Page 36 of Apparently, I’m A B!tch

“For Nikki? Huh.” Her brows shot up as she appraised me, her gaze speculative and off-putting. “I’ll see if she’s free. Your name, please?”

I swallowed; my mouth suddenly dry. “Tristan.”

She nodded and picked up the desk phone as I clutched the bag tighter, sweat beading the back of my neck despite the rigid chill of the room.

She put the phone back down and nudged her head. “This way.”

I nodded and kept my glance down as I moved through the office, through an alleyway of suit-clad people who stopped and stared, muttering to themselves as I passed. I guess Nikki didn’t get many visitors who weren’t clients.

We reached a glass door with Nikki’s full name on it: Nikki Gataki. I narrowed my glance at her surname. It meant kitten in Greek. Nikki was anything but a kitten. Her family name was something that didn’t fit her. Looking around this cold and sterile office, I decided it didn’t fit her either.

Nikki’s quiet “Come in” floated through the frosted glass and I straightened, a new heat rampaging its way through me as Sharon opened the door.

I went in and the door shut behind me as Nikki jumped up from her desk. She had two bright spots of color on her cheeks, her hair ruffled and pushed back from her face, two buttons undone on the cream sleeveless blouse that was tucked into a black, skin-tight pencil skirt.

The look on her face threw me, prompting me to ask, “Sharon told you I was here, didn’t she?”

She shook her head, eyes wide. “No. Kelly might’ve let her know that I was free… but they didn’t tell me who was coming.”

I said, “Ah,” and nodded once. A stab at Nikki from Kelly, maybe? In any case, it was really nice to see Nikki as uneasy as I was, even if I was the one who started this.

I looked her up and down once more, watching the color deepen on her cheeks. I bit my lower lip and felt the need to apologize. “Sorry. I know I’m not meant to stare, but you look really good.”

Good was an understatement. She looked like a gift I wanted to unwrap. All those curves bound in a touchable fabric… her smooth skin just below that thin layer. It was enough to make my brain short-circuit at the sight of her like this.

She flushed, took in a breath and straightened. “It’s been really hot lately…” Her gaze dropped to the items in my hand. “Are those for me?”

I looked down at the things I held, then thrust them in front of me. “You haven’t been coming in, so I thought I’d bring them to you.”

Damn, this was awkward. She didn’t move to take them from me, instead she patted her hair and turned to the two uncomfortable-looking chairs in front of her desk. “Do you want to sit?”

I started to shake my head. Sitting was not going to help with all the nervous energy building inside of me. Pacing might’ve been a better offer. But I thought better of it and came closer, putting the bag on her desk and the coffee on a coaster before I sat down.

“This is nice.” It was my first time in here. After Nikki left our coffee shop to work at L&K, I waited for an invitation to check out her office, but it never came. After all the stories she told me about Harvey, Jake and Kelly, I understood. She preferred to spend her time out of this room when she wasn’t working, and I never questioned it.

She sat down on the other guest chair and faced me. “Thanks, but it’s pretty bare. The last time mama was in here she shook her head and told me: Nikki, is so boring. Make it pop.” She let out a nervous laugh, and her imitation of her mother’s accent made me smile.

“It’s great you get so much space to yourself. You know what the coffee shop is like. I can’t get Lilly or Shawn out of my face for a whole minute until it closes. A space like this would be great.”

She braced her elbows on her knees, clasping her hands together. “How are they, anyway?”

I shrugged. “They’re good. The same. Lilly’s still angry at me, but that’s nothing new.” She lowered her eyes, and I wanted to take her chin and lift it so she would have to let me look at her, but I kept my hands to myself and took a breath. “If… on Monday, if I said anything to upset you, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. I miss you.”

Her blush deepened as she shook her head, still keeping her gaze glued to the desk in front of us. “It’s not that. I’m not mad at you or anything. Not anymore. I’ve been so busy trying to get things in line for this case and I haven’t been able to take a break.”

I shrugged, not sure she was telling me the truth, which was worryingly out of character for Nikki. But if she couldn’t tell me how she really felt just now, what else could I do but accept it?

“If you can’t take a break, I’ll bring the break to you.” Her lips curved and I counted it as a win. “I’ve got all this shaabiyat in my shop, and no one around to eat it.”

She rolled her eyes, but her smile was bright as she looked up, taking my bait. For years, Nikki insisted the shaabiyat was actually baklava. I was sure it was a fact she would argue until she was blue in the face: she did it enough times in the past.

She was wrong, but I loved watching her try to prove her point. “You know it’s a baklava, Tristan. My mother makes it with cheese too. If it wasn’t a Greek dessert, believe me, she’d never have made it in the first place.”

I laughed and shook my head. “It’s actually a Lebanese dessert. Trust me, I’d know.”

She closed an eye and leaned over the arm of her chair. “We’ve been over this, Tristy. It’s Greek. The Greek’s came up with everything, so even if your country claimed it, the Greeks made it first. It’s like the Giro. The Greeks did it first, not the Turkish.”

I let out a single bark of laughter and said, “Google it and we’ll see who’s right.” She was never able to find a piece of evidence to prove the shaabiyat was actually a Greek dessert before, but it didn’t stop her from trying.