I arch a brow. "There isn't a man alive who is worth this. Don't beg for it. Never beg for it."
"I'm not begging," she huffs out a laugh. "I was offering."
"I declined." I glance at Ellie. She's back from the stock room and now in deep conversation with another security guard. "Twice. There is nothing you can say that will make me change my mind."
"I guess it's my loss and her gain."
"Who?" I turn back to look at her.
"The woman you can't take your eyes off of." She gazes at Ellie. "You look at her the way my husband used to look at me. Ex…my ex-husband."
"I'll let my lawyer know that he should expect your call and I expect never to see you again." I take a step toward the door. "Tell Shelby I wish her well but she needs to let go. I'll never be a part of her life."
Chapter 43
Ellie
"I have an interview with the NYPD next Friday." I lick the ice cream that's dripping down my finger. "I wanted to give you a heads-up since technically you're sort of my boss."
"No sort of about it, Ellie." Nolan leans forward to run his tongue over the path mine just took. "I'm your boss, and I want you to get that job."
"It's not for the academy." I hand him the cone and the last bit of melting cookie dough ice cream that's left in it. "I'll be working an administrative job, but it's still an in. It would be a big deal to me to get my foot in the door like that."
"I admire you." He places the cone into a glass decorative bowl on the coffee table. "You go after what you want."
"You do the same." I grin at him. "I don't think that bowl is meant for ice cream. It looks like a piece of art."
He glances to the side, his eyes skimming the bowl. "It looks like a piece of art that's holding a melting ice cream cone now."
I survey the space around us. I've never been to the shoebox when there's been sunlight filtering through the windows. It's Saturday afternoon and when he called to tell me that May had a playdate with a friend and he was free, I jumped at the chance to see him.
We shared a sandwich on the patio of an upscale restaurant on the Upper East Side. Then we rode the subway to Cremza and finally we raced back here to the shoebox, trying desperately to eat our shared cone before it all melted under the sweltering heat of late summer.
"The paintings in here are originals, aren't they?"
His eyes stay focused on my face. "Both are originals, yes. They belong to my mom."
"Your mom trusts you with those?"
He furrows his brow. "What's that supposed to mean? My mom thinks I'm very trustworthy."
"What's she like?" I pop my feet up to the couch, wrapping my arms around my bare knees. "What's your dad like? I've seen pictures of them online but I'd like to know what they're like."
"Let's see." He crosses his long legs as he leans back against the leather. "My mom is an angel. She's as smart as a whip and beautiful. She loves my sister and me unconditionally. We can't do wrong in her eyes."
"She sounds amazing," I mutter. "What about him? Your dad?"
"Ernest Black is what you imagine every grandpa should be." His brows rise. "He's kind but tough. He'll take you to task if you cross him but he'll give you a hug with his next breath. He's the best businessman I've ever known. He has insight that I'll never possess. He taught me everything I know about Matiz before he retired and fucked off to Europe with my mom."
"They come back here, though, right?" I question. I read an article about Nolan's parents online. It said that they own homes on several continents but make a point of coming back to New York a few times a year.
"They show up when they want." He chuckles. "Usually at my place in the middle of the night. I have a bedroom for them there."
"It sounds like you're close to them."
"They're the best people I know." He taps his chest. "They've always stood by me. They love May fiercely. I couldn't ask for better parents."
It's what I always imagined a family should be. What I always wanted for myself.