The Other Man (Rose Gold Book 1)

by Nicole French

  Simple, but true. Her cheeks turned the color of rubies, and she blinked rapidly, like she was trying to stave off tears.

  “Zola.” Derek’s voice was low, but full of insinuation. What the hell are you doing? Packed into just my name.

  I cleared my throat. I couldn’t offer her my arm—I knew she’d never let me anyway—any more than I could tell her everything i was thinking. Not with all these people, photographers, gossips that might get back to her husband. Not with the squad of NYPD in my ear.

  In another life, we were going to these things together. Here, we were oceans apart.

  I glanced around as we entered the Egyptian wing-turned-banquet hall, then found the security zone just a few feet away.

  “That’s my wing,” I said, pointing toward them. “Over with the gorillas.”

  Nina followed my finger, then turned back in confusion. “What? But that’s completely outside the event. You’ll never enjoy the party that way.”

  I fought a chuckle. “Sweetheart, this party isn’t for me. I’m next step up from the help here. You know that.”

  “That’s absurd,” she said. “You won’t be able to see anything from over there. You can be my plus-one.” She held out a white-gloved hand. “Since mine didn’t show. And you…did.”

  The glove covered everything, and for a moment, I stared at the proffered hand, imagining that her fingers were just as bare underneath as the immaculate white material. Derek might have teased me about a fairy tale, this wasn’t the time to pretend. That rock was very real. As real as everything I felt for the woman wearing it.

  “Yo. Cinderella,” Derek snapped. “What the fuck are you doing? Say yes so you can start looking for Carson.”

  Love isn’t perfect. And you can’t choose when it finds you. All you can do is make the best of the choices it gives you.

  You can’t squander the chances you get. Even if they aren’t the ones you dream of.

  And in that moment, I knew: married or not, this chance couldn’t get away. Not without knowing what I really wanted. How I really felt.

  It was time to put cards on the table.

  So I tucked Nina’s hand into the crook of my elbow, then reached behind my ear to turn off my headset. I’d catch a raft of shit about it later, but it was just for a moment. Not everything needed to be overheard.

  We entered banquet area, where more than half of the attendees were milling around the tables while a band, warming up for some pop star, started playing various covers. A few cater waiters had started delivering food, but the actors, celebrities, designers, and other wealthy attendees who weren’t quite ready to eat were standing around, drinks in hand, a few even dancing near the stage.

  “Would you look at them?” I said, nodding at the masses of shiny people.

  We found a table bearing Nina’s name along with Eric’s, Jane’s, and a few others I didn’t recognize.

  Nina blinked. It said a lot about where she came from that she wasn’t the least bit impressed by a bunch of famewhores. Joni would be going nuts about now.

  “Some of the most beautiful people in the world, all in one place,” she remarked.

  I sank into the seat tapped for “Calvin Gardner” and flicked the name card off the plate like it was a cockroach. “None of them compares to you, you know. Not even fuckin’ close.”

  Nina sat down as well. “Matthew…”

  One by one she peeled off her white gloves and stowed them in the small handbag she had brought with her.

  “I’m going to break it off with Annie,” I said, glancing around in case anyone else was listening. They weren’t. But you never knew.

  Nina’s brows knit together. “What?”

  I took a chance and set my hand on her knee under the table. Where no one could see. She tensed, but didn’t move.

  “Don’t tell me it doesn’t make you at least a little bit happy.” I ran the back of my thumbnail over her knee. “I think it’s the right thing to do, given what happened in the elevator. Don’t you?”

  Nina watched the progress of my finger with abject fascination. “Matthew, I don’t think…”

  “Don’t do that. Don’t start any more sentences with ‘Matthew, I don’t think.’ It doesn’t matter how many times you try to think your way out of this, doll. It always comes back to the same equation. You and me. That’s it.”

  Nina sighed. “It’s not that easy. The elevator—that wasn’t me. That was a nervous breakdown, not—”

  “Love? Lust? Fascination? Desire?” I leaned in to catch her scent. Roses. And, if I wasn’t mistaken, a whiff of red wine. Someone had been pregaming, huh? Nerves, maybe? “Pretty sure all of those things were present in there.”

  She jerked away from my hand. “You’re pushing me. Stop.”

  I glanced from side to side, then darted in and delivered a lightning-quick kiss.

  “Matthew!”

  “What?”

  “Why did you do that?”

  “Are you really saying you didn’t want me to?”

  “Well, I certainly didn’t ask!”

  She was flustered. It was cute. Right here in this room full of glittering chandelier-like people, I was the one who could make Nina de Vries blush whenever I damn well pleased.

  I leaned in again, ready to take up the challenge she was throwing down. But to my surprise, she placed a hand on my chest and pushed me away.

  “I said stop,” she said firmly. “I understand that you want to have a conversation about the elevator, but this is neither the time nor the place.”

  “I disagree. I think this is the perfect time and place.”

  “And why is that?”

  “Because I’m pretty sure there’s a good chance that when you leave here tonight, I may never see you again.”

  Her full red lips pressed together. But she didn’t argue. We both knew I was right. That if things went the way they were supposed to, there was no reason for us to see each other again.

  I took a deep breath. The frenetic energy of the party was catching, as was realization that I might be making the biggest arrest of my career tonight. Under normal circumstances, I might have chalked the adrenaline rush up to that, but since I’d met Nina, I’d been more consumed with a woman than my job. Now, everything felt like do or die. With her most of all.

  “Don’t you see?” I asked. “After tonight, I may not have a reason to see you again. It’s the only time we have. So do yourself a favor, and stop fighting it, princess.”

  It was the wrong thing to say. Nina’s eyes flashed like the sun blinking off a sword’s edge.

  “You stop,” she said through her teeth. “Stop pushing. Stop interrupting me every other sentence. You can’t just corner me at a place like this and expect me to give you what you want.”

  “You invited me in here! And you corner me every other time,” I cut back. “On the street. In the goddamn elevator. You expect me to jump, but now that I’m willing, you bat me away again? I’m just being honest here, Nina. Are you? With me or yourself?”

  “That’s enough, Matthew. I am not doing this right here,” she snapped through suddenly gritted teeth.

  “Nina, please. I’m done playing the martyr, fighting what we both know is inevitable.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “I do know that. And I’m tired of pretending like you don’t exist when, since January, my entire fucking existence seems to revolve around you. You want to keep it to clandestine hotel rooms? Sneaking a night here and there, lunches whenever we can manage. Fine. We’ll do that. If that’s all you can give me, I’ll fuckin’ take it.”

  She was fighting her damnedest to keep that mask in place as she waved at someone or other across the room. “Well, I won’t.”

  “Why the fuck not?” I demanded.

  “Because you deserve more than that!” She looked like she wanted to bury her face in her hands, but couldn’t because of her carefully applied makeup. “Because I thought about last night too, Matthe
w. And in the end, I felt horribly guilty. Not because of Calvin, but because of you. You and I—it’s not meant to be. I know you think it is, but there is no happy ending for us!”

  The statement was a punch to the gut. “I don’t believe you.”

  Nina huffed with exasperation. “You must!”

  “Well, I don’t!” I protested, suddenly wild as I looked about the crowd.

  Her sudden imperiousness sliced through me. She’d had enough? Well, I had too.

  I turned back to her, full of stubborn resolve. “Please, doll.” I let the nickname slip over my tongue like honey. “I think you and I both know that under the right circumstances, you would do whatever I told you to do.”

  “Matthew, please!” Nina hissed before lowering her voice to a whisper. “I am not kidding. Aside from the fact that Eric and Jane are about ten feet away, I meant every word I said. I understand that things shifted in the elevator, but you have to leave it alo—”

  “Well, hello!”

  Jane’s overexcited greeting landed in the middle of the sentence like a bomb. It was obvious in one glance that neither she nor Eric were expecting me to be present inside the party. But Jane didn’t seem particularly surprised to find Nina and me talking.

  Eric, however, was another story.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” he demanded, uncharacteristically terse, even for him. His meaning was clear. I was supposed to be behind the scenes, not in the middle of them.

  It was also the cold splash of water I needed. I was at work. I couldn’t do this here. But that didn’t mean I wouldn’t finish it.

  “This isn’t over,” I said to Nina as I turned my headset back on.

  “Yo!” Derek demanded. “What the hell happened to you?”

  “I couldn’t let the cops have all the fun, could I?” I said to Eric, ignoring my detective’s frantic voice. “Granted, I’ll have to watch, but Nina was nice enough to help me in.”

  Eric raised his left brow in the exact same way his cousin did when she didn’t believe my bullshit either. “You couldn’t just wait over there with the squad cars? Don’t you think being smack in the middle of the gala would give the game away?”

  I frowned. What the hell was he so uptight about? He knew the plan from the start was to have a man inside the gala to observe, at the very least.

  I started to answer, but Jane stepped in. “Eric, why does it matter? Carson isn’t coming anyway.”

  I blinked. What?

  “He isn’t?” Nina looked between them. “Oh, I’m so sorry.”

  “This is what I’ve been trying to tell you for the last twenty minutes, man,” Derek said in my ear. “Eric’s mom got a call just before she left. He canceled. I think someone from the Institute snitched.”

  “Shit,” I muttered, trying to ignore the way Eric was currently staring me down.

  I couldn’t tell if it was because he thought this was somehow my fault, or if he was pissed I’d wasted twenty minutes talking to Nina, who was currently studying her wedding ring like she wanted to rip it off her finger.

  Okay, fine. But I had had my doubts about this plan from the beginning. It wasn’t my fault that Carson had decided not to show.

  Still, it only meant that Eric and Jane would have to wait even longer for the closure they had both been hoping tonight would bring. My own chest felt a bit heavier as the adrenaline that had previously been racing through my system dissipated as well.

  My defenses dropped. “I…no, you’re right. I should probably go.” I glanced at Nina, who refused to meet my eye. “See you, doll.”

  Eric and Jane immediately turned toward Nina as I slipped away behind a barrier of elephant palms that blockaded the dining area from the rest of the museum. But even from behind the foliage, I could still hear bits of their conversation floating through the din.

  “Nina, what the hell?” Eric snapped. “What were the two of you talking about like that? Where is Calvin?”

  “Calvin didn’t want to come, and to be honest, I was fine with that. He’s a terrible date at this sort of event anyway. Since Matthew is helping to put John Carson behind bars, why shouldn’t he have come in? I was just helping.”

  I smirked. She was a good liar. One of the best. But I did wonder if Eric could see her tells the same way I could, being family and all.

  “Matthew? Come on, Nina…”

  Yeah, he probably could.

  “It’s nothing, Eric. Let it go,” Jane murmured.

  “I’m going to the ladies’ room.”

  I remained behind the palm as Nina rushed past me, her cheeks reddened as she fought to keep her mask in place. On the other side, Jane stepped closer to Eric. If I wasn’t mistaken, something like relief colored her features. Out of all of us, she had dreaded this night the most, despite being thrilled about her part of the gala.

  “Come on,” she told Eric. “It’s done for tonight. There will be other chances.”

  Eric scowled. “Will there?”

  “With any luck.”

  I watched as Eric pulled Jane close, then press his forehead to hers with such open, honest adoration, I knew I couldn’t just let things with Nina end the way they had. Maybe she needed to say goodbye.

  “Don’t even think about following her, Romeo,” Derek said in my ear.

  I sighed. She was lost already, and there were hundreds of people milling about the place.

  “Come down to the security offices,” he was saying. “We need to regroup.”

  Chapter Thirty

  There wasn’t really any reason for me to linger at the party, but I did. Derek heading back to headquarters to figure out just where John Carson had gone, whether he was even in the city, and whether or not it was possible for the NYPD to pick him up before he left again. Since I was the only one dressed for it, Derek asked me to stay with a skeleton squad (and be available by cell phone) in case someone of note—namely John Carson or another member of the Janus society—showed up after all. It was a long shot, but I was happy to do what needed to be done for the case.

  Who was I kidding? It was for her. It was always for her.

  Because it wasn’t Eric or Jane or any of their related family that I watched from behind the row of elephant palms.

  It was Nina.

  I watched as she cut her food into the smallest of small pieces and barely ate any of it.

  I watched as she faked smiles to three actors who stared at her tits the whole time (and made me want to punch them in their veneers in the process).

  I watched as she got up and danced with Jane with limp, lackluster movements.

  It was painful. I knew how that woman could move. I knew her grace, her poise, her bone-deep elegance. Right now she looked like a flower deprived of sunlight and water.

  These people. This world.

  Slowly but surely, they were sucking the life out of her.

  Like a voyeur, I watched, until finally, a few hours later, her mask dropped enough that she clearly couldn’t take it anymore. She looked over the room, chatted with Jane a moment, and then ducked out in the direction of the costume exhibit again. Likely to grab some peace.

  I looked around the room. The event was still going strong, but it was late. People were going in two directions: toward sleep or delirium. John Carson wasn’t going to show, and there had been no more from Derek. The night was a failure. At this point, I had nothing to lose.

  I found her wandering the halls of the exhibit in quiet, standing in front of several large mannequins bearing dresses by someone named Vivienne Westwood, all hanging over steel pipes, behind which flashed black-and-white shots of a bunch of punk concerts.

  I peered at them doubtfully. Punk wasn’t really an aesthetic I got. Ripped clothes. Messy hair. I preferred more classic eras. Tailored clothes. Nonna always said I was born in the wrong time period. She was probably right.

  Nina stood in front of the exhibit, staring at one dress in particular that was black and white, but slashed with bright
red paint. Like it had gone through a particularly violent war zone.

  “Do you like it?” I asked.

  She started, but didn’t turn. “Well, no. Truthfully, this designer has never been my cup of tea.”

  “But it’s interesting,” I said as I looked up at the three dresses in front of her. “It’s ugly. But Jane—and the other people—they did kind of make it pretty.”

  “Punk was all about pretty-ugly,” Nina said, almost more to herself. “It was a whole movement about not being perfect. Not being what people expected of you. Breaking the rules for just…one…night.”

  I stilled. There was something off about her. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but it was definitely there.

  Then she turned, and I saw why.

  Cast in the stark lighting of the hall, for a moment, Nina almost looked like she was part of it. She was dressed in the silver chain mail, but as always, the red across her mouth disrupted the otherwise neutral perfection.

  But just like the pictures, the ripped dresses, her perfection was marred—by streaks of makeup, the smear of her lipstick.

  Nina hadn’t come here for a break. She’d come here to break.

  And yet, as I looked at her, just like every other time I’d laid eyes on her, the same thought crossed my mind: I’d never seen anyone so goddamn beautiful.

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa, baby,” I said as I crossed the hall and pulled her in to my chest. “What’s going on? What’s happening?”

  “Oh, Matthew,” she whimpered. “Why did you come here? I couldn’t—”

  “Shhhh,” I whispered. “I didn’t come to argue. I promise.”

  “Then what?” she asked. “You say you can’t take this anymore. Well, neither can I. But I keep trying to say goodbye to you, and you won’t let me!”

  “Come on, doll. You can’t possibly think this is ever going to go away. We’re like magnets, you and me. We keep finding our way back together. And the farther you pull us apart, the more our reunions feel like a crash.”

  She pressed her forehead into my shoulder. “Crashes break things, Matthew. And ours would ruin people’s lives.” She shook her head sadly. “I’m sorry. You have no idea how sorry. But I can’t give you what you want. My daughter. My family—I told you, I can’t split them up.”