There is nowhere you can go that I won’t find you and drag you back kicking and screaming.
His words played on a constant loop, stopping me from packing a bag and running. All my doors closed just as I tried to open them.
So, just as fast as I’d dialed the office number, I set it aside and went back to pacing my apartment.
I’d also picked up to call Nova and Raelynn just to toss my phone in a drawer and walk away. They’d have questions I didn’t have answers to, and I had enough crowding my mind without others there joining in. I decided to wait.
So, when his order came without question, I’d almost been relieved at having the decision made for me. Besides, I could always walk out.
The driver was professional and cordial on the drive over, nice enough to not comment on my wringing hands and tapping foot.
Knowing Nicholas didn’t spend all his time in New York, I was shocked to be pulling up to a fancy building on the edge of Central Park.
I said thank you to the driver and made my way to the glass doors, my heart thudding a million miles a minute. As fast as my heart raced, my legs slowed.
This was stupid. I should hail a cab and run.
He probably just wanted me to come over so he could fire me in private. He wanted to let me know he was sorry, but last night had been a mistake, and he wanted to let me down softly.
Because it was a mistake, right?
I shook my head in the middle of the sidewalk, not caring of the looks I got from passersby. This was crazy.
I took one step back when the memory of Camden’s cruel words, and my father’s harsh slap had me standing still.
Even if the whole thing blew up in my face, and I walked away without a job, still set on a path to marry Camden, I had to at least try. I had to know I’d at least listened to all my options.
With my chin high, I walked through the glass doors into the exquisite lobby. The concierge sent me to the top floor, of course. The doors slid open to a small lobby with one door behind a round table holding flowers. The lobby looked like an illusion to the man I knew resided behind the door. The soothing creams and soft, warm lights hid the cold man who lived here.
Leaving it behind, I knocked on the door and held my breath, waiting.
The door opened to a version of Nicholas I’d never seen. He still wore his pants and shirt from work but stood barefoot on the soft gray wood floors, his tie long gone, and top buttons undone, revealing a smattering of dark hair.
Had I ever found chest hair so sexy?
All of a sudden, my fitted black slacks and starched white shirt screamed overdressed.
“Verana. Welcome,” he said when I stood there even after he stepped back.
I swallowed and snapped into action, taking the final steps over the threshold, leaving the illusion behind.
“Vera. You can call me Vera.”
“Vera, then. It suits you.”
“Thank you.”
He took my purse and set it aside on the entryway table before leading me further into the apartment. Surprisingly, while the colors weren’t warm, it didn’t have the chill I’d expected. The gray couch begged to be slept on with its fluffy pillows and throw blanket. I wanted to slip out of my pumps and dig my toes into the cream area rug designating the living room in the open space.
All of it said comfort, even if it did look impersonal.
To top it all off, the sun going down over Central Park made everything else almost irrelevant.
“This is beautiful.”
“Not a bad view. I’d offer to eat outside, but it rained earlier, and humidity is making the summer heat close to unbearable.”
“Of course.”
“The dining room’s view isn’t bad, though.”
The wall of glass extended the entire length of the open room, encompassing the living room, dining room, and modern kitchen.
I followed him to the long wooden table. “Do you have many guests?”
“No.”
“Oh. It’s just a big table.”
“I didn’t pick much of this out. I had a say in the bedroom, office, and living room since I spend most of my time there. Otherwise, I left it to the designer.”
“Oh.”
So eloquent, I scolded myself, fighting to keep from rolling my eyes.
“Wine?”
My lingering headache almost had me saying no, but my tight shoulders and tingling nerves had me nodding my head.
Dinner melted on my tongue. By far, one of the best risottos I’d ever had.
“This is phenomenal.”
“Thank you. My grandmother loved to cook and made sure I knew all her recipes.”
“You made this?” I almost spit my food out.
“I’m a grown man in his thirties. I know how to feed myself.”
“I kind of just assumed you ordered out.”