The Blue Link (RUSH, Inc. Book 1)

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The Blue Link (RUSH, Inc. Book 1) Page 55

by Carol Caiton


  Nina looked up from patting her own mouth.

  "Simon probably wouldn't admit it," Libby went on, "but you two have been great for business. Just look around. Have you noticed how many day-time people come back at night now? Well, maybe you haven't been here long enough to know the regulars. But look at the crowd. The whole place is full and Magnolias is never like this after seven, except on weekends."

  Nina did look around. Surveying the dining room she saw Libby was right. She also saw a number of heads turned in their direction. "I'm glad we got a corner table."

  "See what I mean? And last night was the same. Did you notice how busy the food court was? And that had nothing to do with the balmy weather yesterday. But God," she flopped back in her chair and sighed, "I felt awful for Simon."

  So had Nina.

  "For you, too."

  So had Nina.

  "He couldn't have known you'd be eating dinner at the exact same time he was ready to eat. And if he'd known we were sitting at an outdoor table, I bet he would have gone inside. Or maybe just ordered take-out."

  "You're probably right."

  "You know," Libby said, "it's just a thought, but maybe you should consider his offer after all and move in with him."

  Nina stopped chewing and stared across the table.

  "Don't look at me like that."

  "Moving in with him wouldn't help now. It's too late."

  "It's never too late when you've got a blue link with the man."

  But Nina was already shaking her head. "No. I can't."

  "Can't or won't?"

  "Both."

  "Look. Nina." Libby sat up again, leaned over the table and lowered her voice. "He said you could have your own room. Living in Ethan's house can't be helping matters."

  Nina lowered her eyes. She set her fork down and pushed her plate away.

  "Nina?"

  "Hmm?" She tucked her hair behind her ear.

  Suspicion saturated the air between them. One bright pink fingernail tapped the tablecloth. "What aren't you telling me?"

  "Nothing."

  "It's not nothing. I can tell. Did you catch him with that woman again?"

  "No." She met Libby's eyes again. "I haven't seen him with anyone at all. And I think he honestly regrets what happened."

  Libby narrowed her eyes. "It's Ethan, isn't it?"

  Nina went still.

  "I knew it, I knew it, I knew it. God, Nina, have you slept with him?"

  "No!" She softened her tone. "No I haven't slept with him. I'm attracted to him, that's all. But it's a moot point because Ethan doesn't want anything to do with me. We avoid one another as much as possible," she said. "I haven't even seen him since the night I made such a mess of everything."

  A canny little smile gleamed in Libby's eyes. "Gee, that's a mighty big answer to an itsy-bitsy question."

  "Itsy-bitsy, my left foot."

  Libby grinned. It was a simpering grin that revealed a row a pearly-white teeth. Her ringlets bobbed as she propped an elbow on the table and planted her chin in her palm. "You know, it's interesting that you've told me all about your ups and downs with Simon but you've never said a word about Ethan."

  "It's not interesting at all. There's nothing to tell."

  Nina slid her chair back and stood, forcing Libby to sigh and stand as well. She reached for her jacket. "Does Simon suspect it?" she asked.

  Nina nodded. "Yes."

  "Oh, God."

  Nina gazed at the colorful effects of the floodlights on the shrubbery. "It was terrible," she said quietly. "He wanted Ethan to tell me it was time to move out but Ethan wouldn't do it."

  "Oh, boy."

  "Libby, they stared at one another and it was like watching an entire conversation pass between them without words. Then Simon . . . . I've never seen someone turn to stone the way he did. Everything about him hardened second by second—his expression, his whole face . . . . And right in front of my eyes I watched their friendship fall apart. It just . . . fell apart." She swallowed. "Then he stood up, looked over at me, and walked out."

  "Oh, sweetie." Libby linked her arm through Nina's and laced their fingers together. "There must be something else going on here. Something bigger."

  "What do you mean?"

  Libby lowered her voice. "Ethan knows you're Simon's blue link. He wouldn't interfere with that. But he wouldn't ostracize a good friend, either, not without a really good reason. And they're business partners, Nina, so you're missing something. Something big."

  They continued walking in silence until they reached the central gate at the R-link complex. Libby pulled her fingers from Nina's and withdrew her arm. "Are you sure Ethan doesn't have feelings for you? No, don't shake your head without thinking about it."

  "I don't have to think about it. I told you. I haven't even seen him since that night. Not here at RUSH, not at home . . . . He doesn't speak to me—not hello, goodbye, thanks for dinner . . . nothing."

  He hadn't even confronted her for staying out late without checking in. He just didn't care anymore.

  "Well there's got to be something going on. But if what you say is true, I wouldn't worry too much. Simon will probably realize he was wrong to leave you without a choice. And he and Ethan will hash things out over a few beers. What class do you have next?"

  "I don't. Why?"

  "I thought maybe you were heading over to the Moon Orchid Spa. Didn't you tell me you signed up for tai chi over there?"

  "Yes, but it's not open yet."

  "The main spa isn't, but they finished remodeling the fitness center. There's a fire exit on the side of the building you're supposed to use. Didn't you get the e-mail? They started classes today, including tai chi."

  "I'll have to check my inbox."

  In actual fact, she hadn't logged onto her account for quite a while. By the time she left work and drove home, then prepared Ethan's dinner and drove to RUSH, she had to hurry to make it to class on time. Then, at the end of the night, she was too tired to stop at Member Services to check her account before leaving. She just wanted to climb into her car and drive home again.

  "I'll head over to the Spa right now. I'm glad you said something."

  She turned and started to walk away, then looked over her shoulder. "Hey, Lib?"

  "Yeah?"

  "Ask Geneva if she wants to join us tomorrow night."

  A happy smile touched Libby's eyes. "I will."

  Approaching the Moon Orchid Spa, memories she wished she could block out leapt to the front of her mind. She hurried to the gate, pressed her hand on the scanner, and made her way around the side of the building.

  She hoped tai chi really was on tonight's schedule and she hoped she was on the roster. She needed this class. She'd been perfectly serious when she told Ethan she wanted a body prep for the simple relief of an all-over massage. As a last resort it was still in the back of her mind. Too many burdens in so short a period of time was edging her toward overload. Without regular exercise and deprived of the spa services at the R-link salon, she sometimes thought she might snap.

  As it happened, tai chi was on the schedule and yes, she was on the roster each night for the 9:30 class.

  With an hour to spare, she checked in, found her assigned locker, and secured her purse, sweater, and most of her jewelry inside. She didn't have her loose-fitting gi pants and T-shirt, but her tank top would provide plenty of freedom and she could put up with the discomfort of skinny jeans for an hour.

  She closed the locker and started for the indoor refreshment bar. She recognized a few women from some of her evening classes and exchanged a nod and a smile, but she didn't engage in conversation. Maybe she was being paranoid, but she didn't want to cultivate any new friendships. It would take only one person innocently asking if she was the girl blue-linked to Simon Yetzer and the door would have opened for further questions. So she chose a small corner table, ordered a peach-and-coconut smoothie, and spoke to no one.

  With the same idea in mind, she took a
position at the back of the class, focusing on the instructor, then on centering her body weight. Surprisingly, she was clumsy. She'd lost a lot of the grace and fluidity she'd achieved in earlier classes though she hadn't missed that many. It seemed as though she was back at the beginning, learning how to counterbalance the weight of her breasts and readjust her posture to accommodate them. Half an hour passed before she limbered up, then several more minutes before she moved through the forms with any modicum of ease. When class was dismissed she felt only marginally better. But that was a start. It would take more than one class to shake off all the tension she'd accumulated.

  In the dressing room she freshened up. She didn't want to arrive home too early so she'd go to Magnolias and buy a newspaper to read. Generally she sat inside Urns & Leaves with a book and an herbal concoction of teas so Magnolias would make for a nice change.

  Heaven only knew what was whispered back and forth as she sat by herself every night. When she finally had a place of her own she wouldn't have to linger. She wouldn't feel the weight of Ethan's dislike every time she walked in the door and she'd be able to get eight full hours of sleep again. With time and distance she'd be able to move on. Her life would be a lot less complicated and a lot less painful. With time.

  The cold was biting when she left the building but she'd worn a jacket tonight. She wasn't likely to leave the house again without one. She stuffed her hands into the pockets, rounded the building, and made her way through the courtyard, listening to the voices and quiet laughter of the women in front of her. But nothing could have prepared her for the sight just beyond the gate, and nothing could have prevented her reaction.

  Like a morbid replay of the night she wanted to wipe out of existence, Simon stood in the shadow of the trees, his tall frame outlined by the colorful floodlights in the shrubbery, his broad shoulders made that much broader by the overcoat he wore. And much as he had before, he watched her approach.

  Gasping, she came to a halt, as did the various conversations that moments before had provided a sense of normalcy. Five women had exited the building at the same time she had, but it registered that each of them had suddenly found a reason to pause and linger. Even the lone girl up ahead found an excuse to rummage inside her purse . . . looking around for some imaginary object?

  It may not have been the quickest save, but Nina did catch herself. She summoned up the best smile she could and continued on.

  "Excuse me," she said, brushing past the girl with the purse. Then she pressed her palm to the biometric scanner and walked through the gate.

  "This is a surprise," she said, trying for an optimistic tone that anyone listening would hear.

  "How was your class?"

  "Good. But I'll probably be stiff tomorrow."

  He said nothing, then nodded toward the path. "Where are you parked? I'll walk you to your car."

  "Checkpoint 2," she told him and started forward. "But I was going to have something to drink first. At Magnolias."

  "All right."

  He walked beside her and she wondered why he was there. It couldn't be that he was still interested in her. Not after everything she'd done. Still, it was nearly eleven o'clock. He wouldn't have been working at this hour.

  "I'm going to tell you up front that I planned this," he said quietly. "We're being followed, and I want to use our audience to subdue some of the gossip."

  She looked up. "What do you have in mind?"

  His eyes connected with hers and it surprised her to see no trace of anger or bitterness. Their dark depths were alert and attentive, and intent on whatever plan he'd devised.

  "It helps that you're stopping at Magnolias," he said. "I'd like to join you if that's all right."

  "That's fine," she said without hesitation, pitifully happy to do something helpful for a change.

  "And since we've got so many eyes on us, I'd like to put my arm around you while we walk.

  She hesitated this time, trying to decide how to answer, trying to make sense of her fluttering heart. Was there more to his presence here tonight than toning down the gossip? Was he still hoping she'd accept the blue icon sitting in her account?

  He walked along beside her, waiting for an answer. He didn't press her, made no move to touch her without her consent, and something inside her softened. As cautious as she was, as reluctant as she was, her feelings for Simon were complicated.

  "All right," she told him quietly.

  He stepped in closer, his hand sliding across the small of her back, and she felt his masculine contact everywhere. His warm fingers slid beneath her short-waisted jacket, closing around her hipbone, and she tensed with self-preservation. It was no struggle to remember how he'd touched her before. With the slightest pressure of his fingers he seemed to know how to make her tingle with anticipation.

  Pleasure points, she realized. It had to be his knowledge of pleasure points. He'd be an expert by now. Was she so lonely that his touch might override her wariness? She was cut off from her family, and the man with whom she shared a house wanted nothing to do with her. She couldn't even talk to Lydia—not about RUSH, not about Simon, and not about Ethan. Libby was her only confidante and the feeling of isolation was sometimes stifling. She was hungry for affection and human connection, and hidden beneath Simon's bulldozer tactics she'd once discovered a caring and thoughtful man. He was protective and in his arms she'd learned the difference between the kisses of a boy and the passion of a man.

  What was wrong with her? Why was she drawn to arrogant overbearing men? First Simon, then Ethan. It couldn't be mere coincidence. Twice in a row seemed more like a pattern.

  "Does Ethan talk to you about RUSH?" Simon asked as they turned toward the food court.

  "No," she said. "Not unless something specific comes up in conversation."

  "We've doubled our number of female employees now that the mall is open. Have you noticed the difference in ratio of men to women?"

  "It's hard not to."

  The hand covering her hip gave a gentle squeeze and she looked up, then quickly away when she saw the warmth in his eyes. How could he look at her like that after what she'd done?

  "Unfortunately," he said, "statistics show that most female clients don't activate their files and apply for a link until after they've been here a month or so. Sometimes longer than that."

  He guided her through the doors and into Magnolias where a hostess stood ready to seat them. Conscious of his arm holding her close to his side, Nina unfastened her jacket and began to remove it, dislodging his hand.

  "What puzzles me," Simon continued once they'd been seated, "are the women who were here before the mall was built—eighteen percent who have never activated their memberships."

  "Is that a lot?"

  "It is. But that's not the point. The question is, why would all those women choose to work here if they didn't plan to take advantage of the system? Why subject themselves to eight rigorous hours applying for something they never intended to use?"

  "Maybe they needed the income."

  Simon stared at her. Then he chuckled. "You might be right. It could be that simple."

  Taking too much pleasure from the look in his eyes, from the easy comfort of their exchange, she forced herself to look away. An unhurried glance around the dining room passed over three women seated at a table not far away. Two of the three she recognized from tai chi class but they appeared to be minding their own business, involved in their own conversation. They may have had a perfectly innocent reason for coming to Magnolias, but they had an unobstructed view of her table and she told herself to bear that in mind.

  "Nina?"

  She brought her attention back to Simon.

  "Why did you join RUSH?"

  The question surprised her. "You've asked me that before."

  "I know. But I'm asking again." He paused, then explained, "It never occurred to us that a woman with no sexual experience would apply for membership so it wasn't something we tracked. Then you came to our atten
tion and surprised all of us. We decided to tag that response for future stat reports and when I pulled up the numbers . . . ." He shook his head. "Imagine my surprise when I discovered you weren't the only one."

  "Really?" She stared at him.

  "There aren't many, but the fact that there are any at all baffles the hell out of us."

  So she wasn't the only white elephant.

  Feeling suddenly more cheerful than she had for a while, she flashed him a smile. "And you think I have the answers?"

  His eyes crinkled at the corners. "One of them at least."

  One of them. He was asking her to confide in him.

  The appearance of their server bearing an ornate silver tray with their order gave her a minute to consider how to answer. Unlike the first day she met Simon, when her emotions were acutely sensitive and his questions felt like a personal invasion, she wasn't offended tonight. And since she was no longer an R-link, she didn't have to pretend to want sex with a different man every day, three days of every week.

  "How much of my application have you read?"

  "Your application?"

  "Yes. Didn't you get a copy of it when you accepted the blue icon? Isn't that how you found out . . . about me?"

  "No. That's not how it works. Only Dr. Zeman gets a copy. And under certain circumstances, Security can access it."

  "But you knew things. Personal things."

  His mouth twisted. "The only data I received was the usual information pertinent to a link of any color. Half a page."

  "That's all?"

  "That's all. And trying to get answers from you has been . . . . Let's just say it's been challenging."

  She stared at him. "All this time I thought you knew everything. It was mortifying. There were times when I wanted to log onto my account and click on the blue plus button just to balance the scales."

  Eyes locked on hers, absolutely focused, he said, "I wish you had." His voice was quiet, his expression sober, and the evidence of his words was laid bare for her to see. "I still wish you would," he added.

  Her heart flip-flopped in wild confusion, drawn by the quiet simplicity of the moment, and she began to accept that this was no game generated by RUSH's computer program. He'd told her before, numerous times and in numerous ways that blue indicated the possibility of a future together. Was she willing to take another chance after everything they'd been through?

 

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