Part 26 (1/2)

Nick shrugged off her hand and went back into his office. He heard footsteps behind him. He should have known better than to think Lois would let this drop. d.a.m.n, he was not in the mood to discuss his private life with his secretary.

”You know, if you tell her everything, there's a chance she might forgive you and take you back. Personally, I'd start with telling her who you are. I mean, allowing her to believe you're the service manager is almost understandable, especially with your track record with women.”

Nick chose not to mention that he suspected Rosalie knew who he was from the beginning. ”What's that supposed to mean?”

”Nick, as long as I've known you, you've only dated plastic, shallow, money-hungry women. They've never lasted more than a month. I'm sure if you come clean with Rosalie before you get caught in your lies, she'll understand why you didn't correct her false a.s.sumption. Especially if you tell her the truth.”

”The truth?”

”Yes. She was the first genuine woman you've met in years, and you were afraid she wouldn't agree to see you if she knew your history with her brother.”

”I was not afraid.”

”Fine. Call it whatever your fragile male ego can live with.

Now, (he rest is going to be more difficult You need to make sure she understands that you'd fallen in love with her long before you were aware of her position with Premier.” ”What?”

”You heard me. Telling her that you love her will take the sting out of it.”

Great, first Vinny, now Lois. ”But I don't.” ”Don't what?” ”I don't love her.”

Lois looked up at him. ”Oh, G.o.d. What is it with men?” Then she nailed him with her 'don't mess with me' glare. ”You honestly believe you're not in love with Rosalie?”

”Lois, you know me. I don't do love.”

”You don't, huh? I guess you bring Dave here for your health. And Ty-you don't love him? He means nothing to you?”

”Hold on. Ty has nothing to do with this.”

'There's your mother, your grandmother, Vinny and his family, me and Tyler, Dave. Don't you see? You take care of the people you love. You're not good with the words, but your actions-they tell the real story. I knew you were in love with Rosalie as soon as I heard you had taken her to see Mike. When was the last time you made a doctor's appointment for one of your girlfriends?”

”Lois, I like Lee. She's a friend.” Nick twirled his pen through his fingers. ”But I don't love her.”

A knock on the door interrupted Nick's explanation, which was a good thing, because he'd run out of reasons he didn't love Rosalie-he just didn't, that's all there was to it.

Lois shook her head and reached for the door. Good, she was finished telling him how he felt. Women. They think they know everything. Before she opened the door, she turned. s.h.i.+t.

He took a deep breath and waited for the final blow.

”Nick, I'm warning you. If you let Rosalie go, you'll spend the rest of your life regretting it. Don't you see how lucky you are? This could very well be a once in a lifetime chance at true love. Don't let it go without a fight, because you're too stupid and closed-minded to admit the truth. You are not your father. Get over it already.”

Nick was happy to hear the door slam behind her. Thank G.o.d that was over. He signed the letters, threw them in his out-box, and waited for Ty to bring Dave back. He wanted to go home, spend the night with Rosalie, hold her, make love to her, and ignore the internal countdown to his own personal D-day.

When Rosalie entered the apartment, everything looked the same as it had that morning, but it felt different. It felt like it had before she'd met Nick, only cleaner.

She shrugged off her coat, threw it on the couch, and sat on it. Nick had his running shoes placed neatly by the front door. The Frisbee he'd bought for Dave leaned against the wall in front of them. Nick's Polar fleece running jacket dangled on the hook next to where Dave's leash usually hung. His cell phone charger was on the buffet. He'd put it next to hers and neatly stowed all the cords. Everywhere she looked, Nick was there.

Rosalie had come home early, because she needed to change for her meeting with Mr. La.s.siter Sr. She'd never been to the Harvard Club, but knew her dress-down, Friday business-casual garb wouldn't exactly blend. She started stripping on the way to the bedroom and threw her clothes on the bed. Opening the closet, she picked out her best suit with the matching silk sh.e.l.l. Nick's clothes hung beside hers. His shoes were placed on the floor like little soldiers all lined up. She pulled on her skirt, stepped into her lucky shoes, turned, and faced the bed. The book Nick had been reading lay on the bedside table on his side of the bed. Oh, G.o.d. When had that become his side? When had they chosen sides? Rosalie slipped the sh.e.l.l over her head and shrugged into her jacket before sinking onto the bedspread of the expertly made bed. She opened the drawer, and sure enough, everything in there was Nick's. He'd moved in. They were living together. When had that happened?

She was living... h.e.l.l, who was she kidding? She was in love with a man who'd spent their entire relations.h.i.+p lying to her. All this time, she'd kept telling herself he was lying about his ident.i.ty because of his money, when from the get-go, she'd been nothing but a cog in the wheel of a master plan to take over Premier Motorcars. Shack up with the interim CFO and have all the information you need at your fingertips. G.o.d only knew what he'd learned. All those nights she'd brought home her computer, her files, Premier's financials. How could he do this to her?

Nick came home and vacuumed the living room. He'd had a miserable day at work, trying to figure out what to say to Rosalie.

He considered kidnapping her. He could get her in his car with Dave and come clean going eighty miles an hour down the Long Island Expressway. But with his luck, they'd get stuck in Friday traffic, and he wouldn't put it past Rosalie to get out and tell him to go screw himself. No, that wasn't a good plan. Even if she did calm down by the time they got to the beach house, the glitz of the Hamptons might be too much of a shock.

Maybe he should take her to his brownstone. At least it was close to what she knew. No. He didn't want to look like he was trying to buy forgiveness, and his place was a little over-the-top. He should never have let what's-her-name decorate it. Sure, he'd hired her to decorate before he slept with her, but as soon as they'd started sleeping together, she acted as if she were decorating her future home. At least she had good taste. Expensive, but good. Now, instead of a home, he lived in a showplace. Not that he spent much time there.

He looked around Rosalie's apartment. Here, he felt comfortable, at home. That settled it. He'd stay put and talk to her. He'd tell her everything, and if he lived through the aftermath, maybe she'd forgive him. Then they could... what? He didn't know. Keep doing whatever it was they were doing.

Dave kicked his food bowl. The poor guy was hungry. Nick looked at his watch. s.h.i.+t, it was six-thirty. No wonder Dave complained. Nick fed the dog and checked the answering machine and his cell phone for messages. Nothing.

He went to vacuum the bedroom and saw the disaster. Rosalie had come home and gone out again. She usually left him a note or told him what was going on, but for some reason, she hadn't.

He settled in to wait for her. She was always home by eight.

Nick put away the clothes Rosalie threw on the bed and started cleaning the bathroom. He checked his watch. It was almost nine.

Worry set in. He chided himself about it, but he couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. He called her cell phone and left a message on her voice mail.

Nick opened the refrigerator and grabbed a beer. He took the bottle opener out of the drawer and his favorite mug out of the freezer and poured the beer before making himself a sandwich. He ate his sandwich at the counter and began cleaning the kitchen. After a few minutes, Dave whined, went through the living room, and lay down beside the door. Even the dog knew something was wrong.

It was ten when Nick started fighting panic. He'd run out of things to clean. If something had happened to Rosalie, no one would know to call him. He went to her desk where she kept her address book and thought about calling her parents, but what would he say? ”Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Ronaldi, it's Dominick Romeo. Yeah, that's me, the one who got your son arrested. Well, I've been seeing your daughter, and she's missing. Do you know where she is?” That would go over real well.

He'd call her friends, except for one problem. He didn't know any of her friends. How could he have been with her for so long and never have met her friends? The only one she had spoken of was Gina. That was it. He'd call Gina. Gina knew him.

Nick didn't know Gina's last name, so he went through every name in Rosalie's address book until he came to Gina's. He felt three times a fool when he dialed the number, but it was either that or start calling hospitals.

”h.e.l.lo?” barked the man who answered. Man, if his voice matched his body, Nick wouldn't want to run into him in a dark alley.

”h.e.l.lo. I'm sorry to bother you so late, but is Gina there?”

”Who wants to know?”

”Dominick Romeo. I'm a friend of Rosalie Ronaldi's. Is Gina there?”

”Yeah, hang on.” Nick heard him knock on a door, then the sound of a hand going over the mouthpiece.

”h.e.l.lo?”

”Gina?”

”Yeah, who's this?”

”Gina, it's Nick. I'm sorry to call so late, but Lee isn't home, and she's always home by now. I'm worried about her. Do you know where she is?”

”Did you try her cell phone?”

”Christ, Gina, of course I tried her cell. Voice mail picks up. She always leaves a note when she goes out. She didn't leave one tonight. She didn't call to say she'd be late.”

”Okay, calm down. She probably went out with friends or something. Did you try her parents?”