“I don’t know what else I could do for work. This job is all I’ve ever known.”
“Eh, you’ll figure it out. You’re a smart guy. Plus, who could say no to that pretty face of yours?”
“If I can’t actually do the work? Lots of people.”
Case laughs, remembering another job I botched back in my early days. I laugh along with him while he recounts the story, but in the back of my mind, all I can think about is Elle.
I was serious when I said there’s nothing else I can do besides this job. My résumé won’t be winning anyone over, that’s for sure. And I’ve only known Elle for a few weeks now.
How can I change my entire life for a shot with a girl—no matter how amazing or perfect she seems for me—when I have no idea if we’ll even work out once she learns the truth about me?
Chapter Fifteen
Elle
All day, my stomach has been in knots. I couldn’t even enjoy my lunch at one of my favorite sushi spots downtown.
After my amazing date with Nic last weekend, he stopped responding to my texts or calls. At first, I was hurt, then mad, but now I’m just worried. It’s not like him, and the only logical explanation is that he’s sick or hurt, or . . . worse. I’ve been counting down the minutes until it’s five o’clock and I can go to his place and check on him.
I glance at the clock again, and relief floods through me when I see it’s finally time to go. Rising to my feet, I grab my purse from the file cabinet drawer where I store it during the day, and shove my phone inside.
“Hey, Elle!” Lindsey from reception stops beside my desk, smiling at me.
“Hi, Lindsey. What’s going on?”
Even if I’m not exactly in the mood to chitchat, Lindsey is sweet. We go to coffee together sometimes, so I can’t blow her off and rush for the parking lot like I want to.
“Me and Samantha from accounting are going to grab a drink. The new place around the corner has great happy-hour specials.”
I smile politely and place the strap of my purse over my shoulder. “Sorry, I can’t tonight.”
“Plans?” She grins.
My stomach churns uneasily. I haven’t told anyone about Nic yet, not after Christine’s reaction, but maybe it’s time I do. It wouldn’t hurt to get a little friendly female advice.
I chew on my lip and meet her gaze. “Actually, I’m not sure. There’s this guy I’ve been seeing, and I haven’t been able to get in touch with him the last couple of days. We had this amazing date, and then . . . poof, nothing. I’m wondering if he’s sick or something.”
She makes a face at me.
“What?” I ask.
Lindsay presses her lips into a line. “It sounds like you’re getting blown off. That sucks.” Then she grins again and flips her hair over one shoulder. “Which means you should definitely come out to happy hour. I’ll buy you a margarita.”
I shake my head. “Nic wouldn’t do that. He must be sick or dead. That’s the only explanation.”
Lindsay’s eyebrows dart up. “Trust me, guys do skeevy shit like this all the time.”
I huff out a sigh. “Either way, I’m going to go over to his place and check on him.”
I know him well enough to know that it’s not like him to blow a woman off like that, even if he isn’t interested. At least, I thought I did.
A guarded expression flashes across her features before she smiles at me again. “If you say so. Good luck.”
“Thanks.”
We start off together toward the glass doors in the lobby, but each step makes my stomach churn with nerves. What if she’s right? What if I totally read our date wrong? But my curiosity has gotten the better of me, and I need to know what’s going on.
When I reach Nic’s place and see his black Tesla parked out front, my mood changes from worried to pissed off.
I take the elevator to his floor and knock on his door. Then I take a step back, placing my hands on my hips in anticipation of what’s about to happen. I’m so mad now I’m practically shaking. But I’m here to get answers. And if he acts like a total asshole, I am so out of here.
After a few moments, I hear footsteps from inside, and Nic opens the door. We stare at each other for a moment, and I can tell immediately that something’s wrong. I’m fully ready to ask him what the hell is going on when I pause to take in his disheveled hair and his deep brown eyes, which are more heavily lidded than usual.
“Elle,” he says, his voice cracking. He places one tanned hand against the door frame as he takes me in. “What are you doing here?” he asks, slurring his words slightly.
“Are you drunk?” I ask, incredulous. I don’t know what I was expecting when I came here, but it wasn’t to see calm, cool, and collected Nic drunk like he’s just attended his first frat party.
He shakes his head as he leans against the door frame. Despite how mad I am, I can’t help but notice how good he looks in his casual T-shirt and jeans. It isn’t fair. How does he still look this sexy, even when he’s totally obliterated?
“I had a few drinks with a friend last night.” He shrugs.
He looks at me again, not quite meeting my eyes, and I can see that he’s anxious about something. I can also tell that he had more than just a few drinks, but I decide not to push it.
“You caught me at a really bad time. You should go.”
“What’s going on with you?” I demand, ignoring him. “I was worried sick about you.”
“Elle, can we please not do this right now?” He rubs his face in his hands, letting out a little sigh.
“Yes, we’re going to do this now. You invite me over, cook for me, and then you totally ghosted me.” I push my way past him into the apartment. He doesn’t try to stop me, probably because he can barely stand up straight. “Who does that?”
“Please, can we talk about anything but that?” he pleads, watching me as I set my purse down and turn back to face him.
I notice the empty beer cans strewn across the coffee table, along with a half-empty bottle of whiskey. Then I take him in again. He’s still leaning against the door, and he looks miserable.
My anger fades as I look into his eyes. I can tell that whatever’s going on, he really is torn up about it. And if it is actually something serious, I don’t want to come in here and be a total bitch just because he didn’t text me for a few days.
“When’s the last time you ate?” I ask, my voice softening.
He shrugs. “Earlier today, I guess.”
“Come,” I say as I walk into his kitchen and pull open the cupboards, checking out what he has.
He follows me, standing uncertainly in the kitchen doorway. I fill a glass of water and set it down on the table, then I grab his hand and lead him to a chair.
“Sit. And drink this.” I’m still annoyed that he blew me off, but I’m willing to believe he has a decent reason for it.
As he drinks his water, I pull ingredients out of the fridge and put together a quick stir fry, figuring the rice will soak up some of the alcohol. I glance at him as I cook, making sure he’s drinking the water. After a lifetime of always being the designated driver, I’ve had plenty of practice playing nurse for highly intoxicated people. And although the only place I really want to play nurse with Nic is in the bedroom, it’s my instinct to help him right now.