by Carol Caiton
"I'm not afraid of anything. Not here at RUSH."
"Then why do you act like the bogyman's after you?"
"I— You're awfully observant, you know that?"
"Yep. Smart, too. My IQ's off the charts."
"Really?"
"Yes, really."
"Wow. I feel . . . intimidated."
"Yeah, right. Now stop stalling."
Nina surrendered. "It's Simon. He has a tendency to show up whenever I'm here."
"That's a bad thing?"
"Sometimes."
"Why?"
"It's complicated."
"Everything interesting is. So why doesn't he just wait for you to come home? I thought he and Ethan lived in the same neighborhood."
"Three houses away from each other. But . . . they haven't been getting along lately."
"How so?"
Nina lowered her voice. "Ethan was half a second from throwing a punch at Simon yesterday, right on the path outside Checkpoint 1."
Libby put her fork down. "Geez, Nina, what's going on?"
Nina drew in a breath. "They never hashed it out over beer, Lib. I don't think they even talk anymore."
Libby opened her mouth, paused, then said, "This is bad. Okay. Let's backtrack for a minute. Tell me why you think Ethan paid your sister's medical bills. Are you sure it wasn't Simon?"
"Actually, I'm not sure it wasn't Simon. In fact, it makes better sense that it would be."
"Well then?"
Nina looked down at her plate, surprised to find she'd eaten more than half her breakfast. "The thing is, Simon doesn't know about Lydia. He knows her name, but we've never talked about her."
"Well he probably learned about her when he accepted your blue icon. Color links are supposed to get more detailed information than we get."
"No. Simon told me he only got a few basics."
"Really? Huh. Well how would Ethan know about Lydia?"
"Ethan . . . well, he asks a lot of questions until he gets the answers he wants."
"So you've talked to him about Lydia?"
"I . . . we . . . oh, God, everything is such a mess!"
"Sweetie . . . ." Libby rested a comforting hand over Nina's.
"I'm falling in love with him, Lib. I don't want to, and he doesn't want me to, but I can't help it." She shook her head. "I can't figure it out either. It makes no sense. Eighty percent of the time he's angry at me for something. He yells and he's rude . . . . His language could chase a sailor back out to sea and . . . I think he's an alcoholic."
"God, Nina, who are you talking about? Ethan isn't any of those things. He flirts and teases and he's always smiling. He's easy-going and helpful, and I'll tell you right now, an alcoholic couldn't put together the kind of security operation we have here and then run it."
"I used to think all those things too." She frowned. "Maybe he's schizophrenic."
Libby laughed. "I'm so glad we're friends. I don't know anyone else with such an interesting life."
"You keep saying that."
"Well it's true. There's always something exciting and unusual going on with you."
"It's a recent development, believe me."
Libby squeezed her hand then released it. "So tell me about the other twenty percent."
"What other twenty percent?"
"That little window of time when Ethan isn't acting like an enraged alcoholic."
Nina smiled. But it was a sad, crooked smile. "He's the most wonderful man I've ever known, the most wonderful person I've ever known. He's everything you described—easy-going, flirtatious, playful. But there's so much more to him, Lib. He's thoughtful and generous and protective. He watches out for me."
"Do you think he loves you back?"
"No." That was easy enough to answer. "I think he feels more than friendship, and there's definitely a physical attraction. But he told me himself it couldn't go any further than that."
"Did he say why?"
Nina ran down the list. "RUSH, rules and regulations, friendships, trust, ethics . . . . He mentioned a whole list of things but I don't remember them all right now."
"So you've discussed it? This mutual attraction?"
"Sort of, but not really. We still avoid one another. Or we did until last night."
"What happened last night?"
Nina told Libby about her job, about Bill Durrand, the Christmas party, and described the scene that took place inside her boss's house."
"Geeeez, Nina."
"I'm going to lose my job."
"You don't know that."
"Yes I do. Davidson, Davidson & Bligh is a highbrow, conservative firm. They were asked to represent RUSH back in the beginning when City Hall tried to make trouble, but they refused. They'll be pleasant about it, but they'll let me go."
"You don't sound too upset about it."
"I cried it out last night. Ethan felt terrible, but I'm glad he did what he did. As much as I wanted that job, I'll probably fit in better somewhere else."
"I'm glad he did it too, and I wasn't even there."
Nina gave her an affectionate nudge. "You're a good friend."
"Well yeah."
They grinned at one another. Then Libby grew serious and asked, "So where does Simon fit into all this? Is he out of the running now?"
Nina considered how to answer. Her life had undergone so many changes since coming to RUSH. Things were happening too quickly, overlapping, and complicating matters just when she thought she had a grasp on things.
"When I first met Simon," she started, "he was very . . . forceful."
Libby chuckled. "No need to be politically correct. It's just us girls."
"Okay, fine. He was overbearing, bossy, and he scared me."
"You never told me that."
"Well he did. Within the first five minutes of meeting him I figured I'd better stand up for myself or get trampled."
"Is that why you two were always on-again, off-again?"
"Probably. Right from the start he wanted one thing and I wanted another. Then, when we finally did connect, God, all he had to do was kiss me and I turned to mush."
"Oooo! Tell me more!" Libby wiggled in her seat. "Lots of heat under all those numbers, huh?"
"He's a fantastic kisser. And yeah, he swept me off my feet."
"So what happened?"
"He backed off, remember? Just before I was attacked at the mall. I didn't see him or hear from him until he found out I was leaving RUSH, then suddenly he wanted me to move in with him."
"And you weren't ready for that."
"Not even. We hardly knew each other. At Ethan's house I have an entire guest wing to myself, but Simon didn't want me to stay there."
"Of course not."
"But there was no attraction between Ethan and me. Not then. He and Denny Cooper had just ended their link and I was trying to sort out my life. I was willing to pick up where Simon and I left off if he would slow down, and I told you we were going to start seeing each other again. And things were good," she added. "But it didn't take long before we argued about my living arrangements again."
"And that's when you found him with that other woman."
Nina didn't answer.
"But what about now? With Simon?"
Nina glanced around the dining room. It was still crowded and it probably would be throughout the day. "Now is more difficult to explain. There are times, when he talks to me, I begin to learn about the man beneath all that severity. It's as though he makes a decision to let me see who he is, how he views the world, and what he wants. It's been happening more and more lately and, honest to God, just when I think I have everything figured out he says something that goes straight to my heart and I think . . . I mean I wonder . . . ."
"You think you could fall in love with Simon too?"
"I don't know. He wants the blue link thing to work. But just when I start to feel that spark again, something sets him off. He starts making demands and I feel cornered. And it's the strangest thing, but I
've begun to notice that every time I feel trapped, Ethan shows up. It's almost as though he has a sixth sense about it."
"Maybe he's been keeping an eye on things."
"How? Most of my free time is spent here."
Libby shrugged. "Maybe he's been sitting up in Security Central watching the monitors to see if you and Simon work things out."
Nina thought about his study at home. He'd been watching her from there the night she and Simon talked on the porch and he'd intervened when Simon wouldn't let her go back inside.
How do you know all this?
I know it because I saw it. At RUSH.
Could it be as Libby said? Maybe he hadn't been here because of a link. Maybe he'd been tracking her relationship with Simon. Would he do that?
"All he has to do is run a trace on your implant," Libby went on. "Then he knows exactly where you are."
Nina considered that. "Does Simon have a way to do that? Trace where I am?"
"I suppose he could phone Security and ask if you're on property and where you are. Why? Do you think that's how he finds you?"
"I don't know. It makes sense. And that would explain how Ethan comes along right when I need to be rescued."
"Well if that's what's going on then I'd say Ethan's got it pretty bad too. And if there's as much animosity between him and Simon as you say there is, you can be sure Simon knows it."
Nina set her fork down. Her plate was empty. She'd eaten an entire meal without being aware of it.
She folded her napkin and set it on the table. "I don't know what to do, Lib. I hate that I've caused this. I hate that they look at each other with so much violence. But I don't know how to fix it."
From close behind a deep voice quietly said, "All you can do is choose."
Nina widened her eyes in horror.
Libby stared back, likewise shocked.
Simultaneously they whirled in their seats as a dark-haired man turned in his to give them a considering look.
The attorney. God, the attorney!
Nina's mind went blank. So appalled was she at having been overheard, she couldn't remember his name.
"Mason!" Libby breathed.
He turned serious eyes on Nina. "I apologize for eavesdropping. I didn't intend to, but it explains a lot." Warmth softened his expression. "They're two of the finest men I know, Nina. Make a choice. Do it soon. The longer you wait, the harder it's going to be on everyone—including RUSH."
"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm so sorry."
"I know you are." He rose from his chair and gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "Don't take too long."
"I won't. I'll try not to."
"And just to set the record straight," he smiled, "Ethan isn't an alcoholic . . . or schizophrenic."
Oh, Lord. She closed her eyes. When she opened them, he was on his way out of the dining room.
"I had no idea he was there," Libby murmured.
"Me either."
* * *
Paying attention in class was difficult. Snippets of her conversation with Libby kept distracting her, flooding her face with heat whenever she remembered the confidences Mason had overheard. About the only thing she'd said that didn't embarrass her was the fact that she had an entire guest wing to herself in Ethan's house.
Mason hadn't blamed her for the antagonism between Simon and Ethan and she wondered why. She'd told him she wouldn't take long to choose but the truth was, there were no choices to be made. Despite all the self-lectures and warnings, her heart had taken charge and made the decision all on its own. She couldn't deny the confusion she sometimes felt when she and Simon spent time together, but she no longer wanted to explore those feelings.
It was time for her and Simon to talk. She needed to find the words to make him accept, blue icon or not, that a relationship with her wouldn't work. But she wouldn't have that conversation here at RUSH. Not with a smile on her face.
By the time class ended, the notes she'd taken filled only half a page. Resigned, she packed up her things, filed out of the classroom with everyone else, and headed for a restroom to freshen up. She'd been in such a hurry to escape the house, she'd spent only a few minutes on her makeup and hair. She was presentable, but faint shadows had begun to show beneath her eyes, betraying the late nights, lack of sleep, and the buckets of tears she'd shed lately.
Libby was right. Her life was full of drama. Events kept spinning out of control. Even a simple conversation with a friend had landed her in trouble. —All right, maybe the conversation hadn't been so simple, but still . . . .
She needed to find a happy medium between the dull stagnation of life before RUSH and this perpetual tumult. Other people led exciting lives without all this uproar. Look at Libby. Look at all the R-links. There was nothing ordinary about an R-link's life but none of them were involved in multiple police investigations. None of them got attacked in parking lots. And not one of them was caught up in the sticky mess of a love triangle. So why was she the only one plagued by those things? Not for a minute did she believe what Ethan had said, that trouble followed her like a shadow. Her life had been too mundane for too many years for that to be true.
She left the restroom, headed for the lobby, then jerked to a stop when she reached the exit doors. Midway down the path, in clear view, the attorney—Mason Ingersol—stood talking with Simon.
Alarmed, she remained quite still, afraid any sudden movement might draw their attention. She shouldn't have been surprised to see Simon since running into him was pretty much a given now. But finding him with Mason on the heels of her conversation with Libby didn't bode well.
Backing slowly away, she started for the only other exit she knew of. It led to the R-link complex. Only the R-link complex. So she'd have to pick her way through the jungle, squeeze through a bordering hedge, and leap over a stream to get onto the main walkway. The problem was, she didn't have the long legs of a fashion model and there was no open space for an all-out running jump. She'd have to wade through the cold water . . . and what a tasty morsel of gossip that would make for anyone watching.
But what if Libby's theory was correct? What if Ethan had been coming back to RUSH every night, sitting up in Security Central, and tracking her movements on the various monitors? Would he help her? Maybe the reason he kept appearing just when she needed to be rescued was because he knew she needed to be rescued.
Oh, he wants you. He wants you more than you can imagine.
His words flew across her mind. Hope and joy, and the fear of hoping too much and feeling too much, filled her.
As casually as possible she headed toward the private corridor she'd used as an R-link. Pressing her palm to the biometric scanner in the wall, she waited for the door to open and was a little surprised when it actually did.
On her right were the dressing rooms and showers used exclusively by the R-links prior to, or after, their various training sessions. Along the opposite wall, several doors led to the mysterious treatment rooms where those awe-inspiring body preps were administered. All of the doors on both sides were closed.
She walked quickly, eyes fixed on the exit straight ahead, and slipped out of the building unnoticed. Following the short path to the south gate of the R-link complex, she drew a breath and, just as she had so many times before, slid her palm onto the smooth glass of the scanner.
Nothing. Her heart sank.
She looked over her shoulder into the dense vegetation and wondered how long she had before Simon phoned Security to ask where she was. Would he stand out on the main path and wait for her to emerge from the shrubbery? What possible explanation could she give for shunning the sidewalk in favor of a trip through the jungle? And what would he think if she sloshed through the stream for no apparent reason, soaking her clothes to the knees and shivering with cold? Maybe Ethan was right after all. Maybe she attracted trouble the way other people attracted friends. Maybe that was her punishment for the heartache she'd caused her parents.
Turning back around, sh
e looked beyond the gate and searched the trees until she found a camera aimed in her direction. Looking directly into the lens, she took one more chance.
"Ethan," she mouthed, "help me."
Was he even there? If he was, how long did it take to reprogram someone's implant? Would he disregard the rules and make an exception for her?
She supposed she'd have the answers to a great many questions in just a few seconds.
She waited as long as she dared, and when she knew she couldn't wait any longer she turned back to the scanner. Taking another breath, she lifted her hand once more and pressed it to the glass.
The gate opened.
For a moment she just stared. Then, in a rush of emotion, her heart took flight.
Ethan. Oh, Ethan.
Stepping through the sensors, she heard the gate close behind her. How long had this been going on? How long had he been watching out for her?
Making her way toward the nearest meditation alcove, she thought about the lines of weariness around his eyes, remembered thinking that he looked as tired as she felt. Now she knew why. If he'd been trailing her back to RUSH every night, he was just as tired.
Another thought occurred to her as she sat on the cold concrete bench . . . something that gave her pause.
If Ethan had been up in Security Central watching the monitors every night, he couldn't have been sitting at home with a glass of whiskey getting drunk.
* * *
"Ethan, we need to talk."
"No we don't."
Stepping easily around her, he drew his keys from his pocket and continued walking toward the Audi.
It hadn't taken long to locate his car. After looking for it in his assigned Chief of Security slot only to find the slot vacant, she'd driven up and down the aisles. He could have beaten her back to the garage and made it halfway home, but she'd followed a hunch and sure enough, he'd parked just a few aisles over in the guest area.
"But you said you wanted to talk," she reminded him, taking an extra half-skip to keep up with his long stride.
"Not anymore."
"What do you mean, not anymore? Why not?"
"Because I've got a lot on my plate right now, and you put it there."
"Me? What did I do?"