Solving For Nic (8 page)

No, he’d been at a loose end. She’d been a bridesmaid. One of her favorite movies claimed bridesmaids always got sex.

It was casual, post-wedding bridesmaid sex, or worse, forgettable sex for him while she couldn’t think of anything else. Until now, because she was officially over him. She intended to power watch Richard Curtis rom coms until she didn’t cry when Mathew gave Gareth’s eulogy or when Anna asked William to love her.

Done.

Rogan answered on the first ring.

“I need a favor,” she said without any sort of preamble. “Can I borrow your condo for a few days and could you not tell anyone?”

“Why? Did—”

“Or ask any questions.”

He was quiet for a minute. “You’re welcome to the condo but I have a better idea.”

“Doubtful.” Because nothing sounded better than a few days alone at the beach with DVDs and magic cookie dough ice cream. Well, maybe if Jen came but she couldn’t ask her.

“The Miami Maretti Resort’s grand opening is this weekend. Nic’s out of the country so I have to do the final walk-through with the contractors and inspectors. The party will be huge, kiddo. There’ll be dancing.”

A huge dance party? In Miami? And no danger of running into Nic. Sold.

“I’m in.” Then reality tapped her on the shoulder. “Wait. What about Angie?”

“She’s already in Miami.”

A chill danced across her shoulders. “Rogan, did something happen? You guys seemed to be getting along at the wedding.”

“Yeah, well…” He cleared his throat. “I thought so too until she went back to Miami and took Zachary with her.”

“If you show up with me in Miami, it’s not going to help things. She hates me.”

“She doesn’t hate you.”

“Are you crazy? She totally hates me and she’s going to freak out if I walk in with you.”

“Maybe I want her to freak out.”

“Yeah, but—”

“Lizzie, I don’t want to walk into that party by myself but I can’t take a date, now can I? Come with me. You’ll have fun and I’ll get a shot at bringing her back home without having to crawl on my knees. Which is what she fucking wants.”

He sounded desperate which surprised her but she couldn’t imagine her big Cajun begging for anything on his knees. Angie needed to wake up and realize she was going to push Rogan too far.

“Okay,” Lizzie agreed, ignoring the warning pinging along her nerve endings. She would go and dance and have a great time and it might be good if Angie got jealous for a change. Maybe she’d appreciate Rogan more. Fight for him.

Lizzie smiled for the first time in days. She was definitely going to need a great dress.

The cell phone buzzed again, and Nic’s heart skipped a beat although he knew there was no way it was the call he wouldn’t admit he wanted to receive.

He took his time setting the fishing rod in the holder and pulled the phone out of his pocket. The sun was high and bright today. Blue skies, fluffy clouds, and the water was so still it mirrored the sky. It was a perfect day to be on his boat, but he'd stayed in his pier. He’d been too restless to take his boat out.

“Your sister called,” Pam announced without any sort of preamble when Nic called her back.

“This is news?” The ice chest creaked as he opened the lid and grabbed a bottled water. “She’s been calling me too, but I’m in Hong Kong, remember?”

He shut the lid then sat down on the ice chest as Pam snorted her disapproval. He scanned the empty horizon, refusing to notice the water was the same color as Lizzie’s eyes. “I’ll call her,” he relented.

“And Marcy?”

He flinched at the name. Not one of his finer moments. “Yeah, that’s done too.”

“I know, I’ve been on the phone with her all morning too. I think you hurt her, Nic.”

He shuddered at the memory. He didn’t like crying women. He also didn’t like feeling like a total bastard, the way he always did when they realized he’d been serious when he’d said he wasn’t looking for the future Mrs. Maretti.

Marcy had been the full package of everything he didn’t want in a relationship. He should have seen it sooner and left her alone. He’d been off his game. Still angry about waking up alone in his hotel suite and angrier about bailing out Maretti Oil. He’d delayed his trip to Hong Kong and gone to the Keys instead. He’d wanted to get his head straight first, but he was surrounded by water that had once soothed him for the same reason he now wanted to drain the Gulf of Mexico dry.

“Aren’t you tired of all this serial monogamy? It’s not like you don’t know who you want, Nic. You’ve known for the last four years. Now that I’ve seen her I get—”

“Two words. Severance. Package.”

“Oh, good,” Pam shot back. “I've been meaning to ask for a raise.”

He covered his eyes with his hand and pressed his fingers and thumb into his temples. He would never fire her. They both knew it. She ran his companies like a well-oiled machine and she was one of the few people in the world Nic trusted. They'd met each other in the principal’s office in seventh grade. Nic for beating up the school bully and Pam for making her English teacher cry. They'd been friends ever since. Now she made sure he could avoid Houston and people as much as possible. No one got to him without going through Pam.

But Lizzie was not something Nic was prepared to discuss with Pam. He wasn’t ready to discuss Lizzie with anyone. He wouldn’t know where to start.

Pam broke the brief silence first. “No more beauty queens, Nic. They don’t take rejection well.”

“Fine, send her something pretty. A bracelet.”

Pam sighed. “That’s been taken care of. I had a bracelet and tangerine roses on standby after your second dinner date.”

“Tangerine is pretty specific.”

“She’d already started pinning wedding place settings and bridesmaids’ dresses.”

Nic’s brain shut off at bridesmaids. “If you’re going to stalk my girlfriends’ social media, you could at least give me a heads-up before they flake out on me.”

She laughed. “You don’t need a heads-up. Your anti-commitment radar works fine on its own and honestly, your heart wasn’t in it this time.”

“My heart is never in it. That’s the point.”

“I’ll take care of Marcy but you need to call Angie. Her last phone call was hysterical. Apparently, Rogan is going to Miami and he’s not alone this time.”

“What?” Nic choked on the word. “Not alone? What the hell does that mean?”

“I’m not sure. She was crying. None of it made sense. Maybe you should go to the grand opening after all.”

Nic groaned and wiped his hand across his face. “Fine, I’ll drive in tomorrow.”

“You need to call her,” Pam insisted. “This was not her usual melodrama. Something is wrong.”

He ended the call only to have the Rolling Stones start singing “Angie” on his phone. He’d forgotten to change the ringtone again. His sister had programmed it in months ago as a joke. She thought it was funny, but it was getting old. He was always so relieved when their conversations ended he forgot to change the ringtone back.

As soon as the call connected, there was a gulp, a sniff and a ragged intake of air.

“Don’t cry, I’m coming to Miami. Now, tell me what’s going on.”

She choked on a sob. “We got into a huge fight and I…”

Angie lost the battle with her tears. They were authentic sinus-blocking tears of a devastated woman with a broken heart.

Nic closed his eyes, wishing he could make all this go away. “Do you want to tell me what the fight was about?”

“It’s always the same thing. He spends all his time with his friends. If it’s not Stefan and Jen, it’s Lizzie…”

“Lizzie?” he echoed, his mental clamp creaking as he refused to let images of long lustrous curls form in his mind. “For the last time, Rogan is not cheating on you with Lizzie. She’s like his sister.”

“She’s here in Miami with him and trust me, I know you think I’m crazy but there’s something going on between them.”

Nic froze, the hairs on his arms and neck standing up without warning. Lizzie was in Miami? He stared out to sea, not seeing anything but he could feel her. Taste her skin. The sound of his name on her breath. A low ache started deep inside him and the craving fired up again as his body flat refused to care that she’d walked out on him. No, it wanted who it wanted and she was in Miami.

Less than an hour and a half away.

“I’ll be there tonight. Stop worrying. If there is something going on, I’ll deal with it.”

“Okay, Nic, thank you.” Then she added, “
Ti voglio bene.
”

Nic was on his feet, reeling in the line and tossing the custom-made rod and reel onto the deck of his boat without thinking. He didn’t believe for a second anything was going on between Rogan and Lizzie. They’d known each other all their lives. It made no sense.

As hot water rushed over him in the shower, he couldn’t wait to see her. Would she try to explain why she left? Would he care?

Lizzie did another sweep of the crowded ballroom, before turning back to Rogan. “Did you see her? She’s over by the bar.”

She’d caught a glimpse of Angie earlier, but it was hard to see anything in the throng of people.

“Do you think she saw us?”

Rogan shook his head in indulgent disbelief. “Lizzie, everyone saw us.”

She sipped her champagne, her eyes wandering across the room full of glittering people, and gold, aqua and pink lanterns gave the whole atmosphere an early sixties vibe. She had to hand it to Angie. The other girl might be a total bitch but she knew how to throw a party. Beautiful people lounged on low leather sofas and sipped martinis. Lizzie expected Don Draper and Roger Sterling to walk in at any time. The entire hotel was a midcentury modern dream come true.

“Where did you say you got that dress again?” Rogan asked.

“Don't you like it?” she asked, twisting so the sequins danced.

“Too much.” Rogan shook his head again.

It was a scandalous dress. It had taken her two glasses of champagne to stop feeling so exposed in it. It wasn’t too short but the red dress slithered down her body like liquid fire and the sunburst pattern of gold sequins flared whenever she moved. She’d found it in one of the resort’s outrageous boutiques. It was the first time she’d ever used her Amex. Her father was going to choke when he got the statement. He’d given it to her five years ago and she’d made up for five years with one dress and a pair of wicked shoes. The shoes were totally worth it.

She sipped more champagne and did her best Scarlett O’Hara impersonation. She was good at worrying about things tomorrow. Living in the now. And right now, she was determined to make Angie Rogan fight for her husband. Maybe she’d finally appreciate what a great guy Rogan was if she had some competition. Angie believed Lizzie harbored a secret love for Rogan and any day Lizzie would snap her fingers and Rogan would come crawling to her.

She dragged Rogan back onto the dance floor and put the red dress to work. Rogan was a better dancer than he thought, but even he couldn’t keep up with Lizzie tonight. He caught her around the waist and pulled her up against his side. “Are you having fun yet?” He grinned. The devil knew exactly what she was doing and had decided to play along.

Rogan was spinning her again when she stumbled then leaned into him for real.

Nic.

Nic was not supposed to be here.

She swallowed hard and glanced back around again to make sure she hadn't imagined him.

No. There he was. In the flesh.

And pretty spectacular flesh.

Lizzie's whole body reacted at once. Chaos zinged through her as memories of him crashed back down on her without warning. She’d had too much champagne but she couldn’t wait to get another glass.

“There she is. In the red dress.”

Nic turned in the direction his sister indicated and scanned the crowd. It took less than half a second for him to spot the girl clinging to his brother-in-law’s arm. Nic struggled for a second to keep his breathing easy. Her burnt red dress skimmed every curve of her small but perfect shape. The dress was covered in gold sequins that caught the light as she moved. Long loose curls spilled all around her shoulders and down her back. Her hair should have clashed with the slinky dress. Instead, she was a smoldering red coal reaching its peak temperature. His eyes narrowed on the slim fingers clinging to Rogan’s arm as Rogan swung her around.