She nodded, and I clenched my fingers against the edge of the desk to keep from taking her in my arms. I wanted to kiss her, hold her, and tell her everything was okay, and that I wanted her to pack her bags this instant, come stay with me and we’d work out the no-hugging thing later. That I had never wanted anything so much in my life.
But there were the cameras. I didn’t doubt my father would be watching us like a hawk, ready to pounce the second he sensed I was defying him. And I needed some time first.
“Hey,” I whispered. “Look at me. This changes nothing. Let’s just take a bit and get used to the idea, okay?”
Her eyes scanned my face, desperately seeking an explanation. “Okay.” She picked up some files on her desk. “Will I see you later?”
I walked to the door and turned to face her. “Of course you will.” I left and headed back to my office, my head racing with thoughts of the decisions I’d made in the last ten minutes. The things I knew needed to be done over the next few days as a result of those decisions.
I only hoped that in the end, it would be worth it.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Reagan
I stared at the empty doorway after Nathan left, anxiety taking root in the pit of my stomach. He hadn’t even kissed me before he’d left. Something was wrong.
His asking me to move in last night had been real. There had been an intimacy, a closeness, while lying in the dark, that I’d not felt with him before. His words had been honest and sincere. Why hadn’t I spoken up? I had been completely thrown off guard, had just laid there with my mouth hanging open, and I was afraid he’d taken my silence as an answer. That I didn’t want to take the next step with him. Which was completely ridiculous. I did. There was a lot to think about, but I most certainly did.
Or, maybe I was imagining the sincerity of the situation, and he’d asked in a state of post coital bliss. People said things they didn’t mean after sex all the time. And maybe now he was trying to find a way out of it. It was the one thing about us that made sense. Isn’t that what I had come to expect?
Something was definitely wrong.
My anxiety increased when Nathan cancelled our lunch plans, claiming he had a meeting that was running over. I told myself this was perfectly normal, and not something I should misconstrue as a neon sign he was tiring of me. I told myself that, but it didn’t help. Not after the distance between us this morning. He was still planning to come over tonight, so there was still that, although the idea didn’t bring much comfort as I muddled mindlessly through the rest of my day. Maybe he was just coming over to end it officially.
Were we official? We were apparently exclusive, but outside of Brooke, I wasn’t sure that anyone else really knew about me and Nathan. Could we be official if no one knew about us? Could something be officially ended, if it never really started—officially?
I shook my head at my thoughts. This was getting me nowhere. He was still coming over tonight, and whatever happened, would happen.
Don’t borrow trouble. Isn’t that what Helen always said?
“You’re coming Sunday, right?”
I looked up and saw Bailey coming toward me. I had no idea what he was referring to. He fell into step beside me as we entered the elevator. “Uhmmm—“
“Don’t even tell me you’re not. It’s my birthday, and James is throwing me a surprise party.”
Oh, right. He’d mentioned it last week and I’d completely forgot. “How is it you know about it if it’s supposed to be a surprise?”
Bailey shrugged. “Because James is terrible at these things. But he’s so adorable thinking he’s pulling one over on me, and so I pretend.” We headed out into the lobby. “I won’t take no for an answer,” he warned.
I promised I would be there, and stepped to the curb to hail a cab. Four hours. In just four hours, Nathan would be coming over and I had much to do before then.
I stood in the living room, staring out the window overlooking the street below. Cars, lights, people. . .they all streamed by in a blur of activity below me, but I barely registered any of them.
I had called Gabby on my way home from the office and, without divulging much detail, explained I was expecting a guest and needed some privacy. She was apparently an expert at reading between the lines, because Brooke had left minutes ago for a girl’s night out. I probably should have felt guilty for underhandedly kicking Brooke out of her own apartment, but I didn’t. If I was going to get dumped, as it were, I certainly didn’t want an audience.
The buzzer sounded, alerting me to Nathan’s arrival, and my heart skipped a beat. I wiped my hands on the black maxi dress I was wearing, and heaved a deep breath. Keep cool, Reagan. He’s here because he wants to be. Nothing has changed. He told you that, so believe him. . . until he gives you a reason not to.
I buzzed open the door and minutes later, there he was.
His eyes were bright as he stared at me, a takeout bag in one hand, the other in the pocket of his faded jeans. He’d brought dinner, just like he always did.
Nothing has changed.
I stepped aside and let him in and then shut the door behind us. He placed the bag on the counter and turned to me. The brightness in his eyes had magnified, his pupils dilated, and I listened to his deep breaths in the silence of the kitchen. I recognized the signs and my stomach clenched in anticipation, all anxiety momentarily dissipated.
He struck swiftly, reaching out and lifting me up off the ground. My maxi dress bunched around my thighs as my legs wrapped tightly around his waist. He began walking back toward the door, carrying me with him. “Where’s Brooke?”
I gasped as we slammed back against the door, closing my eyes and digging my heels into his back. “Out,” I whispered, desire filling every capillary in my body, leaving me feeling light-headed.
He growled against my neck, and I whimpered as I felt his long fingers effortlessly rip my flimsy panties and brush my soaked clit. He fumbled with his zipper, and seconds later I screamed as he thrust into me, the hard wooden door pressing against my back.
“Nathan,” I panted, desire burning to a feverish pitch. “Nathan. . . .I can’t. . .ohmygod. . .”
He grunted in response, the door rattling behind me in echo of his every thrust. I sank my teeth into his t-shirt clad shoulder, as his movements increased pace and I felt myself ready to explode. “Fuck yeah,” he whispered, and I shattered against him. He halted, and lifted his head to meet my eyes. He wiped sweaty strands of hair from my face and, still fully inside me, turned and carried me over to the couch. He sat down, and I was now straddling his lap.
He leaned his head back against the cushions, staring up at me through his heavy lashes. I brought my knees up beside his thighs and lifted myself up, and then back down. He clutched my waist as I settled into a rhythm. I pulled his mouth to mine as I moved faster, taking in every inch of his length. I watched his face as he came, saw the tiny beads of sweat along his temples, the way he clenched his jaw and his eyes fluttered closed. There was a sense of desperation in the frantic way he held me close, whispering my name over and over.
Nothing has changed.
Please don’t let this be good-bye.
“You awake?”
I opened my eyes. We were now on the floor, naked beneath a blanket, empty Chinese containers on the coffee table next to us. It was completely dark, and I realized I had dozed off. I checked my phone. Brooke would probably be coming home anytime.
I yawned. “I am now,” I mumbled.
Nathan bent his arms behind his head, and stared up at the ceiling. “I need to tell you something.”
My brow furrowed as I watched him in the dim light. “Okay.”
“Did I ever tell you that Thomas wanted out of Elite? He did.”
I said nothing, knowing this was not what he wanted to tell me. He was leading somewhere, and I shivered slightly as I braced myself for whatever it was.
“He wanted out,” he continued. “He didn’t want to spend the re
st of his life playing politics with corporate suits and under the thumb of our father. He had other ideas, other dreams. He never got to see them, though.” His voice hardened and I knew he was thinking of his brother’s death.
I moved closer and placed my hand on his chest. “I’m sorry.”
He rolled over to his side, taking my hand. “Anyway, I just wanted. . .what I was going to tell you, was that something has come up with work. I need to leave for a bit.”
The odd distance was back in his tone, and I frowned. What did this have to do with Thomas and his dreams? “How long is ‘a bit’?” I questioned, nervousness making my mouth dry and my tongue thick.
“I’m not exactly sure, but I’m hoping no more than a week, at most.”
I sat up, pulling the blanket up around my shoulders. “A week? Where are you going?” I could no longer hide the slight tremor in my voice. The uneasiness I had felt earlier had returned with a vengeance. Nathan traveled back and forth to Boston for work often, but this was different. Had he simply been going to Boston as usual, he would have said so.
“I have to make a few stops, actually.” His answer was vague, and didn’t tell me what I wanted to know.
I pulled the blanket tighter. “When do you have to leave?”
“Tomorrow,” he sighed, as he sat up until we were shoulder to shoulder. “Believe me when I say I do not want to go.”
“Then don’t. Can you get someone else to take care of whatever it is?” Please don’t leave.
“I wish.” He brought his knees up and rested his arms on them. I stared at his sculpted muscles, tattoos weaving their way across his biceps. “I’ll be back before you know it.” He leaned into me, and rested his head on mine. “Miss me while I’m gone?”
He was leaving, and while he was doing his best to pretend this was just like any other work trip, it wasn’t. Something was going on, something big, that he was intentionally keeping from me. I knew it with the same certainty I’d had when I’d opened my mother’s door all those years ago to find her lifeless body. I already felt him slipping away, and my body filled with cold dread. What wasn’t he telling me?
I traced a line of black ink on his arm with my finger. “Yes, I will.” I locked my hands around his bicep and squeezed. “And you?”
He leaned back, and pulled me with him, settling me on top of him. “Baby, you have no idea.”
“Reagan, Mr. Preston would like a word.”
I had no chance to respond, and even as my heart leapt at the thought Nathan had returned, it immediately shuddered to a halt as Roger Preston barreled his way past Bailey and strode purposefully into my office.
“That will be all, Mr. Cooper. Thank you.”
I stared up at Nathan’s father, and felt a tingling at the back of my neck. His presence was formidable, and I felt small sitting at my desk while he hovered over me. I stood and cleared my throat. “Mr. Preston, what can I—“
“The J & J account. Are we all settled there?”
We were, and this man knew it. He didn’t strike me as someone who remained clueless about the status of Elite’s current projects. He was here for another reason. He continued to stare at me from eyes that were so much like his son’s, and I couldn’t dismiss the feeling that he was sizing me up. “Of course, Mr. Preston.”
“And you, Miss Andrews. Are you settling in here as well?”
The tingling increased and cold sweat sprinkled my spine. “I. . .yes, I am. Thank you.”
What did he want?
He tilted his head slightly—again, so much like his son—and smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes and was obviously forced. Outside of less than a handful of meetings, I had had no cause for one on one contact with this man, and I had no idea why he was seeking me out now. “Excellent.” He strolled over to a small bookcase that held a framed photograph of me and Helen. He picked it up and looked at it for a few seconds, set it down and then turned back to me. “Have you spoken to my son, Nathanial?”
There it was. This was what he was after; the rest was just small talk. I hadn’t heard from Nathan since he’d left my apartment sometime in the night Tuesday, and yet I failed to see why this mattered to his father. Had something happened? I heard the familiar buzz in my ears and willed myself to remain calm. “I believe your son is out of town, sir,” I replied cautiously.
Roger Preston smirked. “Of course he is, but you didn’t answer my question.”
Deep breaths, that’s it. Just calm down. I reached a hand up to smooth back my hair and saw it was shaking. Refusing to give this man the satisfaction of knowing he had me terrified, I crossed my arms across my chest. “I have not heard from him in three days.” I’ve tried, but your son hasn’t bothered to respond to any of my texts or voicemails, I didn’t add.
He nodded, apparently satisfied. “Well, then. I’ll leave you to your work.”
“Excuse me, Mr. Preston,” I called after him as he walked toward the door. “Have I done something wrong?”
“Why would you think that, Miss. Andrews? Is there something you aren’t telling me?”
NO! I wanted to scream. There’s something YOU aren’t telling ME! “No, sir. There isn’t.”
Again, that half-ass smile. “Then I’m sure you have nothing to worry about. Have a good day, Miss Andrews.”
I stared after him, having no clue what had just transpired. Roger Preston’s visit, and his questions, left me uneasy. Tears burned at my eyes and I angrily wiped them away. Whatever was going on with Nathan and his father, I was being put in the middle and it was a place I had no desire to be. I didn’t even know where Nathan was, or exactly how long he would be gone. Was he even coming back, and would he even still want me when he returned? I knew nothing because he was telling me nothing. I was being kept in the dark, and the one person who should be putting my mind at ease was MIA.
I picked up my phone and dialed his number. Straight to voicemail, just as it had done all the other times I’d called in the last three days. I stabbed the end call button and threw my phone across my desk, new tears welling up fresh in my eyes.
Where are you?
Nathan
It had been just over four days since I’d seen Reagan or heard her voice. Roughly one hundred and ten hours, and it felt an eternity. It had taken every ounce of strength I still possessed to not respond to any of her calls or texts. There were things I had needed to do, and I needed no distractions. And I would give my father no reason to think his demands were being ignored.
Keeping her out of this, blissfully unaware and unharmed, had been my greatest concern, and yet I knew that my actions were doing the very thing I had wanted to shield her from. My distance had to be confusing her, but I had had to put into play the actions necessary to satisfy the decisions that had been made. Almost everything was in place, and the time for explanations was near. I only hoped I wasn’t too late and the damage to our fragile relationship wasn’t already done.
Tyler Winston had been easy. A few calls to my personal attorney, a stopover in Vegas to meet with Winston’s board, and as expected, he came to me at my hotel, restraining order be damned. He’d already dropped his cancerous lawsuit, courtesy of my father’s skills of persuasion, and the hotel was back on track. So what was I doing? But this had become personal. He’d gone after Reagan out of jealous spite, and I couldn’t allow that. His threats and protests were futile; I now held the largest controlling interest in Winston Suites. And just in case he wanted to press it further, I also held information proving his affair with a prominent city official’s wife, which judging from the pictures, relied heavily on S&M and huge amounts of blow. Pictures I was sure neither of them wanted made public. The color had drained from Winston’s face and he’d gone quietly. He would remain the face of Winston Suites, but would have no say in any of the decisions regarding it.
The other stops I’d made and things put into place were still in motion, and I wished not for the first time that they were done. My father was being
notified and I knew there would be hell to pay once he realized what I had done. But I was done worrying about or appeasing my father.
I landed back in Manhattan and took a cab to Reagan’s apartment. I had to see her; it had been entirely too long. Neither she nor Brooke answered when I pressed the buzzer, and I cursed as I dug out my cell. She didn’t answer. I fired off a quick text and hailed another cab back to my apartment.
I showered, and changed, and paced through my apartment like a caged animal. I had no idea where she was, and the need to see her, to explain away the past few days and make it right again with us, was overwhelming. It was so great, in fact, that when I finally received a response from George letting me know that a party was being thrown in Mr. Cooper’s honor downtown, and perhaps Ms. Andrews was there, I almost wept in relief.
I drove like a maniac to the location George had texted me, and after a substantial tip to the bouncer at the door, I was allowed in. Brightly colored strobes swirled in balls of light across the walls, ceiling and dance floor, where masses of bodies gyrated in rhythm to the music that was so loud I swore I could feel it pulsating in my chest.
Or maybe that was just my own rapidly beating heart.
I scanned the crowd, but there was no sign of her. It was difficult to see anything in here. I moved further into the club, and found an empty spot along the wall, just off the main dance floor. Figuring it would be as good a spot as any, I settled in, my eyes continuously searching for the only reason I was here.
I wasn’t leaving until I’d seen her.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Reagan
“I have to get something to drink. I’m dying!” I lifted my heavy hair away from my neck, cursing whatever fashion god had convinced me leaving it down tonight had been a good idea. Brooke waved at me in response and continued her bump and grind against the blonde she’d zeroed in on the minute we’d hit the dance floor. He wasn’t complaining, and as he bit his bottom lip before reaching for her waist, I figured it was a good chance Brooke would be spending the night out.
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