Zenith Falling (10 page)

“Do you want to come in?” Joelle asked when they arrived at her house.

Nick glanced over at
her, his eyebrows raised. He’d just pulled his car to the curb and his mouth tightened. He didn’t want to come in; but he would. That’s the kind of man he was. She licked her lips and attempted a smile. “Come on, I won’t take offense at your reaction. The house has gone beyond disgusting to near hazardous.”

“How do you stand it if you hate it so much?”

“I’m not here very much anymore. That helps. I spend a lot of time in our room, which is not like the rest of it.”

“Do you ever get tired of hiding from your own house?” Nick muttered as he opened his car door and got out.

“Yes,” she whispered, but he was already out of his car and didn’t hear her.

The front doorknob was busted, and no key was even needed. Anyone could walk in. Anyone could already be in there. Nick sigh
ed as he shook his head. He would do more than just sigh when he beheld the conditions under which she lived. She moved down the hallway, clicking the lights to the living room and kitchen on as she went. Sensing Nick’s presence, with a nearly physical awareness in her skin, almost as if he were touching her, Joelle had to turn around to make sure he wasn’t. He did nothing more than stand there politely, quietly, looking around. He was silent for several long moments as he observed the sheer volume of neglect and disarray he saw in the house she called home. His gaze finally landed on her, long and searching. She raised her eyes to meet his.

“How old are you Joelle? Twenty-four?”

“Twenty-three. Why?”

“That young? Funny, but you seem too old for this, or too young, I’m not sure which.”

She didn’t know what he meant. He was looking at the table covered in junk food, empty beer bottles, and full ashtrays.

“What do you mean by that?”

His eyes returned to her face, as he waved his hand towards the room. “You could be experiencing these years as fun, having the time of your life, being carefree, with no responsibilities. Drinking, drugs, whatever you want. But you don’t, do you, Joelle? You work your ass off to keep your head slightly above water. You live like this because you have no choice, not because you want to. You seem too old for this because you expect more from your life, but too young because you’re so naive and fail to see what’s plain to anyone else.”

“Which is what?”

“That you’re not meant for this.”

Her head jerked back at his words.
His voice was intense, serious, but his tone was gentle and soft, as if to buffer the effect of his harsh observations.

“Doesn’t mean I don’t want to be married to Rob.”

He sighed, putting his hands in his pockets as he turned away from her. She couldn’t see his facial expression. “No, it doesn’t mean that.”

After a moment, she asked,
“How old are you, Nick? Thirty?”

“Five. Thirty-five.”

She started at hearing that. They were twelve years apart? She never realized he was quite that old. Mid-thirties. She studied his back for a moment. He looked it: responsible, powerful, confident and intimidating. Even his damn gaze looked strong and sure, and his tone always commanding.

“Rob’s twenty-seven years old this year. That’s why not having found success by now is so hard for him. He’s been at this a long time. A decade longer than I have. And so you see
–”

Nick spun around.
“What? What do I see? Why he feels the need to drink so much that he makes you go to secret Al-Anon meetings? Why his feelings of frustration make that okay? Never mind that you’re drowning in his lifestyle?”

“I wouldn’t go that far. I’ve only had a tough time recently.”

“That’s your problem. Enabling him. Living in denial and not admitting the truth.”

“Which is what? What truth do you think you know about me?”

“Hanging around, waiting for Rob to make it isn’t enough for you anymore. Your husband is perfectly capable of working a regular paying job, while trying to make the band famous. He doesn’t have to keep living off you like this if it’s so hard on you.”

“But he likes it.”

“Of course he does. That’s why it works so well, right? He’s perfectly happy, creating his songs and music, all the while living the lifestyle
he
chooses. He leaves you to do all the boring stuff, like work and stress, and paying the bills. You deserve more.”

“I will as soon as
–”

“As soon as Rob makes it. I heard that. But please
, explain to me why he can’t do a little more for you now?”

She dropped her eyes to avoid his angry, narrowed gaze.
“Quit pressing this. You don’t understand me. Us. Our lives. Just please stop.” She turned away, leaning her hands on the counter, and gripping it to steady herself.

Nick verbalized some of the things she often thought.
But she would betray her husband if she were to admit them to Nick. However, the sympathy Nick felt for her, and the way he so clearly saw her, and her situation, was as refreshing as a cool breeze in the desert. Rob merely shrugged off her exhaustion with a hug, as if that would make it all better. Lately, it didn’t help at all anymore.

“Why do you care
?” she whispered. “Why do you care if I’m happy or not? What do you want from me?”

Nick sighed, shaking his head
. “Nothing. I don’t want anything from you. But you don’t seem to understand that. Just here… take this.”

She
took the business card he held for her, and their fingertips brushed. It vibrated from her fingers, to her hand, up her arm and into a hot mass of nerves in her guts. She withdrew quickly as if he’d just shocked her.
What the hell was that?
He simply dropped his hand, seemingly unaffected by their touch.

She swallowed in confusion, and finally glanced at the card.

“It’s directions to my penthouse, from the office. If you ever need a place to go. If you’re ever in trouble, go there. Anytime. Night or day.”

“Trouble?
” Her eyebrows furrowed. “I’m not in any kind of trouble.”

“I said in case. Just keep it. No harm comes from having a backup plan.”

“I don’t understand what you’re getting at.”

“I know you don’t. But I see a situation here that could easily escalate to places you don’t want it to
, lots of guys, lots of drugs and alcohol. And you want it all to slow down, if not stop altogether.”

“What are you saying? Rob would never do anything to hurt me.”

He nodded. “Good. That’s really good to know.”

“You don’t sound even remotely convinced.”

“I’m not. You are. I just want to make sure you know where to find help if you ever need it.”

“I’m not one of your sisters; you
needn’t worry about me.”

He snorted.
“No, I needn’t. But I do.”

“Is that what you think of me? As some kind of little sister?”

He paused and waited, before finally nodding. “Yeah, something like that.”

Joelle sagged with relief. That was okay, wasn’t it? If Nick thought of her
like his little sister, then she wasn’t doing anything wrong. She and Nick weren’t even friends. They were more like family friends or something. Who could object to that? She slipped Nick’s card into her pocket as a concession to him. Fine. She’d take his unsolicited concern as it was intended.

Just then, they were interrupted by the sound of voices and footsteps. The front door slammed open and the house suddenly
flooded with people, streaming into the hall, the kitchen, the dining room, and jammed right in the middle of the crowd was Rob. Joelle was startled. She did not expect them to come back here, much less, with half the crowd from the club in tow. It wasn’t long before loud music was slamming through the house. Joelle was pushed right into Nick. His arms went under hers to steady her, and catch her. They stared at each other, and her eyes widened in shock. His face was mere inches from hers, and his gaze was riveted on her.

As she stared at him, only a breath away, she straightened her legs, and pulled her arms from his hands. He leaned down to speak into her ear, and his breath was warm on the side of her face. She shivered at the barely-there contact.
“You going to get in trouble because I’m here?”

“Rob knew you were driving me home.”

Nick gave her a look. Did he think that she lied to Rob about him? That would mean Nick was something more than he was, or something threatening to Rob, which he wasn’t. She was firm on that. Rob found her. His arm came around her, and his posture was sloppy, as he leaned on her, nearly fondling her small breast through her top. Nick’s gaze was on them, especially on Rob’s hand. She wished Rob would stop and stand up to shake hands with Nick. She wished Rob would stop acting like a drunken eighteen-year-old, trying to cop a feel. But Rob was drunk and acting just like a juvenile.

“I thought you were going out. Why did this all end up here?”

“Nowhere elsh to party, baby. Why not here?”

“Yeah
, of course,” Joelle mumbled, then added louder, “Rob, you remember Nick. He gave me a ride home.”

“Yeah
, sure. That your car out there? It’sh shomething,” he slurred.

“Thanks. I was just leaving.”

“Yeah, man, shee ya.”

Rob turned back to Joelle, kissing her,
before sauntering off. Nick turned away. Somehow, Nick witnessing more of her chaotic life wasn’t how she wanted the night to end. He was already heading out the front door. She pushed through people, all of them strangers, to get to him. She was almost frantic to reach the yard before Nick pulled away.

“Nick, wait,” she yelled.

He stopped and looked back at her. “What?”

She
was startled by the vehemence of her voice. She stopped at once. Why did she yell so frantically after him? Her heart was beating fast. She didn’t want Nick to leave. She didn’t want Nick to pull away, and leave her there.
In this house. At this party. In this life
.

But she couldn’t do that. She couldn’t say any of that. So instead, she smiled weakly, and said, “I wanted you to know I appreciate it. Your concern. But I’m okay. Really.”

He stared at her across the weed-filled lawn, and glanced at the house, pulsating behind her. He looked up and down the street, and then sighed. “If you’re so okay, do yourself a favor and start acting like it.”

He turned and went to his car in several long strides.
He looked at her again, his gaze dark, angry. What was that expression he gave her? Why should he be angry with her? Then his car engine purred and he pulled away. What did she do to make Nick get so annoyed at her? And why did her heart drop when she saw his taillights disappearing around the corner? Why did she suddenly feel bereft, and all alone? How could the disappearance of Nick’s car make her feel more alone than she could remember ever feeling? She slowly turned, her hands in her pockets, her head down and trudged back into her house.

Nick
was glad when he didn’t see Joelle over the next few weeks. There was nothing he could do for her. She was in denial about what she wanted and what her husband was. She was in denial that she didn’t like her life, or her marriage. But hell, what was he supposed to do about that? Change her mind?

Then one day, she walked into a
staff meeting, pad and paper in hand. There were some twenty people or so in the conference room, and she slid into a chair at the back of the group, far away from him at the head of the conference room table. She wore black pants, an almost feminine blouse, and her usual tight, knot of hair. She didn’t quite fit in with the rest of the workers. She was a little too made up, her outfit a little too dark, and her hair a little too harsh.

There was nothing about Joelle that was his type. She wasn’t corporate, professional, stylish, or even remotely feminine or seductive. But still, he watched her. Noticed her.
He was conscious of when she fidgeted, when she crossed her legs, or adjusted her notepad. He knew when she was taking notes, or when she was listening. She was probably there at Steve Applebaum’s urging. Steve had recently increased Joelle’s workload as well as her salary.

Nick sat at the head of the conference table, surrounded by his most senior, trusted staff, while listening in rote to the normal dealings of the monthly meeting: budgetary stuff, problems, concerns, news, all of it was presented to him. He was comfortable in charge of a large group, being sought for
answers, decisions, and final approvals. It came easy to him. It was less than interesting anymore. Until Joelle walked in. Suddenly, it was very interesting to him to sit in there, while discreetly stealing glances at her. What did she think of this? Did she hate it? The corporate-ness of it? The claustrophobia of an office, the mundaneness of paperwork and staff meetings. Yet, to his continued surprised, she seemed to like the environment her looks suggested she should hate. She seemed to be satisfied working there.

“Mr. Lassiter, what do you think?”

Nick turned towards Miles Standley who was head of technology. He worked on and regularly updated the vast computer systems the company used. He was brilliant on the computers, but still not as good as Nick. No one was. But he couldn’t do it all, so he had to delegate some of it out.

“What do I think of what?” Nick asked, not bothering to pretend he was listening.

“A request for new monitors was put in by the entire Accounting department. They want bigger screens.”

“Fine.”

“Really? Just like that?”

“That’s what I said.”

“Thanks
, sir.”

Nick leaned back in his chair again and observed the room as the meeting continued. Suddenly, he snapped to attention when an item caught his attention.

“What do you mean Wilson was talking to Susan Gellons?” Nick asked, frowning at Brittany Snow, head of public relations. Fred Wilson was one of Nick’s key hackers, and an employee he trusted. To hear he was talking to Susan Gellons, one of the business world’s most curious and investigative reporters, got Nick’s attention.

“Well
, he claims they are friends from college. But–”

“Fire him.”

“Mr. Lassiter, I don’t think that’s really necessary yet. We should definitely look into it, but maybe he is–”

“I don’t care if they played in diapers together, Ms. Snow, I don’t need Wilson consorting with Su
san Gellons. He can talk to her all he likes, but not with my company as his topic.”

There was startled shuffling
and murmurs in the room. He glared around the table. What didn’t employees get about
no
media contacts? No interviews. Nothing that would shed light on who or what
Next Generation
consulted on. And if they needed a reminder just how serious that rule was, this would be a good one. It was completely non-negotiable.

Nick
glanced to the back of the room, and Joelle’s face paled. He tightened his jaw. She didn’t have a damn clue what he was like. He was not always Trina’s nice, caring older brother. Computer geek that she used to think he was, she didn’t see him like that now: a very abrasive, business-minded, profit-seeking CEO who made a fortune by the age of thirty. Apparently, he’d done it all at the expense of others, his personal life, or by being nice and understanding. He considered himself fair. Sometimes he went out on a limb for employees whom he thought had proven their worth and loyalty. Above all, he demanded total confidentiality and trust.

The room went
quiet as a result of the furious look on his face. He had to force himself to relax. He started to turn towards the CFO when a voice interrupted him.

“Isn’t that a bit harsh? Firing someone before you know for sure if he’s done something wrong?”

Joelle.
She was standing up and questioning
him
. Nick glared at her, more surprised than anything else that she’d dare to speak up in a room full of people; people who far outranked her on the corporate ladder. He had a feeling that if Joelle looked around, and noticed all the eyes now fastened on her, she’d probably lose her nerve. There were startled murmurs in the room.

“No
, I don’t think it’s a bit harsh,” he said at last, his voice clearly stating that this was the final word on it.

“Nick, you can’t fire a man because he got caught in company gossip.”

“Well, technically, I can, Joelle,” he said, emphasizing her name. “We can’t have our customer list showing up somewhere in a newspaper column. We’d be flat out of business.”

“But
he has a family, two kids. Susan Gellons is dating his wife’s brothers. I don’t think that’s exactly his fault. Or being disloyal to you,” she said, her voice louder than before.

Nic
k hesitated and turned his chair so he was facing Brittany Snow. “Is that true, Ms. Snow?”

“I-I don’t know,” Brittany Snow said,
tapping furiously at the iPad before her.

Joelle had the audacity to sigh and roll her eyes, all at
him.
“Yes. It’s quite true. I’ve talked to him almost daily while we wait for the elevator. The point is: maybe you should find out for sure before you make a decision that could ruin a person’s life. A person with far fewer resources than you.”

Nick frowned at Joelle, but she stared right back. She swallowed and twisted her fingers together. Everyone was silent, watching him.
Obviously, they could see Joelle knew him, and that he knew Joelle in another capacity than just a low-level employee. He tapped his pen on the table, annoyed she questioned him in front of everyone. But he had to give her credit. At least, she had the balls to do it.

He snapped forward in his chair and leveled a look at Brittany.
“Fine. Ms. Snow, confirm that, and let me know by the end of the day.”

“Yes
, sir,” she said, making a note. Nick glanced at Joelle and received a challenging look. Well, so much for discretion. Her eyes were wide, and clouded with confusion. She had finally, totally, opened her eyes and saw the real him. He regretted that. She was in for a shock.