I slide across from him. “Even if it means we don’t spend much time together?”
“It’s okay. I understand that you have to work so the court doesn’t take custody away. I can be on my own sometimes or with Mrs. Potter. I don’t mind.”
“Oh, Jay.” I fight the tears stinging my eyes. “I’m so sorry.”
He lowers his head. “I’m sorry, too.”
“Why?”
He moves the pasta on his plate. “Because you have to go back to England because of me. Because he…he’s coming for me.”
“No one is coming for you, Jay. Not when you’re with me.”
He lifts his innocent eyes to me, and they’re wide and expectant. “Promise?”
“Cross my heart and hope to die.” I smile and motion at the pasta. “Now, eat your food.”
He digs in, appearing satisfied. “So good, Nikki.”
“Eat up, then.”
I’m about to take my first bite when my phone dings with a text.
My heart nearly reaches my throat when I see the name.
Bloody Idiot: Come to my flat. I need you to review a last-minute contract.
No. No, he doesn’t.
Bloody Idiot: And bring me something to eat from Katerina’s.
My fingers are basically punching the screen when I type.
Me: Excuse me, sir, but I’m off duty and spending personal time with my family.
Bloody Idiot: I don’t give a fuck about your personal time or your family. And you’re not off duty unless I say otherwise. Be here in thirty minutes or don’t bother showing up to work tomorrow.
I release a frustrated sound that makes Jay pause eating and give me a “what’s going on?” look.
“It’s just my twat of a boss.”
“Your typing sounded like you were about to punch someone to death.”
“Him, preferably,” I mutter, then sigh. “Sorry, Jay, can I take a rain check on the film? I have last-minute work.”
His shoulders hunch, and I hate how he quickly fakes a smile. “It’s okay. You’d fall asleep anyway.”
“So sorry, baby. But I will stay for dinner.”
Jay smiles genuinely at that and my heart bursts. What have I done to deserve this blessing?
I call Katerina’s restaurant beforehand to ask them to prepare me the meal, but Jonas informs me that they’re not accepting orders anymore.
So I tried to tell him it’s for Daniel and even begged him to let one slide, but he snobbishly hung up the phone in my face.
He and his chef have never liked me since that pesto and parmesan incident, which Daniel threw away as I predicted.
My gaze falls on my untouched plate and I chew my lip as an idea pops in my head.
This way, I get to spend a few more precious minutes with Jay. Daniel will throw away anything that’s not from Katerina anyway. He throws away half her dishes, too, because he’s picky as fuck.
I really only witness him consume unhealthy amounts of protein bars sometimes.
Ten minutes later, I reluctantly kiss Jay’s head, put the pasta in a takeout box, and head to Daniel’s flat.
This isn’t the first time I’ve been to his building. He gave me access to his flat on the first day I started working for him so I could personally deliver his dry cleaning.
This is the first time he’s called me from his flat, though.
And for some reason, when I get out of the taxi, hugging my bag, the place doesn’t feel familiar.
It’s an up-and-coming building in the heart of New York City with security that rivals the Queen’s palace.
A flat here is worth twenty-six million dollars. I know because I heard a lady bragging about it on the phone, and she only lived in a normal flat. Not like Daniel who’s in a penthouse with special access.
The concierge, a kind old lady, smiles at me. We’ve become acquaintances over the times I’ve been running like a headless chicken and she’s helped push the button for the lift for me.
She does it again and I thank her before I type in the code to Daniel’s place.
The lift opens straight to his living area. The interior of his flat is black and blue and as impersonal as funeral services.
Yes, it’s luxurious and screams money and status, but it’s as cold and frigid as its owner.
And judging by his overloaded schedule and night fun, he barely spends time here anyway. It’s like he keeps himself busy on purpose. Why, I don’t know.
The sound of giggling reaches me and I pause, thinking I overhead something. Does he have kids over?
Who in their right mind would leave their kid with that insufferable jerk?
I step into the living room and pause when I realize it’s not a kid that’s giggling.
It’s a woman.
Two, actually.
Each one is hanging on Daniel’s arm like a hooker in a Christmas parody.
The green-eyed monster rears its head, filled with rage I’ve never experienced before.
Is this what he called me in the middle of the evening for?
Is this what I left Jay sad and heartbroken for?
You know what? That’s it.
I’ve had enough.
11
DANIEL
Nicole looks at me as if she wants to kill me then throw me to rabid dogs.
I share the feelings.
Or maybe mine go a step further.
Maybe mine is mixed with an unhinged sense of hatred that I don’t usually allow myself to feel.
A hatred that’s so childish in nature but also lethal.
The reason I chose to become a solicitor isn’t because of a warped sense of justice or even profit.
It’s because I’m vindictive. To a fault. With enough black emotions to drown the Dead Sea.
And because I’m vindictive, I’ve become colder to Nicole. I’ve turned her everyday life into hell and made sure she never goes home at a reasonable hour.
Except for earlier today.
I had this thought that was basically “what the fuck are you doing, Daniel?” and decided to let her go home.
Until I had a glass of whiskey—or two, that is—and started imagining her with her “family.” The same family she was on the phone with the other day and called “hon.”
No clue why, but I became equal parts annoyed and murderous.
That’s why I magically invented a contract and ordered her to come over.
The girls just showed up on their own because I sent a half-drunk text.
It doesn’t even take effort anymore. They see my face on magazine covers and hop on my lap like kittens with separation anxiety.
It’s all too easy. Too convenient.
Too fucking boring.
I don’t have a goal in life aside from building a career, I guess. I don’t even think about opening my own firm like Knox does, because…well, I didn’t choose law because I could see myself practicing it for life. I chose it because it was the farthest thing possible from my beloved family affairs.
I don’t have that, either. A family, I mean. Not after Father fucked every escort his assistant could get her hands on, then died while he was with one of them. Fitting as fuck, if you ask me.
As for my mother, she checked out years ago, not to mention she always preferred Zach over me. To say our relationship is stagnant would be the understatement of the century.