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With my transfer to London looming at some point, it wouldn’t matter much anyway.
Later that evening, when I gave up and turned in for the night, my bed was a cold, inhospitable place. The scared girl who’d climbed under the covers with me last night had provided a warmth that was missing now. We’d shared a different kind of intimacy.
Me, a cuddler? No fucking way in hell, so how did I explain missing her tonight?
It didn’t much matter. Her look when she’d walked out today had said it all. She hated my guts. Good thing there hadn’t been any sharp objects within reach.
Chapter 12
Nicole
I gotup Tuesday morning almost as exhausted as when I’d climbed between the sheets. Even turning up my sound machine hadn’t drowned out the words that ran through my mind all night: “We sold the company. It was either that or pink slips all around.”Ernst’s words had stabbed me in the heart.
Lara had been right. I’d given him the benefit of the doubt too many times. This shitfest was entirely of his making. He’d refused to diversify our banking. And, to have his own stepdaughter arrested on embezzlement charges without any proof? Who could do that? I wasn’t sure fuckhead was strong enough for him.
Between being pissed at Ernst for selling out in the blink of an eye, it occurred to me while I was showering that Lara’s situation had taken a total backseat.
She was facing serious jail time—make that prison time—and I hadn’t given her a second thought last night. After reading the sale contract yesterday, Rossi’s had been my only focus. She deserved better from me—a lot better, after everything she’d been through—and I was determined to help with that.
I could still remember Lara’s face five years ago, the day she’d come running into the house after finding her boyfriend, Vern, stabbed to death in our orchard among the almond trees. She’d been covered in his blood, mumbling incoherently about how she shouldn’t have left him alone. The drinking that had followed that day, and led later to drugs, had turned into an out-of-control spiral for a while.
It had taken time, but I’d stuck with her and pushed her to get better. The second stint in rehab had held, and she’d improved tremendously since then. Until this latest brush with the law, she’d seemed to have finally gotten herself straightened out. The job at Rossi’s had provided focus and grounded her back in reality—a reality with a hopeful outlook. She hadn’t mentioned Vern in over a year.
Now, without that job, what pattern would she fall back into?
Brushing aside that concern for now, I checked myself in the mirror and went downstairs.
Echo came bounding out of his bed to greet me, but I pushed at his head and kept him at a distance. Yellow Labradors were great dogs, but the shedding was a constant battle. Echo gave up his quest for more pats and trotted out the doggy door. Chasing squirrels and digging would be more fun than we were likely to be.
I’d be going into the Rossi’s office for the last time today. A chat with Rosa, sign a few papers, and that portion of my life would be over.
* * *
The building was remarkablyquiet when I arrived. People were at their desks with their heads down, working—none of the usual early-morning conversations I was accustomed to. They were probably putting on a good show for the new boss, either that or scared shitless that the monster in the corner office would reorganize them all out of a job.
Ernst’s nameplate had already been removed from beside his door, and it now read Josh Benson. The door was open. I backtracked to make the approach to my office from a different angle, so I wouldn’t be seen by Benson.
Having him know I was here was not on my wish list for today. It took a moment to locate the file in my desk with the stupid non-compete document Ernst had made us all sign. “It’s what all the big companies do,” he’d said. Ten minutes of arguing about the value of the practice had gone nowhere, and I’d signed, along with everyone else. It had been the price that day of getting him out of my,ourhair. Things always ran smoother when he wasn’t around.
I’d never been able to predict whether on any individual day he’d be in a questioning mood, which slowed us down minimally, or wanting to be “helpful” with the stupidest ideas this side of Jupiter. Those days were harder because it took more time to stop stupid than it did to answer dumb.
Someone knocked on my door before I got a chance to read the file.
“Come in,” I called.
It was Josh. He waltzed in and sat across from me with a smile. “I’m glad you changed your mind about staying.”
I held up a hand to stop him. “I didn’t.”
His eyes narrowed, and he nodded thoughtfully. “Hmm… This office is reserved for the COO. I guess I’m going to have to charge you rent if you still want to use it.”
“Very funny. I only came in for my exit interview.”
“We really could use your help.”
“I’m sure a smart USC grad from a big conglomerate like Benson Corp. can handle a tiny little backwater company such as this with one arm tied behind your back.”
He grinned. “Nicole, I think I need the help of a Stanford grad.”
