NINE
Intimate wasn’t the word that came to mind when Simone awakened early the next morning. It would have been too weak a word. Nick was still there, which stunned her, but that wasn’t even the most shocking part. He was asleep on her sofa, his big, muscular body lying prone on his back, and she was stretched out on top of him. And buried in his big, warm, strong arms, as if she was born to be there.
At first she was startled by such closeness, as if his hold on her was too peculiar for her to even fathom. But then she thought about that hold, and how comforting it felt, and how she’d never experienced such warmth before in her life, and she couldn’t move; couldn’t protest; couldn’t do anything but relax again and remain where she was. She remembered a lot of emotion the night before, a lot of sobbing, and she also remembered how determinedly Nick pulled her into his arms and refused to let her fall apart. He held her for hours - she remembered that, too, until she had apparently fallen asleep. She never dreamed he’d still be with her the next morning, still holding her, and holding her in a way so indescribably close, so intimate, that it made her flesh burn.
But then she thought about the reason why he came to see her last night in the first place, how he wanted to make sure that she was okay after yet another court denial, and her rising elation was quickly tempered. This man didn’t stay all night with her because he couldn’t bear to be without her. This was no move of passion on his part. He was just too decent a human being to leave an out-of-control, sobbing female all alone. She lifted her head from his chest and looked at him as he slept, as his long lashes laid in still perfection around the round shape of his closed eyes. His hair was a full shag of rich brown silk that was now splayed over his forehead making him look younger. And just looking at him, a man who could have any female he desired to have, a man who happened to be a good guy on top of being good looking, kept her excitement muted. Somebody like him would only want somebody like her as a plaything, if at all, and she’d do well to never forget that. Her days of keeping her head buried in the sand, of believing in happy endings, was gone. That news yesterday, when the courts wouldn’t even consider a petition filed by a man with a reputation like Nick Perry, forced them to leave. And forced her to stop all of that thinking about a man like Nick as a potential for a woman like her, and get a move on.
But he wouldn’t relinquish his grip when she tried. He, in fact, tightened his hold on her. She looked up at him, certain that a sleeping man could not possibly have this strong a grip, and that was when his eyes, his big, bright, beautiful blue eyes, flew open. And he smiled. The most alluring, half-cocked smile she’d ever seen. Her heart pounded.
His heart pounded too, when he saw her gorgeous face. “Good morning,” he said.
“Good morning? Is that all you can say? You fooled me.”
“I certainly tried to.”
“No you didn’t admit it like that!”
“Admit what?”
“You made me think your behind was asleep when you was probably wide awake all along. That is so not cool, Nick Perry.”
“Who said I was cool? I never said I was cool.”
Simone thought about that one. If he wasn’t cool, she thought, then she didn’t know who could be. “I said you were,” she said. “How about that?”
Nick studied her, and just seeing her again, and being so close to her like this, caused all kinds of emotions to war within him. “And you’re an expert on cool, are you?” he said to her.
“Let me put it this way: I know it when I see it.”
He laughed. “You and Justice Steward. I’m impressed.”
Simone didn’t quite know what the reference to Justice Steward meant, whomever he was, and why being mentioned with him was impressive, but she let it slide. What she couldn’t let slide, however, was that almost death grip he seemed to want to keep on her. “I’ve got to get up,” she said.
He hesitated. The last thing he needed was to be holding onto her, and he knew it all too well. But he couldn’t seem to let her go. He ran his hand through her thick, wavy, unruly hair, a move that he could feel caused her body to tense. “So soon?” he said, staring at her.
“Soon?” she said nervously. “That’s easy for you to say Mister Own-His-Own-Company and don’t have to report to anybody. But as for me, hey. I’ve got to get up and get going.”
“And I was just beginning to enjoy this.”
“Yeah, right.”
“You doubt me? That hurts, Simone.”
Simone smiled. They were behaving as if they were so familiar with one another, which wasn’t true at all. “But for real, Nick, come on,” she said, patting him on his broad chest, attempting to squeeze out of his massive embrace. “I need to pea.”
When she said this Nick, at first, didn’t quite know how to take such bluntness. Then he leaned his head back and laughed, pulling her closer to him as he did. “You’re one of a kind, Simone, you know that?”
Simone smiled, too. Nobody had ever said that about her before, at least not in any positive way. “No, I didn’t know that,” she said, feeling flirtatious, too. Nick, picking up on this, looked at her, his smile suddenly turning serious. Given her background, she probably didn’t know it, he thought. “Well, let me be the first to tell you,” he said. “You are.”
There was a moment, a fleeting but definite moment, when Simone saw all kinds of possibilities in Nick’s expressive eyes. Those eyes saw something in her, something special, something maybe even desirable, and she wanted so desperately to latch onto every second of that moment. She’d never even wanted to get remotely close to any other man before in all of her life, never had any interest whatsoever in trying to please them or get on their good side or do anything except stay out of their way and they stay out of hers. But this was different. He was different. She’d be beside herself with excitement, with unspeakable joy, if Nick Perry so much as suggested, so much as hinted, that he might feel the same way, too.
But he wasn’t about to suggest it or hint at it or do anything remotely like that. She could tell by the way that moment passed and that look in his eyes changed. And suddenly it wasn’t a look of desire anymore, but almost a look of alarm. As if he had glimpsed Simone’s private, innermost thoughts and were horrified by them. Which nearly undid her. Especially when he suddenly, almost too quickly, released his hold on her and seemed anxious to get her off of him.
She got up and excused herself to the bathroom, feeling ashamed, but determined to not let him see it.
Nick could sense her embarrassment, however, as he sat up on the sofa, his feet stepping down onto a dark-paneled hardwood floor, and he pulled out his gold cigarette case. He saw the hopefulness in her eyes when his flirtatiousness went too far. He felt the excitement, the joy, the unhinged desire all over her small, shapely body. A desire that almost matched his. But it couldn’t be. He needed this woman in his life like he needed a stroke, and for the life of him he couldn’t understand why he kept leading her on, drawing her in. Showed up here at all. He pulled out a cigarette and tossed his case onto the small coffee table in front of him. And he lit up. He had too much going on in his life to even think about getting it on with Simone.
There was Delia to think about, for starters. There was always Delia. She always talked a good talk about open relationships and how she never wanted him questioning what she was doing and with whom she might be doing it with, and vice versa, as if their fourteen years together didn’t entitle him to squat. But he knew her. She didn’t mind his occasional indiscretions, his quiet little meaningless one-night-stands. But any fool could see that Simone Rivers was nobody’s one-night-stand, not that sweet, kind girl. And Delia, far from foolish, would see it as soon as she laid eyes on her. Because she knew, like he knew, that Simone played for keeps, and any man with her had to roll that way, too. And all of her open relationship verbosity would mean what it had always meant: yeah, but not with a real catch. She’d be devastated if she knew that he was in a full-blown af
fair with somebody like Simone. Devastated. And he wasn’t about to let that happen. He wasn’t about to hurt Delia ever.
“I’ll put on some coffee,” he heard Simone say as she came out of the bathroom and headed for her kitchen. He leaned forward and took a slow drag on his cigarette. Because there was Simone to think about, too. Sweet, devoted, generous-to-a-fault Simone. Looked out for everybody but herself. Including her ungrateful gorgeous sister; including her absent baby sister. But who was looking out for her? Who was bragging on her and writing petitions on her behalf? Where was her knight? He exhaled and looked at his smoke, and then he snuffed the whole thing out.
He went into the bathroom and, after relieving himself, washed his hands and threw water on his face. He stared into the mirror above the sink. He looked beaten, like a boxer who got in way over his head but now had no choice but to stay in that ring and take it. Why did he stay here all night? Why didn’t he take his exhausted behind home after he saw that she was going to be all right? Simone was no weakling. She could take care of herself. She didn’t need him over here holding her hand - not to mention her entire body - all night.
But there he was - Mister Knight-In-Shining-Armor coming to the rescue of the damsel in distress. When his own damsel was in distress - had, in fact, all but begged him to spend last night with her. But he couldn’t stop thinking about Simone - and how defeated she looked. He had to see her and, if he would be honest with himself for two seconds, had to feel her - to hold her. He grabbed a towel from the rack- a towel that smelled of lilacs, and covered his face with it. Ever since he first saw Simone, standing in the middle of that lobby, he knew that she was somehow a part of him, as if he was destined to know her and care about her. It was the oddest feeling he’d ever had for another human being, but he knew it was there. He also knew, however, when he left his office yesterday evening and headed - not to Delia’s, but here, to Simone, that it would be a long way back.
He left the bathroom and went into the kitchen. Simone, as he had expected, had pulled out eggs and bacon and was prepping the toaster, ready to prepare him a big, mouth-watering breakfast that would make him want to come back every morning just to sample her skills. He had never in his adult life spent the night with a woman who did not attempt to feed him breakfast. Except for Delia, of course, who viewed cooking as strictly for the modest. Plain Jane’s playground, as she often referred to it. When he and Del both were young he found it amusing, since he wasn’t into home-cooked meals, either. But now he found it sad.
Especially when he looked at Simone. She was so happy, as she cracked eggs into a bowl, as she pulled out red peppers, green peppers, onions and chives; as she couldn’t seem to wipe that dazzling smile off of her face. That young lady was head-over-heels already. All because he showed her a level of kindness she knew no casual acquaintance would show unless, of course, he wanted more from her than anything remotely casual.
But did he want more? Was this just a lust thing for him? A variation on that same theme he’d played on more women than he’d ever have the guts to admit? Simone was special, no doubt about it, but was it her specialness that he was so drawn to - or, as was usually the case, her curves?
He leaned against the doorjamb of the kitchen’s entranceway and watched those curves. She certainly had more riding around with her than Delia ever had - and all in perfect positioning, too. But so did a number of other women he could name - some right in his law firm whom he’d tried out over the years, women who wouldn’t dream of having any foolish illusions about a future with him. Delia was his lady and they all knew it. It had always been that way. But what was it about Simone?
“Oh!” she said when she realized he was standing there, unable to stop that smiling. “I didn’t see you standing there.”
“Maybe I didn’t want to be seen.”
“The invisible man.”
“Something like that.”
“Come on and sit down. I’m just making breakfast. Omelets.”
It was tempting. Just to see her majestic, guileless face a little longer made it incredibly tempting. But he knew he needed to end this little charade right now, before he really hurt her. “Can’t stay for breakfast, Simone,” he said, standing erect again, “I’m already behind schedule as it is. Sorry.”
The look of disappointment that suddenly crossed her face was painful for him to watch, so he quickly looked away.
“Not even for toast and coffee?”
“No, sorry,” he said as he began moving, heading for the living room, knowing that he’d kick his own behind if he used the word ‘sorry’ again.
“I thought you’d want something to eat,” she said, following him, wondering why was she pressing so hard. “Neither one of us had dinner last night. You’ll make me seem like a really ungrateful host if you just left.”
“Not at all,” he said, grabbing the suit coat that he had taken off, at some point, last night. “Just that I’m—”
“I know. You’re a busy man.”
“I’ve got to be in court later this morning. I need to do some prep work.” His first lie to her - he had assistants to do his prep work, a boatload of them. But it would be only one lie of many lies he would undoubtedly tell her, if he didn’t end it now.
He grabbed his cigarette case from the table and placed it inside the pocket of his suit coat, a coat he could tell Simone admired by the way she stared at the Italian silk fabric. He looked down, at the shorts and well-worn halter top that she had on, clothes barely a step below what she normally wore. He suddenly had an urge to give her money to buy some clothes, and to move her out of this box of an apartment she was living in. And make her his - what? Wife? Impossible. Whore, more like it. Which, for him anyway, wasn’t about to happen, either. He headed for the door.
“Maybe I could cook you dinner sometime,” Simone said quickly, too desperately. Nick looked back. “If you have a . . . free night sometime,” she added, more slowly, uncertainly. Nick stopped right then and there, took Simone by the arm, and escorted her to the sofa.
“What’s the matter?” she asked.
“Sit down, Simone.”
“What’s wrong?” she asked as she sat down. He sat down, too, on the low table in front of the sofa, and took both her hands in his. He could see the sudden joy that sparkled her eyes.
“I think we need to get a few things straight,” he said and her sparkle immediately left. He was crestfallen. Already he was responsible for snuffing out her light. He hated hurting her, but now was better than later. “You’re a wonderful person.”
Simone frowned and tried to pull her hands away, but he wouldn’t let her. “You don’t have to go there,” she said.
“Listen to me. You’re a wonderful person. Your devotion to your sister, to both your sisters, is very noble - even if you don’t think so.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I don’t have to do what?”
“Patronize me. Act like I’m some clueless female who don’t get it. I got it, all right? You don’t wanna have breakfast, lunch, or dinner with me now or ever. You just came over here last night out of some vague sense of decency and my crying behind kept you here, again out of that sense of decency of yours, or responsibility, or whatever it was. But it wasn’t about me. I got it. Trust me on that. I’ve got a lifetime of experience on knowing that it’s never about me.”
Nick stared into her sad, expressive eyes. She didn’t get a thing. “That’s not what I’m talking about, Simone. I’m not trying to leave you, or run away from you. I doubt if I could even if I wanted to.” He tried to smile and she stared at him now, as he seemed hesitant all of a sudden. And he was, not because of what he’d just said, but of what he was about to say. He was about to come clean. If she still wanted a relationship with him, he thought, as the feel of her small, soft hands warmed his, then they’d have one. But she would have to fully understand the parameters up front, of what their relationship would be and, more importantly, would not be
.
“When I first met you, in the lobby at my firm, there was something about you, something very special.” He smiled as if it was a very fond memory. Simone smiled, too, and relaxed her hands in his. Which wasn’t quite what he was after. He wasn’t trying to seduce the woman. He gently removed his hands out of hers and placed them between his knees. “But I also knew right away,” he went on, “that you were what my father used to call a boatload of trouble.”
Simone’s smile faded, which was exactly what he was going for. “Trouble? Me?”
“Oh, yeah. Big time.”
“How am I trouble? You mean because I have a record? Because I’m not some uptown—”
“Because you’re demanding, Simone. Exacting. Will not settle for anything less than your man’s complete and undivided attention. Which isn’t a fault.”
“But it’s trouble?” Simone sounded hurt, which hurt him.
Nick exhaled. “It requires more than I’m able to give right now.” Or ever, he should have added, but couldn’t.
“I see,” Simone said, nodding. “That’s why you didn’t call me after my birthday when I thought we had made a connection?”
“That’s exactly why I didn’t call. I wanted to a hundred times, believe me I did, but I knew it wouldn’t be fair to you. Not the kind of relationship I had in mind.”
“You mean a relationship without any kind of commitment?”
He exhaled, but nodded. “Yes.”
“So what you’re saying is that I have to pay for what somebody else did?”
Nick looked at her. The notes were all in tune, they were in total sync. Until now. “Somebody else?”
“But it’s always that way, Nick, don’t you see that? Somebody else breaks your heart, somebody else does the damage, but the next girl has to suffer for it. That’s always it.”
That wasn’t it at all, Nick wanted to say. But when she added, “at least that’s what I’ve been told,” as if her inexperience rendered her at the mercy of other people’s testimonies, he couldn’t say a thing. He would lose her if he told her the truth, if he so much as mentioned that it wasn’t a past girlfriend that had him cautious now, but Delia. A very present girlfriend. An innocent like Simone wouldn’t be his lover, his “casual” affair. Not Simone. And, to his shock, he wasn’t going to let her be. He wasn’t going to try to cheapen her that way. But he couldn’t lose her, either. Not yet.
Some Came Desperate Page 10