Zenith Falling (35 page)

“Nick
–”

He gritted his teeth. She was about to thank him. Apologize to him. Well, fuck that.
“Goodbye, Joelle,” he said, turning before he had to listen. And before he began to hope too hard that she’d suddenly run into his arms. Leave with him. Leave this life behind. Leave Rob.

What was the proper protocol after leaving the woman you love, so she could go home and fuck another guy, even if it was her husband? Nick had no clue. He sat in the limo, and drove around. After getting a buzz himself from imbibing in the vast assortment of alcohol the limo supplied, he finally stumbled out at his building. He threw her shoes, and what was left of his tuxedo down on the floor of his hallway. He fell onto his bed fully dressed and stared up at the ceiling as the unbearable weight of something made his chest tighten. What was this feeling? Anger, hurt, loneliness? What?

He always handled break-ups well; perhaps a little discontented. Or occasionally, pissed off. But never like this. Not this feeling of having his heart drowned before his tortured eyes. What a joke his life was! He could buy his own private jet tomorrow and pay cash if he wanted. He was about to be featured as a responsible, successful, even likeable CEO in tomorrow’s newspapers.
He might even get national coverage.

And
yet, he didn’t give a flying fuck about any of it.

What he wanted exclusively was the girl who resented
his money most of all. He wanted a little four-foot-nothing who could hardly look him in the eye, who was much too young for him, too weird for him, too shy for him, and married for Christ’s sake. Still, all he could think about was her: Joelle. He’d fallen irretrievably in love with the one person he couldn’t have. The one person he couldn’t convince to love him.

He thumped the mattress with his feet in frustration, getting even more p
issed off. Furious. Hurt. Aching. Suddenly, his doorbell chimed and he slowly sat up. He glanced out his bedroom door.
Joelle?
Did she leave Rob, and come to him? Adrenaline rushed through his body with a jolt. He jumped up and opened the door, but jerked to a halt when he saw who was standing there.

Brittany Snow, her dress, much too small and too tight, and spike-heeled, strappy shoes, with her hair piled on her head, stood there. Her eyes gobbled him up, and looked heavy with drink. He paused as he regarded her.

“Heard employeesh weren’t off limitsh anymore. Heard your lil’ Joelle flew the coop. Lookin’ for shome company, Mishter Lashiter?”

Nick hated how hard her eyes seemed. How cold and vindictive. How she slurred his name unashamedly, without a trace of shyness
, or the slightest hint of reverence that Joelle showed to him.

His hand was still on the door, and he simply opened it
wider, without a word. She smiled as she ducked under his arm. He slammed the door behind her, and she turned, coming over to him. Tall and long, she fit her body snugly against him. She pushed him back against his front door, and pinned him there; kissing him hard and hot, with her tongue and teeth as her fingernails dug into the flesh on his arm.

She suddenly pulled back and looked into his eyes, waiting. He nodded before leading her towards his bedroom.

The doorbell droned through the entire penthouse, seeming to echo and chime off every square foot. Nick groaned as he propped up and opened an eye to read the clock. It was only seven in the morning. His head hurt. He had way too much drink the previous night, and way too much emotional stress. Sunlight poured through his still open shades. It was blinding. And totally unwelcome. The chime blared again. He got up finally, and pulled on some sweats and a t-shirt, before stumbling to the door. Expecting whom? Whomever it might be, he never expected to see her.

Joelle.
She was standing in his doorway in faded jeans, and a sweatshirt zipped up, her hands jammed deep into the pockets. Her hair was still blonde, but twisted up around a rubber band in a messy knot. Nick let out a long, deep sigh.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, rubbing a hand over his face to wake himself up.

“Can I come in?”

“I don’t think you need to. Your actions spoke pretty clearly last night. And I don’t see any need to rehash them. Just leave me alone.”

“Please, Nick,” she asked, her voice quiet, unsure. Her eyes looked big and black, gazing up at him. “Can I come in?”

Like he could ever refuse her? Not when she looked up through long lashes and sad-looking, doe eyes. Ever the small, repentant child seeking his forgiveness. God damn and watch if she wouldn’t succeed in getting that out of him. He let the door go, opening wider.

“I need some coffee,” he said as he strode into the kitchen, seemingly unconcerned if she came in or not, while knowing her innate self-loathing would have her apologizing to him in no time.

He set about finding coffee beans and water. Working through the haze in his brain, the anger ma
de his movements sharp, and louder than necessary. The liquid began to drip. He leaned against the counter, arms crossed over his chest and his head cocked, waiting for whatever lame excuse and
I’m sorry, Nick
she’d come up with.

Joelle was looking everywhere, but at him. Her gaze bounced around the room, on him, off him, onto the floor, the window, the table, back to him. Nick finally sighed. “Quit looking like I’m going to
yell at you. You woke me up at the crack of dawn to say something, so say it.”

“I’m
–”

“If you
’re about to say you’re sorry, don’t bother. I don’t care.”

“Yes
, you do, Nick,” she said quietly in a tone that seemed the only confident thing about her. She fidgeted, looking here, there and everywhere, but her tone came out as if she knew exactly what he thought. And what he wanted.

He ran a hand through his hair.
“Look, we’re there, Joelle. The end. I think I always knew we’d end up right here, no matter what I did or didn’t do. I saw you melting down last night, long before you actually did. I saw the signs. So let’s skip the recap. As well as the apologies. The whatever you’re here for.”

She pulled something out of her pocket,
and laid it on the table.

“You gave Rob your credit card.”

Nick didn’t bother to look. He knew he handed her husband his credit card. “Didn’t need you running around the city again, without even a penny to your name.”

“So you gave Rob your credit card? He could have taken it and charged thousands of dollars to you. Why would you risk that?”

“For you. I obviously gave it to him, for you.”

“That was a big risk.”

Nick shrugged. He wasn’t expecting this particular line of questioning. Like that was his biggest risk lately? Or mistake. Had she ever looked in the mirror? She was his biggest risk and mistake to date. “Did he do anything with it?”

“Other th
an marvel at your trusting him with it? No. I took it from him.”

“Great. You can go now. You’ve delivered your responsibility to me; you’re free.”

“That’s not why I’m here.”

“Then why? I saw everything I needed to see last night.”

“I didn’t sleep with him.”

“Well, congratulations. What are you telling me for?”

“I shouldn’t have run off like I did.”

“You shouldn’t do a lot of things. Running off from me is pretty harmless on your list of should
nots. You know you could have just told me you wanted to leave last night.”

“I got intimidated. I got
–”

He glanced at her sharply.
“I know exactly what you got. I saw it happening. I just don’t see why you couldn’t have said, ‘Hey Nick, I need to go.’ Or ‘I’m going.’ Or ‘Bye Nick.’ It’s not like I had you handcuffed to me. Or not understood. But you seem to forget, unlike your husband, that I know you, and I would have listened to you. And done whatever you needed. But no, you ran off. Again. Always. Leaving me wondering.
You ran to your husband.
Fine. Message delivered, loud and clear.”

She
eyed him suspiciously. She didn’t like it when he finished her sentences. She came closer, and he glanced down. She was frowning at the tracks of nail marks she spotted on his right arm. Ridiculously, he felt embarrassed. He tugged at his sleeve, then turned and grabbed a mug before pouring coffee into it.

“What happened to you?” she asked
finally.

“None of your business.”

She stared hard. He could feel her gaze on the side of his head, but he still didn’t look at her.

“Nick. Who was here?”

“Who was here?” he laughed, a brittle, mean laugh. “That’s great. You’re going to admonish me for having someone here, when I got to practically watch you dry screwing your husband on the dance floor. Oh that’s just great.”

“Who was here?” Calmly direct, she refused to take the bait at all.

“Who? Brittany Snow. She seemed to like knowing I’ve decided to screw around with my employees now.”

“Did you? Did she stay here last night?”

He felt itchy and had to move. He paced and took a long sip of coffee. Anger and resentment were building in him. Joelle actually dared to sound annoyed at
him
. When did she earn the right to grill him?

“She came to my door, and practically threw me against it. She did this. She was all ready to go. So was I, for that matter.”

“Did you?” Joelle’s teeth were gritted.

“What if I did? What does it matter to you? To us? Come off it
, Joelle, you think you’re the only one who deserves not to fully be here? Not to fully commit?”

“Did you sleep with her?”

“God, you’re such a hypocrite. You know that, right? No, I didn’t. You want to know why, Joelle? Not because of my undying love for you. Not because of my guilty conscience that I didn’t want to be unfaithful to you. No, nothing so noble as that. No, it was entirely because of you! I don’t have any condoms in this house anymore. That’s it. That’s why I stopped it and threw her out. Simple as that. There’s your reason why.”

Her gaze was on him. Steady. Solid. Challenging. He set his coffee cup down with a clink
, and the coffee sloshed over the side.

“That’s not why.”

“It’s the only reason why.”

“No
, it’s not. The same reason why I didn’t go home with Rob.”

“Bullshit.”

“Ask Erica.”

He looked at her long and hard. He thought maybe she was telling the truth.

“Okay, great. We didn’t screw with other people last night. Makes us both saints, doesn’t it? Couple of the year.”

“No.
It means I screwed up.”

“How? On who? Did you screw up sleeping with me and cheating on Rob? Or are you cheating on me when you’re with Rob? See how complicated it is? I do. And I think I’m really tired of it.”

She sat down; her posture loose, her shoulders slumped forward as she tried to be small and unnoticed. She wanted to shrink her significance in the world, and he hated when she did that. He couldn’t stand that she felt compelled to do that again.

He sighed
and sat down too, his anger rapidly fading. Silence filled the space between them for a long moment. He tapped his fingers on the table. “We can’t do this. Not anymore. I can’t stand seeing you turn back into what you were. All nervous. Worried. Anxiety-ridden. Over what? I’m not doing this to you. Look, I’m not mad at you. But I’m not doing this anymore.”

“I’m not trying to hurt anyone.”

“That’s the thing: when you start sleeping with two guys, one of them is bound to get hurt. And they are doomed to hate each other. And you’re not exactly cut out for that role. I don’t know what you want. And I’m tired of only confusing you more. You need to figure it out on your own. Hell, dump us both, move away, start over. Just find yourself in there, Joelle. Find who you want, and what you want. Whatever it is. Just find it. My life isn’t made for you. I finally saw that last night. You’ve been trying to tell me all along, and I believe you now. I hope you’ve learned enough not to go back to Rob, but that’s not my call either. It’s yours. I’m done. I’m done hurting you, and I’m done asking things of you that you can’t give.”

“Nick
–”

“Just go. Leave me out
of it. Please,” he said quietly, his voice nearly cracking with emotion. He loved her. But he couldn’t love her enough for both of them. He turned his back to her and stared out the windows above the awakening city below. He felt his heart nearly stop beating.

She stood up.
“Okay, I’ll go. But just for the record, we both know you have a box of condoms in your left nightstand. So yes, it was because of me you didn’t do anything with Brittany Snow last night.”

He turned in surprise and she fisted her hands together. “And
I’m going to make this up to you. I swear to God, I will. We’re not done.”

Turning on her heel, she left his penthouse. He watched her leave and his heart fell to his toes as the door shut and the horrible silence filled his opulent, spacious condo. He
felt sick to his stomach and worse, knowing it wouldn’t get better any time soon. If ever. But knowing too, that they were, in fact, done.