment. "His company party might land on the same date as ours. I'll have to discuss it with him."
Finally he backed down. Taking himself off her desk, he took a step toward the door and said, "If you change your mind, I'm one floor up. I'm not planning to ask anyone else."
She smiled now that he was leaving. "It was nice to meet you, Bill. Thank you for inviting me."
"Mmm."
Sinking back in her seat she puffed out a whoosh of relief. This was the downside to having a voluptuous body. Men saw the package, not the person. And since it was bound to happen again, she'd better be prepared with another excuse—one that didn't rely on someone else to back it up.
Meanwhile she'd have to come up with a good reason for Ethan's absence when she arrived at the Christmas party without him. She could always confess what she'd done and ask him to accompany her. And knowing Ethan, he'd probably agree. But he wouldn't like it.
She sighed. She was drawn to a foul-mouthed man who started half their conversations by yelling at her. A man who drank too much and was probably an alcoholic. A man who bullied her. Bullied her. She didn't understand it no matter how often she tried to reason it out. Okay, so he'd been kind to her. Exceptionally kind. Even if he hadn't given a flying fuck if she accepted his generosity. And he did watch out for her, no matter that his concern was accompanied by a thundercloud of shouting.
Something inside her softened. He'd taken particular care of her the night she found Simon making love to Kay. He'd ushered her outside, bundled her into his Hummer, and he'd taken her under his wing. He'd protected her. He'd even fabricated a phone call from Lydia in order to rescue her from Simon's tenacity. There had been no shouting that night. No accusations. Instead, his anger had been directed at Simon.
So maybe it wasn't surprising that she cared for him. She wished she could forget all about the linking system at RUSH and ignore everything that held them both in check. She wanted to be with the man who had laughed and teased her at his grandmother's house, the man who made love to her against the hard surface of a refrigerator as though he could no more fight off the attraction between them than she could. Heaven only knew how many times she'd relived those explosive minutes, heard the rasp of breath that expanded his lungs when he all but crushed her breasts in his hands, the releasing hiss of air as he pushed himself against her and squeezed his eyes shut.
She could make him want her again. She knew she could. She had a closet full of clothes designed to entice a man—Lord, did she have the clothes. Eventually his restraint would wear thin. It had happened once. It could happen again, couldn't it?
No. No, it couldn't. He probably knew more about women than she'd learn in a lifetime. He'd know what she was doing and she'd only embarrass herself. He'd made it clear that once was all they'd ever have. He'd given her everything he could without actual physical intercourse. Then, with heart-breaking tenderness, he'd let her go.
Her stomach rumbled and she glanced at her watch. Next week, after she settled into the routine of things, she and Lydia could start meeting for lunch the way they used to. Today, however, she tapped a few keys on her keyboard, clocked out, then reached in her bottom desk drawer for the salad she'd brought and the newspaper she'd picked up the day before.
She wouldn't receive her first paycheck for two weeks, but the need to find a place of her own pressed in on her now. It would be easier in the long run if she separated herself from Ethan as soon as possible. He might be attracted to her, but he resented that attraction. He didn't want to want her. And she didn't want to keep hurting.
So she spread the newspaper across her desk and once again looked for apartment rentals. Next week she'd go to the library and use one of their computers to go online. Now that she had a job, she could get serious about this. And with access to a computer, the selection would be almost endless. Scooping up a forkful of salad, she found what she wanted, skimmed each ad, then paused, fork in midair.
A room, here, downtown, on Summerlin Avenue. Not only was the rent within a range she could afford, but the landlord was willing to divide the security deposit over three monthly installments.
She read the ad once more, then reached for the phone on her desk and dialed the number. It was premature, she knew. The amount of money left in her checking account was enough to move her in, but she'd have to choose between food or gas until her first paycheck came through. Still, butterflies fluttered in her stomach.
"Hello?" an older female voice answered.
"Hello," she said and introduced herself. "My name is Nina Millering. I work at the law firm of Davidson, Davidson & Bligh and I'm looking for a room to rent in the downtown area. Closer to my job."
Dropping the name of her employer had been spontaneous but it probably helped her secure an appointment to see the available room during her lunch hour the following day. And, she told herself, depending on where it was located on Summerlin Avenue, she might be able to walk to work, leaving her just enough money to eat.
She was pleased with herself, even a little excited. Obviously it wouldn't be anything like living in the luxury of Isleworth or her apartment at RUSH, but she'd be out on her own. Fully self-supportive for the first time in her life.
She didn't want to think about saying goodbye to Ethan. Once she moved out of his house there was a good chance she'd never see him again. She had a longstanding membership at RUSH, but he'd be there during the day while she was at work, and she'd only be there at night or on weekends.
Instead she thought about sending money home to her parents each month. Once she knew for sure what her bills amounted to, she could figure out a budget and start helping again.
Closing the newspaper, she refolded it, then saw the headline at the bottom of the front page.
RUSH VINDICATED—AGAIN
She harrumphed quietly. Libby told her that PIC had targeted RUSH with a string of petty grievances. So she read the article to see if that was what it concerned.
In the past Nina had thought some of the causes PIC championed were worthwhile and resulted in positive legislation. PIC backing had contributed to stiffer penalties for sex offenders and they pressured city officials to increase the number of patrols in high-risk communities. On the other hand, however, PIC showed signs of fanaticism with regard to gun control policy and, unfortunately for RUSH, with the freedom to enjoy unrestricted consensual sex in a safe and protected environment.
"Whenever the Pics talk about RUSH, the news ratings go up," Libby had told her. "And when Serena was murdered . . . .God, did you see how fast they swooped in? The protests out at the gates got national coverage and news ratings shot up all over the country."
"I thought your father was in the music business. How do you know about television ratings?"
"My sister's a news anchor out in Los Angeles," Libby answered, shrugging as if that little tidbit was of no consequence. "Every time she phones she wants me to talk about RUSH. You'd think she'd give it up by now."
A sister. Somehow Nina hadn't thought of Libby as having siblings. She wondered what the sister thought about Libby being an R-link. She wanted to ask, wanted to know how her friend's family had reacted when she'd joined RUSH, but the timing wasn't right. Instead, she'd said, "Well I'm surprised everyone is still so interested after two and a half years."
But the look she got was incredulous. "RUSH is always news, Nina. Out west . . . up north . . . . It's a new concept. And all the mystery, all the secrecy . . . . It's a lure and it's a curse—for RUSH and for the city too. Mason Ingersol spends a lot of time at the courthouse."
Nina remembered all the months she and Lydia had searched the Internet for information about RUSH. She understood now that most of the secrecy was in place to protect RU
SH's clientele.
Picking up her fork, she stabbed it into her salad and began to read. Sure enough, just as Libby said, PIC was behind this latest accusation, asserting that RUSH violated a county ordinance restricting the use of water for purposes of irrigation. RUSH, however, utilized a water reclamation system and was found not to be in violation of code.
As the day wore on she became absorbed in work, reviewing the number of billable hours logged by the various attorneys and getting a general feel for how a law firm operated. The fact that she was familiar with the accounting program circumvented a lot of stress, but as the hours stretched into late afternoon, she found herself rubbing her fingers over the muscles in her neck. Maybe it was the result of her first day at a new job. Or maybe it was knowing she'd gotten herself into an awkward predicament with Bill Durrand and the company Christmas party. Or maybe it was her conscience telling her it wasn't wise to push her finances to the limit by moving out of Ethan's house too soon.
By four thirty, a headache had worked its way from her neck to her temples. She never got headaches. Well, rarely anyway. Had she still had access to the R-link salon, she would have phoned ahead, arranged for an appointment, and within an hour of leaving her office, she'd be lying face-down, drowsy with the luxury of warm hands massaging scented oil into her skin. Unfortunately, without that access, she'd have to take her chances on one of the salons at the mall. Since it was only Monday, maybe an early opening would be available.
When she climbed into her car shortly after five o'clock, her head-ache was no worse but it hadn't abated either. Merging in with rush-hour traffic, she adapted the necessary mindset to keep up with the hectic pace. When she turned off the highway and headed for Isleworth, thoughts of Ethan began filling her mind and she forced herself to push them away. Going to RUSH tonight was the right thing to do. She'd shower, prepare his dinner, then get something quick to eat at Magnolias.