by Kris Jayne
"I don't get what that had to do with me."
"The client," Nick began, "isn't just any client. He's my ex-fiancée's father, and things have gotten complicated. I was already afraid that once he found out that Vivienne and I weren't getting married that he'd pull his business. He threatened as much when we started having problems."
"Sleeping with women to get what you want again."
"That's not how that happened."
"You keep saying that what's happening isn't what's happening," Micky barked. "It's like either I'm crazy or you are. You cozied up to one woman and to get her father to do business with you, and then you cozied up to me to make sure he stayed."
"I know that's what it must look like. When I met Vivienne, I didn't know her father or her family. It was only after we started dating that she suggested I approach him to hire my law firm. It seemed simple. We were together. We were getting married. Then…it fell apart."
"She left you."
"Yes, and he threatened to move his business if we didn't get married. That wasn't going to happen, so I focused on getting him this deal. I was wrong. I never should have leveraged you for information. I got caught up in my own push to finally be successful. To prove that I belonged in the world of movers and shakers."
Micky's expression softened. "Chasing acceptance from people like that is never worth it."
"I know that. I should have known that all along. My mother's been telling me that for years."
"She's smart."
"She is. You know, when I was a kid, she worked double time to pay for me to go to summer camp one year. All the other kids came from these highborn families. Rich kids. Their parents were businessmen, lawyers, and doctors. My mom was a maid, and my dad was dead. When parents weekend came, she drove down to see me. One of the kids saw her, and recognized her as one of their housekeepers. For the rest of camp, all they did was tease me about my mom. Everyday, I'd go into the mess hall, and the one kid would ask me how many toilets he thought my mom scrubbed that day. I ignored him and he kept on about my being poor and being one of the 'discount kids' who got to go to the camp. I walked right up to that kid and said, 'I may be poor now, but one day, I'll be rich, and you'll always be a dumbass.' And I hit him. Right in the jaw."
"I guess that's one way to shut him up."
"I guess. It wasn't even about being jealous. I just wanted to prove that I could make something of myself and take care of my mom, so she'd never have to scrub another toilet. I thought all I needed was to reach that goal and get what I wanted. I don't even know what I want now. Except you."
"You hurt me. You lied. You know why that gets to me. When I met you, I didn't know what to make of you, but I heard you talk about your family. I saw you with your nieces. I thought you were someone who valued people and family over money or status or a good time."
"I am. I did a stupid thing. I can only promise you that I'll never do anything like this again. That's done." Nick scooted toward her and reached for her hand. When she didn't pull away, his heart lifted.
"I need some time to think about this."
"Okay. Can we at least keep talking?"
She tilted her head and looked at him without smiling, her face blank, brows crunched. "Okay."
"Will you keep the flowers that I send you? The receptionist at the office is wondering why I'm sending myself bouquets."
"I don't want flowers or gifts or a big show, Nick. I want truth."
"Okay. I can make this up to you."
Micky said nothing else.
Nick leaned over and kissed her hand, then let it go. Before he could sit up, she ran her fingers through his hair, filling him with exuberance. As long as she cracked open the door to her heart, Nick would push through.
Chapter Forty-Four
The Winston Stratford Christmas party aimed to dazzle clients and employees alike. Nothing said you work for an elite firm like a lavish party at the Rosewood Crescent Hotel—one of the poshest in Dallas.
As soon as Nick entered the ballroom, he felt oddly alone without Micky. He should have tried harder to convince her to come. At least they had regularly talked in the two weeks since Thanksgiving. Back at square one in many respects, Nick took the dinner dates and trips to the movies, and with each chaste outing, Micky warmed to him. However, he didn't blame her for not wanting to spend time with people at the root of their problems.
The overhead lights were low to encourage dancing on the large square dance floor laid out in front of the bandstand. For now, they played some light jazz, but Nick knew that would change after dinner when the drinks were flowing.
Somehow, he made it through the prime rib dinner in conversation with Bob Stratford, his wife, and the other associates and their significant others. They all bantered about work, sailing, and golf. A few of the other associates used the time to impress Bob with their knowledge of wine and cars. Nick popped in with a word or two at appropriate intervals. His head felt like it was in a vice, so as soon as dinner was over, he excused himself and headed for the bar.
After grabbing his cocktail, Nick mingled with his coworkers and clients and eventually spotted Tom Moran. He stood by a table with his wife, his son, Jonah, and Vivienne, who made a beeline for him. She greeted him with a warm hug and a kiss on each cheek. Her mother trailed behind her.
"Hello, Nick. Look at the two of you," Sheila smiled and snapped their picture with her phone. Sheila gave Nick a hug as well, then quickly turned to say hello to someone across the room. "I'll leave you two alone."
Sheila winked, and Nick faced Vivienne with confusion.
"I wanted to talk to you, but you've been out of town. Then, I went out of town," Vivienne said.
"About what?" Nick asked with suspicion.
"I've been talking with my parents, and they're convinced that you and I should give it another shot."
"Vivienne. That's insane."
"You don't understand. My father has threatened to cut me off completely. That money is keeping me afloat while I build my business. The reserves I did have are gone." She paused and looked around for her parents. "You know why. Dad also said that he'll keep you from making partner here at the firm. We need to think about what we're going to do."
"And you're considering this?"
"I thought we could talk about it."
"No."
"Nick—"
"Not just no, Vivienne. Hell, no. I can't believe you're even considering this."
All the drama Nick had been through only crystallized his objection. He wasn't going to give up his shot with Micky for anything. Not his job. Not his friendship with Vivienne. Nothing. Her request alone showed how far off the rails she'd gone to avoid facing the truth with her family.
"I'll be broke, Nick. Less than broke. I have business loans. I'll have nothing."
"You have a growing business. You can work it out," Nick stroked Vivienne's shoulder. Panic struck her perfectly made up face.
"How am I going to do that?"
"You could tell him the truth. That would put a stop to this."
"You think that? I don't think it would make a damn bit of difference." Vivienne gave Nick a tight smile and laughed. "I knew it was ridiculous of me to even ask."
Nick sighed and put his arms around Vivienne, hugging her tight and letting her go.
"You need have more faith in yourself. No life built on this much bullshit is ever going to be a happy one. Don't let your parents convince you that this is the most you can hope for."
"It might be, Nick." Vivienne leaned in and lowered her voice. "I've known for a long time that I'm never going to have that perfect happy life with someone that I love in that way. That's not in the cards for me. I can live my life and be discreet, but having a life partner with a couple of Labradors and a white picket fence? That's not on the table for me."
"There are a lot of places you can get married. Soon you may even be able to marry in Texas. You can have that life."
"No. I can't." Vivienn
e pressed her palm to her bosom, carefully contained in a sleek, strapless gown in black.
Nick pitied her, because she couldn't see that she could have anything she wanted. But Nick did see that for her, and for himself. As long as the specter of this game with the Morans hung over him, Nick had a feeling he'd have no peace.
"Vivienne. I'm going to do you a favor." He turned heel and walked away from her.
Nick found Tom Moran in deep conversation with another of the firm's corporate clients. Nick fixed a smile on his face and got Tom's attention before walking over.
"Tom. Good to see you. I hate to pull you away, but can I talk to you for a moment?"
Tom returned Nick's forced smile. "Sure. Let's not talk too much business. This is a party after all. I'll talk to you later, Ed."
Nick lead Tom out of the main ballroom, and they walked down a corridor away from hustle and noise of the party. Nick gritted his teeth. He'd had enough.
"I'll get straight to the point because I think we've danced around this enough. I'm not marrying your daughter. Vivienne should have told you a long time ago. Our engagement is a dead issue. We're not going to work anything out. There will be no marriage. I feel for Vivienne, but her inheritance isn't a reason to get married. My job isn't a reason to get married. I hoped you wouldn't take it out on me professionally." Nick didn't care anymore if he did.
Tom Moran took a swig from his cocktail. "I see. That's too bad. You know, when I came to your firm, I did so because I believe in keeping business in the family whenever possible. You were supposed to be family."
"And now I'm not going to be, but I've done a good job for you. The deal with Azur didn't work out because you moved too slowly. That's not on me. I," Nick jabbed his index finger into his chest, "have done everything I can for you professionally and will continue to do so—professionally."
"Not if I take my business elsewhere," the older man replied.
"So, do that. Waste money going through the process of moving your business to another firm that's not going to do any better for you than we have. I'm not going to get forced into a marriage, and I frankly don't care anymore."
"If you ever want to be a partner in this firm, I'd suggest you start."
"I'm not the only one who doesn't want to get married. This all started because Vivienne broke up with me."
"Did she? Vivienne and her mother have been planning this wedding for months. She assured her mother that she'd work things out with you. She is still on board."
Nick didn't believe what he was hearing.
"Vivienne feels pressured. She wants to keep her world in order, but we're not getting married, and I can't believe you all think this freight train is going to keep barreling forward. Do you have so little faith in your daughter's ability to find someone on her own?"
"That's the problem, isn't it? She can find someone, but I don't know that she'd find the right someone. You're ambitious and clearly willing to push the boundaries to get ahead. You're seeing Micky, that brunette who works at Azur. You think I didn't know? You worked her for information and God only knows what else. I know who you are. That's what makes you perfect for Vivienne. Don't be a fool. I can do wonders for your career. Make partner here, and down the line, you could be in-house counsel for Moran Financial. Imagine achieving all of that given where you started."
"I don't need your charity to get where I need to go. Being beholden to you isn't worth whatever money I'd make or whatever influence I'd have. Vivienne doesn't want to marry me either, trust me. I don't know what your wife has been pushing on her, but our getting married would be a disaster."
"My daughter is confused and has been for some time," Tom informed him. "I know she has some proclivities that would complicate a marriage, but you can manage that. You have already."
"You do know?" Nick stared, no longer shocked by anything a Moran could tell him.
"I do. Vivienne doesn't know that I know, but I do. I suspected a few years ago that Vivienne was involved in an alternate lifestyle. I hired a detective and got confirmation. But that's nothing that can't be fixed. In the end, she's a Christian, and she'll do what's right."
"Being a lesbian can't be fixed, and it has nothing to do with her being a Christian. And none of this," Nick said, drawing an imaginary circle with his finger, "has anything to do with what's right. This conversation is over. If you choose to keep your business with the firm, fine. If not, good luck."
Tom stood between Nick and the route back to the party. As Nick started to go, the older man stayed put, forcing Nick to sidestep him.
While Tom might be willing to "manage" a marriage of convenience with a woman who shares nothing with him except the love of social standing and power. Nick wasn't.
Making his way back into the party, Nick found Vivienne.
"I'm getting out of here, but I wanted you to know that I talked to your father. He already knows about you, Vivienne. He had you followed or something a while ago. He knows. I don't think he's said anything to your mother."
Even in the dim light of the ballroom, now lit for dancing, Nick could see Vivienne's face grow even paler.
"He knows about me?"
"Yes. That's why he's so dead set on our getting married. He figures I'm someone that he can control and thinks I'm so desperate to get ahead that I'd be your…What's the male equivalent of a 'beard?'" he asked. "It doesn't matter. I'm getting off this ride, and I suggest you go have an honest conversation with your father and the rest of your family and figure out how to move on. This thing where I indulge your pathological need to please your parents? That's over."
Vivienne covered her face with her hands. "So, that's it?"
"I want to be your friend, but I don't know what you're doing. Planning a wedding? Still? You and your mother? She knows we're not together, right?"
"Yes. I told her, but she and my dad are dead set. My mom keeps saying they'll handle it."
"Viv, what does that even mean?"
"I don't know," she said in a small voice. Seeing this normally strong, confident woman reduced to pandering galled him, but this wasn't his fight. She had to work this out on her own.
"This is over, Vivienne."
Nick turned around and put on as good a work face as he could as he said goodbye to Bob Stratford and his other co-workers. At least for now, they were co-workers. Nick wasn't sure how all of this would shake out, but he finally felt at peace whichever way the cards fell.
Chapter Forty-Five
When Micky walked back in from lunch on Monday, the receptionist flagged her down immediately.
"There's someone here to see you," she said, pointing to the waiting area.
A tall, grey-haired man stood and walked over. "Micky. Nice to meet you. Tom Moran," he said, yanking her into a firm handshake.
"Hello. Can I help you?"
"Yes. Sorry to drop in on you like this, but Nick Halden referred me to Azur. I'm looking for communications software. He pointed me your way."
The man had angled and narrow eyes like a wolf, only they were ice blue. Micky withdrew her hand and took a step back. "I'm sorry. I don't have you on my calendar, and I'm not in sales. I can arrange a meeting for you with our local team."
"I'd like to give you an overview of what my needs are first. If that's okay?"
Micky paused, but turned to the receptionist and signed the man in. Once inside the glass security doors, she directed him to first conference room she saw and closed the door behind them. Tom Moran sat down and leaned back with his hands folded behind his head, grinning.
"I don't mean to be rude, but I don't usually take client meetings. That's not my role here. What exactly did Nick tell you?"
"For starters, he told me that you had some information about Azur's arrangement with Midsummer Technologies."
"Really?" Micky's heart began to pound.
"Well, not exactly. You see, I'm a client of his. I had plans to acquire Azur, and his firm handles my M&A business. That's mergers and acquis
itions."
"I know what M&A means."
"He told me that he had a contact here and that he'd be able to get inside information for me, which he did. Unfortunately, it seems your company is positioning itself to merge with Midsummer. I'm losing out, which does not make me happy."
"You're his ex-fiancée's father."
"Yes. That too. It appears that not only am I losing Azur, but I'm also out a son-in-law. That also doesn't make me happy."
Micky's leg started to shake, and she shifted her weight to her heels to still it. She threw up her hands. "What do you want? I can't help you on either account."
"Yes. You can. See, on one hand, you can stop seeing Nick. That's simple. The other is a bit more complicated."
"I'm not listening to this. I don't know what God complex you have that makes you think you can command me to stop seeing Nick and then command him to marry your daughter. I can't even imagine why you'd think that was a good idea. I'm leaving."
Micky put her hand on the doorknob, then froze.
"I'll ruin you."
"What?" Micky turned back around, glaring at Tom.
"All it takes is dropping the right piece of information in the right ear. Imagine how Midsummer would feel knowing that Azur had leaked information to a third party prior to your public announcement, and not just any third party, but a company with a competing interest in acquiring Azur. If your bosses thought this joint sales and marketing plan would lead to a more permanent arrangement, they'll have to get that thought out of their heads."
"I don't know what you're talking about. No one at Azur would violate our privacy policies." Micky stepped forward and put her hands on her hips.
"Maybe you knew or maybe you didn't, but I know that Nick talked to you."
"I have done nothing wrong. So, you can get the hell out."
"I can drop your name. Maybe your friend Taryn's name. You're supposed to be in her wedding aren't you? That'll be awkward when you get her fired."