“Sure, doll. Of course I do. I just want to know if you’re happy.”
It wasn’t until I said it that I realized it was true. Because the woman I met two months ago had been so desperately unhappy, she was practically tearing apart at the seams. Women who were happy with their husbands didn’t seek out trouble on a Friday night. They didn’t take off their rings in a bar. They didn’t come looking for me.
I remembered her face that night. The way her eyes, large and soulful, had been slightly red-rimmed from crying. The way she had quivered at my touch as something foreign, almost frightening, before it became something she relished.
“Do you know how long it’s been,” she wondered as she watched our fingers slowly, slowly entwine with each other, “since someone held my hand?”
That ache in my chest throbbed again. Her voice was so sad, so fuckin’ tragic. I would have done just about anything to see her smile. I wanted to hear that shy laugh. Just one more time.
But the truth? I realized then that I’d take her tears too. I’d take anything this beautiful woman had to offer me tonight. Anything at all.
“Why don’t you tell me what happened?” I asked.
I brought her hand to my knee so I could cradle it between both of my palms. Nina emitted a soft sigh, but she didn’t pull it away.
“Go on, doll. I got all the time in the world.”
I still didn’t know why she had been upset that night. Had it been this Calvin? What had he done to her? Because he had fucked up somehow. That much I knew for sure. But as much as I wanted Nina’s marriage to be so terrible she’d come running back to me all over again, I found something else to be true.
I’d probably do just about anything to make Nina happy.
Even if it wasn’t with me.
“Of course I’m happy.”
She was lying.
Even if years of interrogating criminals hadn’t taught me to sniff out lies like a bloodhound, I’d still have known it in a second. Even if the words hadn’t tumbled out of her mouth just a little too quickly or her back hadn’t straightened too much. It was something innate, something deep inside me on a cellular level that could sense the fact that Nina wasn’t telling the truth.
I knew this woman instinctually.
Just like, I suspected, she probably knew me.
“I suppose you want to know why I was at Envy that night,” Nina said as we started walking again. Something. Finally.
I shrugged. “Only if you want to share.” Tell me every fuckin’ detail.
Nina opened her mouth a few times. She did that when she was thinking, like the wheels churning in her head controlled her jaw too. It was cute. Another sign I was cracking that carefully wrought facade of hers.
Up through the trees, lights flashed from the cars making their way across the park. I slowed my steps a bit more. She didn’t seem to notice.
“Well, you know about what happened to Jane and Eric…” Nina gave a wistful smile. “I was trying to stay vague that night, but now I see I could have just told you everything.”
I nodded. Now that I thought about it, January’s events started to line up and make sense.
“We met, what, a couple of days after New Year’s?” I asked. “Eric was in jail…”
Nina nodded. “Yes. I was at the party where he was arrested.”
“You were damn upset, I remember that. Even then, I could tell it was about more than just your friend messing up their wedding, but I didn’t know…I didn’t want to press…”
Now I was the one holding back. Because to be honest, if I had known then what I knew now, I would have been forced to walk away or risk compromising my entire career. I don’t think it’s a choice I could have made. God help me, I’d have sold more than my soul for that night with Nina. Even if it was the only night I was ever going to get.
Something else was bothering me, though. Something else was missing. Not from that night, but from the morning. Before she left…
“Oh, Matthew,” she said softly. “What am I going to do?”
“Why don’t you tell me what happened? You never know. Maybe I can help.”
She watched me for a moment. “It’s my cousin’s wife. The one I told you about. She’s—well, she's done something very unwise. And he’s not available to deal with it, so I have to.”
“The next morning.” I looked up to the skyline with sudden awareness. “That was when Jane left for Korea, wasn’t it? That’s why you left in such a hurry.”
“That’s right.” Nina nodded again. “I was staying with her at the time, while Eric was at Rikers. Sometimes I think if I had been there…I could have convinced her to stay. And she…well, she wouldn’t have lost the baby.”
Everything about her sudden escape that morning made much more sense. As did her apparent guilt. The atrocities that Jane had suffered as Carson’s captive in Korea weren’t easy to swallow. It was by the grace of God that Eric had been able to get to her. That she had lived at all.
“Is that why you offered Jane the gala thing?”
Nina’s glance grew knife-sharp. “What do you mean?”
Now it was my turn to stop. I turned her toward me. I wanted to read her face clearly.
“Nina, we didn’t have a lot of time together, but I remember one thing. You like fashion. You like clothes. Enough that you could pick out the vintage Armani suit I was wearing in a crowded bar with just a glance.”
She didn’t reply, but the shadow of guilt across her face told me I was on the right track. So I rattled on.
“And if this event is as big as you say it is…well, let me ask you this: Of the two of you, one a lifelong socialite who probably organizes these kinds of things with her eyes closed, the other brand-new to this world and recovering from a traumatic kidnapping to boot, who is going to be more qualified—or welcome on the committee, for that matter—to put this shindig together?”
The shadow darkened. Nina bit back a smile. Bingo.
“She’s been sad,” Nina said as she started walking again. “Eric’s been worried about her. She’s been sitting in that apartment alone all day, every day, for almost two months. Most of the event is already planned anyway, and it seemed…it just seemed like the least I could do.”
I knew it. She was doing this out of guilt. I knew something about that. It’s hard to forgive yourself for things when you think you might have been able to fix them. It’s even harder when you know you were responsible.
“You sure you’re not Catholic, baby?” I joked.
As we arrived at the traverse, Nina turned with a woeful smile and raised her hand for a cab. “Maybe in another life.”
Before I could answer, a taxi pulled over. I surprised Nina by piling inside the car with her. Suddenly, I was engulfed by her scent as it filled the backseat. Roses. She still smelled like roses.
“What are you doing?” she asked as I shut the door behind me.
“I need to get the train on the east side,” I lied. “You wouldn’t make me walk in the rain, would you? Don’t forget, doll, I wear vintage.”