Anyone But Nick
Page 8
Iris cleared her throat. “What he’s trying to say is we were curious. So we decided to do a little digging. We were getting Bear ice cream when we saw you two lovebirds strolling around.”
“We weren’t ‘strolling,’” I said tightly.
“Frolicking. Gallivanting. Call it what you want,” Iris said. “We saw you and decided to take action.”
“By hiding in a bush?” Nick asked.
“Behind the bush,” Cade said. “Technically.”
“This is not a ‘prop,’ by the way.” I held up the folder and pointed to it. “We came here to discuss work.”
“Oh, I’m sure that’s what you told yourselves,” Cade said. “I like to leave our multimillion-dollar, top-of-the-line headquarters when I have to talk about work too. Because, you know, the office is really just for walking around and looking busy.”
“Look,” Nick said to me softly. “I know Cade well enough to know he’s not going to leave us alone unless he gets what he wants. Just cross your fingers behind your back and follow my lead.”
“Cross my fingers? What are we, three years old?”
“I can still hear you two,” Cade said. “But he’s right. I want Miranda to look Nick in the eyes and say, hmm . . .” He tapped his chin thoughtfully. “‘You are my moon and stars.’ And then tuck a lock of hair behind Nick’s ear. Slowly.”
“This is ridiculous. I’m not doing that.”
“Then we’re not leaving. Unfortunately for you, Iris is the only one of us who has somewhere to be. I can pester you all day.”
“Or we could just leave,” I said.
“Miranda,” Nick said. “It’s harmless. He’s just a child in the body of an adult. If we humor him, he’ll leave. But for the record, I don’t have ‘locks’ of hair.”
Cade rolled his eyes. “I didn’t ask for excuses. Just make it happen, people.”
I looked at Nick and fought the urge to sigh dramatically. “You are my moon and stars,” I said in a dull monotone. Then I pantomimed tucking a hair behind his ear. My fingers brushed his temple, and I didn’t fail to notice the wave of goose bumps that sprouted on his neck.
“Good,” Cade said.
“You’re just letting this happen?” I asked Iris.
She grinned. “It’s about time you mounted another horse. So, yes.”
“Actually, I think the idea would be for the horse to mount her, in this case,” Cade said.
“What’s ‘mounting’?” Bear asked.
“It’s when—” Cade started.
“It’s time for you to leave us in peace so we can actually get work done,” Nick said. “Now.”
Cade and Iris looked like two scolded children, but they finally left.
“Maybe one day we’ll be able to go somewhere in public without my brother sneaking up on us,” Nick said.
“He’s . . . persistent.”
Nick chuckled. “That’s putting it lightly. He just worries about me. I think he’s convinced that all the dating I’ve been doing is some kind of sign that I’m going off the rails.”
I tried not to look too interested. I counted to three—albeit a little quickly—before responding. “Why the sudden change, anyway?”
“Hmm?”
“I just mean the whole speed dating thing. It’s not like I was cataloging your personal life, but, I mean, one minute you seem content being single, and the next you’re with a new woman every week.”
“That’s a bit of an exaggeration.”
“Well, if you want to get technical. Three weeks ago you were dating that redhead—the one with the blog. Then two weeks ago it was that sporty girl who always had her hair in a ponytail. And last week it was Mary. I mean, we all knew Mary from back in high school, and I hardly ever thought . . .” I trailed off when I saw the look on his face. My cheeks suddenly felt very hot. “God. I sound like a complete stalker.”
He smirked. “Just a little bit. But your point is taken. I guess I’ve been a little more active lately. It’s mostly that my parents start trying to set me up with random women from wealthy families if they think I’m not currently dating.”
“And you have to date as frequently as you have been to keep them off your back? Wouldn’t it make sense to just stick with somebody for a little while?”
“Theoretically,” he said. “I just feel guilty when I know it’s not going to work. Stringing them along, I mean.”
I did my best casual voice, staring off into the distance as I spoke. “People around town are saying you don’t even sleep with any of these women, so I guess you find out it’s not going to work pretty quickly, huh? What gives it away?” God. That did not sound casual, at all.
Nick watched me for a few seconds, and if I didn’t know better, I’d think he was biting back a smile. But he reached down and picked up the folder suddenly. “Can you walk me through how you broke down those July expenses?”
I forced a smile and made an effort to look unbothered. Great. I’d freaked him out. “Yes. Of course,” I said.
I met Kira and Iris at Bradley’s for dinner. For the longest time, we’d only ever meet at Bradley’s for coffee in the morning, but our evolving schedules meant it was becoming more normal to have our get-togethers whenever our schedules allowed. None of us complained. Bradley’s was the heart of West Valley for us in so many ways. It was where Iris had told us about her first kissing experience in middle school—the now-infamous “vacuum cleaner with teeth” incident that happened after she fell asleep on Bobby Sullivan’s couch while watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer. It was also where we’d convinced Kira not to shave her head after she’d gotten lice freshman year. It was where we’d met to celebrate when I’d gotten my first grown-up job at Crawford and all the promotions that had come shortly after.
Just being in the dimly lit and busily decorated building always made me feel a little better, no matter what was happening.
Kira and Iris were already waiting at our table by the windows when I arrived. They both stopped talking and watched me with an uncomfortable level of focus as I came in to sit down.
I smiled nervously, shifting my eyes between them. Iris was still in her police uniform, and Kira was dressed like she’d come straight from the classroom. “What?” I asked.
“Well,” Kira said. “New job, huh? We didn’t even know you’d lost your job at Crawford. And then we find out from Cade that you’re working for Nick. It has been two days, and you haven’t said a word to us about it.”
Iris was nodding, arms crossed. “Not a word.”
“Oh, you stop,” I said to Iris. “You and your little husband have been stalking us. I didn’t need to say anything because you creeps have spied it all for yourselves by now.”
“It’s the principle that counts,” Iris said. “I shouldn’t have to spy on my best friend to get the dirt. You should be shoveling it into my eager ears.”
I grinned. “There is no dirt. Okay? I got let go at Crawford, and I should’ve told you guys, but I was already getting a sympathy overdose after the breakup and didn’t want you guys to worry. Besides, I knew I could find another job and figured it’d be easier to talk about once I did.”
“We’re not just here for the good times,” Kira said. “You’re supposed to lean on us when things are shitty. It’s part of the job description.”
“It’s also in the job description that you are allowed to spy if your bullheaded friends are too stubborn to talk about their problems,” Iris added.
“I should’ve told you guys, and I’m sorry. But, seriously, there’s no dirt. Yes, the whole Nick-as-my-boss thing was a surprise. And, yes, I might’ve had to sort through my feelings about that for, like, an hour. But I’m good now. He’s my boss, and we knew each other forever ago, but that’s all in the past now.”
“Mm-hmm,” Iris said.
Both of them watched me until the silence hanging between us felt accusatory.
“It’s complicated,” I said. “But I’ve got it handled.”
<
br /> They still wouldn’t say anything.
“Okay, so I still have some feelings for him,” I said. “But I care more about doing the job right.”
“Oh, Miranda,” Iris said wistfully. “I still remember how easy you made it sound when you were on the other side of the fence. Just stay away from them, you said. Just be strong, you said. Most importantly, remember the oath. I won’t lie; it’s nice to see even the great Miranda Collins is going to fold under the same pressure we did. Those King cocks are just striking us down, one by one, like three beautiful dominoes—one a little more beautiful and combat ready than the others, but beautiful nonetheless.”
Kira tilted her head. “Am I the combat-ready domino?”
Iris glared. “What’s the best way to stop somebody who has both their hands on your neck?”
Kira thought about that. “Blow a rape whistle?”
Iris reached across the table and gripped Kira by the neck. Kira’s eyes bulged, even though I could see Iris wasn’t squeezing.
“You bring your hands up inside my wrists and then push out. Most people try to pull at the wrists from the outside, but you’ve got to get inside and then explode out—yeah, like that.”
I waited while my friends went from choking countermeasures to the best way to flex your fingers for gouging out eyeballs. I decided to go grab a coffee when they transitioned to how to blind somebody by whacking them with their ponytails—a technique I was pretty sure Iris was completely making up.
When I came back, they were both waiting for me with folded hands. “What?” I asked.
“Trying to escape the interrogation, are you?”
“Uh, no,” I said. “I was just giving you two time to play.”
“Self-defense is no game,” Kira said. She paused, then looked toward Iris, who nodded her approval.
I grinned. “You two are idiots.”
“Two idiots who will survive a choking attempt,” Iris said. “And you can try to change the subject all you want, but admit it. You’re going to fold when that King cock comes a-knockin’ at your door.”
“Nobody is folding,” I said. “Sometimes I feel like taking my bra off by lunchtime and slinging it out the window, but I don’t, just like I’m not going to let any feelings I may or may not have for Nick mean anything. I have a job to do, and that’s what is going to happen.”
Kira rolled her eyes as she did a half-assed job of repeating what I’d said in a robotic voice. “Must do job. Must ignore feelings. Must not have fun. Ever.”
“Kira’s right,” Iris said. “You’ve seen The Shining, right? You remember what happens to the dad when he gets too obsessed with his work? Because I’ll tell you right now, if you try to break through my bathroom door with an ax, I won’t just cower in the corner and scream. I’ll Tase your ass.” She whipped a Taser out from her belt and tried to twirl it on her finger, but it fell to the ground. Both prongs discharged into the wall the moment it hit the ground.
Iris scooped it back up and cleared her throat. “Just like that. You’d be the wall.”
“Don’t even pretend that was on purpose,” Kira said, laughing.
Iris blushed while she quietly reset the thing and put it back on her belt.
“I have the rest of my life to worry about fun,” I said. I was starting to feel exasperated. They really just didn’t get it, and Iris had the attention span of a poorly trained monkey. “If I keep my head down a little longer and focus on my career, I’ll be able to have so much more fun for the rest of my life.”
“Because money equals fun?” Kira asked.
“Hey. Neither of you get to pull that line on me. You married billionaires.”
Iris sighed. “Coincidentally, the guy you have all these feelings for is a billionaire. If you wound up marrying him, you’d get to have all that fun you are talking about.”
“I’m not going to pursue a guy because I want his money. I just want to . . .” I looked down. For some reason, it felt too personal to just blurt out, even though I’d basically explained it all to Nick yesterday. “It’s not about the money,” I said simply. “And what if this is my last chance at this kind of career and I throw it away because I’m chasing some guy who will end up breaking my heart?”
“Well,” Kira said, “what if this is your last chance to fix things with Nick too? If you had to choose between your career and your heart, which one are you willing to risk?”
“That’s a little dramatic,” Iris said. “She’s not going to lose her heart if it turns out Nick was actually the right guy all along. It’ll just kind of fester and get smelly, like that pack of chicken breasts you bought on the weekend because you were totally going to eat healthier this week, but every time dinner rolls around, you end up coming home with tacos and pizza, so by Friday it smells like death took a dump in your kitchen. For the rest of her life, no guy will ever want to get close because they’ll be able to smell it from a mile away. So tragic.”
I gave both my friends a level stare. “Sometimes, I wonder why I bother asking you two for advice at all.”
“That’s simple,” Iris said. “Because underneath that stony exterior, you’re like a fragile, delicate little flower who just wants to be cuddled.”
“Uh,” I said. “No. That’s definitely not it.”
Iris held her fingers close together and squinted. “Isn’t it, though? Just this much?”
I sighed.
Chapter 8
NICK
I was leaning on the kitchen island while Rich clanked his way around my cabinets. He had something sizzling in a skillet and a tray of veggies roasting in the oven.
“You said you do have basil?” he asked.
“Yeah. On the windowsill. It’s fresh. You use the clippers in the knife rack to trim whatever amount you need.”
“Fancy,” he said.
I grinned. “Not really. Even Cade could keep a basil plant alive, and it means I don’t have to remember to buy more when I run out. It’s self-refilling.”
Rich paused long enough to give me an incredulous look. “Cade couldn’t even keep the artificial plants I got him for his birthday alive. This basil plant would be in flames within a day.”
I chuckled. “Okay. You’re right. But you get my point.”
“So, how is the Bark Bites acquisition going? I’d been meaning to ask you about it.”
“Fine,” I said.
Rich paused with a handful of basil in one hand and the tiny clippers in the other. “Fine?” he asked. “What happened to the Nick I know? The one who would usually have exact figures and projections memorized by now? I estimate that—”
“Point taken,” I said. “And I don’t have an estimate I’m confident in yet. This one is . . . complicated.”
“They’re all complicated.” Rich had completely stopped what he was doing to watch me. I could feel that obnoxiously perceptive mind of his putting the pieces together already. I knew him well enough to know there was no point in trying to hide it now. Keeping something off Rich’s radar was possible, but once he’d set his sights on it, it was only a matter of time before he would figure it all out for himself.
“Working with Miranda is complicated,” I said.
He nodded, as if he’d already figured that out. “Cade told me about that. When you failed to mention it to me after a couple days, I wondered.”
“I didn’t mention it because I already decided how to handle it. I’m not going to get attached, because I don’t want my feelings impacting my business sense.” And I’m not good for her. She needs me out of her mind and out of her life.
Rich folded his arms.
“Shouldn’t you stir that?” I asked.
He didn’t budge. “It can wait.”
I wanted to groan.
“Do you want me to step in and run this one?” he asked. “Remove yourself from the situation if you can’t trust your judgment?”
“No,” I said. “I don’t run from things when they get hard. This is my prob
lem to solve.”
Rich watched me through narrowed eyes before laughing and turning to stir the food. “Damn. Nothing gets you riled up. You must really like her.”
“I’ve barely talked to her in seven years. If I really liked her already, I’d be as worried about my judgment as you seem to be.”
Rich spoke now with his back to me as he moved around the kitchen, tending to the meal. “Love isn’t like a cake, Nick. There’s no set recipe and no required cooking time. It’s more like cookies. You can eat that shit raw, if you want, or you can pop it in the oven and wait to see how it turns out. You can do both. You can leave it in the oven too long, and it still tastes good. But from the moment you mix up the dough, you know if you like it or not. Time isn’t really going to change that.”
I couldn’t help laughing. “Advice on love from Martha Stewart, brought to you by Richard King.”
He turned to smirk at me. “I’m serious, though.”
“I know you are. That’s why it’s funny. But being able to restate something in the form of an analogy doesn’t mean it’s true. That’s your idea of love, not mine.”
“You ever been in love?” Rich asked.
“No,” I said.
“Exactly. Then your opinion on love doesn’t get to overrule mine. Love is like cookie dough. Case closed.”
I shook my head and began checking emails on my phone. “Then I’m choosing not to taste the cookie dough, because it’ll be better for everyone involved. I’m also pretty sure there’s an increased risk of getting foodborne illnesses from eating raw cookie dough. Haven’t you ever read the packaging?”
“I don’t read packages, and I cook it from scratch. Besides, the purpose of a cookie is to be eaten. Not eating a cookie means it existed for nothing. How could that possibly be the best for the cookie? It sounds like you’re just choosing what’s best for you.”
“I refuse to take this seriously anymore. I’m not going to get into a philosophical debate on whether a cookie’s purpose is to be eaten and pretend it has any bearing on my love life.”