My world got a little darker with every number he scribbled. Where was Oklahoma from here anyway? Maybe they had room for one more...?
“Well, thank you both so much for meeting me.” Ella actually leaned in and gave me a tight hug—leaving what was sure to be two silicone-shaped bruises on my collarbone. “I’ll be sure to give you a call—I know I’m going to have a lot of questions.”
Kill me now.
“No problem, Ella. Thanks for coming in.”
“And you.” She turned to Nick with a chilling smile. “I think you and I are going to have a lot of fun together.” She stretched up on her toes and whispered in his ear. “A lot of fun.”
When she pulled away, she left a ring of bright pink lip gloss on his skin. He seemed determined not to think about it. He just focused on me instead.
“I can’t wait.”
She left without another word. Left us standing—ironically—in front of a tank where the sushi bar kept its lobster. The same lobster that had gotten us into this mess in the first place.
“Well this has to be a first,” Nick murmured, watching as her cab shot away into traffic.
I followed his gaze for a moment, before turning back—suddenly remembering that I had left my butter knife back on the table. “What’s a first?”
He folded his arms across his chest with a dangerous smile.
“It looks like you’ve got some explaining to do...”
Chapter 16
We moved from the sushi bar, to an actual bar across the street. This time, we got a private room in the back—one that was strategically off-limits to both patrons and the inevitable paparazzi hovering on the sidewalk. Those cameras Ella had been craving the entire time.
Buttons were loosened, jackets were removed. A bottle of aged whiskey was set in between us on the table. Nick opened it without a word and poured two glasses.
Then he leaned back and waited for an explanation.
...an explanation I was having a hard time giving.
I took one look at his face, and abruptly panicked. He didn’t look particularly mad, but the fact that I was even in this ridiculous situation, speechless as a guilty school girl sitting in the principal’s office, was making my head spin. I took a big gulp of whiskey. Then another. Then one more after that. After that...I realized my glass was empty.
He pursed his lips with a little smile and poured me another.
Oh...how the tables have turned.
How many times had the roles been reversed? How many times had I been sitting on the other side of the table, watching Nick have a silent panic attack before confessing his latest batch of sins? Gentling them first with copious amounts of alcohol.
I picked up the glass with shaking hands, then set it down again—at a complete loss for words. When it became clear I needed help, Nick gave me a little push.
“So...what are we into this time, Abby?”
My head snapped up, and I stared into his eyes. It was the exact same line I used to begin my routine rescue attempts. The standard preamble to unlock whatever new kind of mess he’d found himself in. I must have used it a hundred times.
His eyes twinkled back into mine, and in spite of all the odds, I started to smile.
“I’m sorry.”
There. Might as well just get it over with. Give him enough time to gloat.
He cocked his head teasingly to the side, frowning with false confusion.
“And what, pray tell, are you sorry for?”
The whiskey was taking effect. A nervous giggle rose up in my throat, but I swallowed it down—bowing my head with a grin as we started reading each other’s lines.