Zenith Falling (11 page)

“Can I talk to you?” Joelle asked Nick as they all filed out of the conference room.

Nick merely glanced her way, but k
ept walking and talking to his CFO. Finally, after a pause in the conversation, he said, “No, you can’t. I have another meeting right now. And then I’ll be out of the office the rest of the day.”

“But
, Nick–”

“I don’t have time for you right now, Joelle.”

With that, he turned back around, taking quick steps and stiffening his posture as he ignored her. Joelle felt like kicking the wall next to her. How dare he? How dare he brush her off and ignore her? But then again, as Nick so clearly showed during the meeting, he could do anything he wanted. She was his damn employee. He could brush her off any time he liked. He could fire her anytime he liked. Just like poor Fred Wilson.

Joelle sighed; this was the Nick Lassiter she didn’t know and didn’t want to know. This was the person she heard about through office gossip. It was always, “Mr. Lassiter demands this, and Mr. Lassiter says that.” What Mr. Lassiter would like or not like. It was all very cut and dried, as if Mr. Lassiter never considered any extenuating circumstances.
She went back to her desk that sat outside of Steve Applebaum’s office. Her desk resembled Bev Richmond’s. Only hers was smaller, and of lesser quality, but had the same accouterments: phone, computer, files, and a nearly dead potted plant, a failed attempt to liven up the otherwise bland office clutter. Steve came by just then. “Into my office, please.”

There was a
stern tone to the otherwise polite request. She got up and followed him, sitting across from his desk. She did not feel afraid or awkward with him anymore, not like she did the first few weeks.

“I’m guessing this is about the meeting?” Joelle asked.

“Of course, it is. I asked you to attend it because I thought you’d learn something, start to see the workings of the company as a whole. Not try to tell Nick Lassiter what to do. Nobody tells Nick Lassiter what to do. What the hell was that?”

“That was me questioning a totally stupid and dictatorial decision Nick impulsively made. Don’t worry, it won’t reflect on you. It’s all on me.”

“I don’t understand, Joelle, you never talk to anyone, not even me sometimes, yet you dare to argue with him? Of all the people to find your voice, you choose Nick Lassiter?”

He was right. She’d done just that, found her voice with Nick. Why? Why with Nick Lassiter of all people?

“He’s not God, Mr. Applebaum.”

“He is here. If you value your job, I’d cut it out now.”

“I can handle Nick.”

Steve sat back in his chair, regarding
her. “I see. I take it you know Nick outside of being my boss?”

“Yes.”

“How?”

“Don’t worry,
everything will be fine,” Joelle said as she stood up and started out of the office. She walked to the elevator and went up two floors and then down the hallway to Bev Richmond’s desk. The barracuda lady had become her ally of sorts over the last few weeks. She seemed to consider Joelle some kind of pet project.

“Hi
, Ms. Richmond.”

“Joelle,” she said in a prim tone.

“Is he in?”

“No
, he’s out.”

“Where?” Joelle asked grumpily. “Where did he have to rush off to that he couldn’t spare a moment?”

“Client. Then, I believe, he said he had an early date. To the symphony, I believe.”

“Oh,” Joelle said, annoyed. What the hell? Nick had a date? Who did Nick date? She couldn’t picture him having a personal life. The symphony? Downtown penthouse. She really knew jack about him.

“I heard what happened in the meeting,” Ms. Richmond said. “You’ve got guts, don’t you? Could explain his bad mood.”

“He was being unreasonable.”

“He can seem that way, but usually, he has very sound reasons. He’s not one to mess with, Joelle. You know that, I hope?”

No. She didn’t know that. She didn’t know him at all. She didn’t know anything. “You never have asked how I know him outside of here. You obviously realize he got me this job. Why don’t you ask?”

“It’s none of my business. Whatever your relationship is to Nick, just be cautious. Friendship and business don’t mix. Nick definitely doesn’t mix them.”

“Okay,” Joelle said surprised at the warning, and confused… period. Who was Nick Lassiter? Why didn’t she know more about him? Why did he know every embarrassing fact of her life when she didn’t know one thing beyond his work persona? And what did Bev Richmond see that compelled her to steer
her away from Nick?

Joelle remembered Nick’s address and decided to use it despite knowing the next morning was Saturday.
There was a doorman and tight security. To her shock, she was on a special list that identified exactly who could go up to Nick’s penthouse. Why did he do that? In conjunction with the directions to his place? For “just in case” reasons? She rode the elevator to the top floor of Nick’s building. What her life lacked, Nick’s possessed an overabundance of. She knocked on his door, her resolve keeping her nerves at bay. He couldn’t just ignore her because he didn’t like being argued with. He didn’t answer the two calls she made to his voice mail last night.

He took forever to answe
r the door, although she could hear him, until the door finally opened. He was dressed in jeans, with an untucked polo shirt, bare feet, and still damp hair. She’d never seen him so casual before. Actually, she only ever saw him wearing one of his immaculate designer suits, with a tie, slacks and dress shoes. He looked different, although kind of the same, but looser, and a lot sexier. Not quite so “Nick Lassiter, CEO”.

“Joelle? Are you all right?” he asked, looking first at her and then behind her as if he expected to find someone. “Did something happen?”

She recognized that voice. He was Nick again. Concerned. Worried. Caring.

“No, every
thing is fine. I came to talk about yesterday. I called you last night, but you didn’t answer. I thought about calling this morning, but I assumed you’d ignore me. I thought–”

“You should have called first.”

There was an odd tone to Nick’s quietly worded comment. He was also blocking the doorway, without moving his body in any way that would suggest he was inviting her in. The date he had last night.
The date must still be in his apartment
. She shut her eyes in horror, as she let out a breath. Was this the worst idea she ever had?

Nick
’s penthouse was huge, with a wide open, spacious living room, and two huge couches with complementary chairs. Plush, white carpet, led to an oversized, granite-countered, gourmet kitchen, separated from the living room by a long eating bar. There was also a hallway that led from the living room to the bedrooms, and through a formal archway into the dining room. There was a balcony beyond that, and floor-to-ceiling windows that opened up the kitchen, flooding the condo with light, and views of the sky, the city, and Puget Sound. Nick spent all his waking hours here or at the office, regally observing the rest of the world.

Then she saw Nick’s date: a tall, graceful blonde, with long, almost white-colored hair.
She was a spectacular specimen of poise wrapped in pale, porcelain skin. She rose from the living room couch and walked towards them with a beautiful silk robe tied at her waist.

Joelle shut her eyes in horror.
Of course, his date was
there
; of course, she was the antithesis of Joelle in height, hair, coloring, beauty, and clothing… right down to her manicure. She looked to be in her late twenties, and the epitome of perfection for Nick. Just like his office, his car, his clothes, his condo, so why not his date?

“Nice place,” Joelle said finally, after observing the details.

“Thanks,” Nick said, shutting the door behind her, and putting his hands into his pockets. He glanced at his date as she approached him, and he shuffled his feet. Joelle realized she made a huge mistake by deciding to come there. She was not welcome. Nick’s face was stony, his eyes blazing blue. She had obviously read way too much into Nick’s real concern about her.

The beautiful woma
n discreetly, but politely checked Joelle out. She obviously considered her nonthreatening with regard to Nick, and she smiled kindly, and even appeared nice to Joelle.

“Hi, I’m Erica Heathersby.”
She politely held out her hand and Joelle shook it.

Nick straightened his back. He spoke before she could.
“This is Joelle, she’s a friend of Trina’s, who works for me. Can you give us a moment?” Nick said in a brisk tone.

“Oh
, of course,” Erica said, smiling graciously, walking toward what Joelle assumed was the master bedroom. They both watched her leave the room.

“Erica must have been your date to the symphony, and the reason why you couldn’t even spare me a minute yesterday.”

Nick looked down at her and narrowed his eyes. “How did you know where I went?”

“Ms. Richmond told me.”

“What are you doing? Keeping tabs on me? And why exactly did you come here?”

“I tried to talk to you yesterday, but your feelings were too ragged to listen to me.”

He blew a breath out. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Yesterday after the meeting. You were too angry to even look at me.”

“No. I wasn’t. I was late. I was leaving. I was busy. I wasn’t anything at you.”

“You didn’t like my second-guessing you.”

“Of course, I didn’t. Who does?”

“Well
, why wouldn’t you talk to me?”

“Because I run a multi-million dollar company with more th
an a hundred employees who rely on me. I have the final say so. Sometimes I use it. People’s personal lives mean very little to me. I employ them for their skills and work ethic. I expect loyalty, and obedience to a few rules. One of those being:
no interviews
. Ever. Or you get fired. That’s not a new rule to someone like Fred Wilson; and no, you may not understand it, but you don’t get any say.”

“But maybe sometimes, you need to make sure all your facts are straight before you execute life-altering choices on your employees. I was simply pointing out those facts.”

He ran a hand through his hair. “Yes, you did, and didn’t I ask Brittany to look into it? Turns out, you were wrong. Wilson’s interview will be in Sunday’s paper.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, ‘oh.’ I know you don’t get it. But I have my reasons for all of my actions. Reasons I can’t and won’t always explain to you, because you’re a secretary. You’re not my vice president, or lawyer, or–”

“I know, I’m nothing important.”

He sighed loudly. “That’s not what I meant. I meant you’re not privy to managerial decisions. Or executive decisions. Look, I have to be your boss sometimes.”

“I know that.”

“Then what made you succumb to the urge to come over to my house on a Saturday morning?”

“You gave me your address, remember?”

“Yeah, for emergencies only. Not to come bitch me out for ‘being mean’ to a friend of yours.”

She dropped her gaze to her feet, and her cheeks started to feel hot.
“I know. I just, I thought you were furious at me for what I did in the meeting. I thought–”

“I didn’t think about it after we left the conference room.”

“But you were being so unreasonable. It seems like you try to make everyone at the company afraid of you.”

“Afraid of me? I wouldn’t go that far. I’m just busy. I don’t care how I come across. What is it you’re most upset about
, Joelle? That I’m not Trina’s nice older brother anymore? Or that I treated you like any other employee?”

H
er heart skipped, and she gasped.
God, he was right
. She didn’t like it. She didn’t like knowing the Nick she’d come to rely on wasn’t that way to his other employees. She especially didn’t like him not being the old Nick towards her. Yesterday, he was different: moody, mad, and annoyed at her. Like Rob, with whom she never knew what to expect. She thought with Nick, that she’d become used to his even temper and stability. His all-around nice way with her. Was that what bothered her so much? Did he, in fact, only think of her as any other employee?

“I didn’t like being intimidated by you, or treated like the rest of your nameless employees.”
Her voice was a whisper.

But she
was more than just intimidated by Nick Lassiter. She was terrified of him. And worse, she was dreading, but also couldn’t seem to wait for Monday, just to clear the air between them. Why couldn’t she find the gumption to say “boo!” to her own husband regarding the most trivial of things, but managed to muster up the courage to crash her boss’s house and then tell him off?

“That’s the thing
, Joelle, all you can be to me is an employee… isn’t it?”

Joelle nearly flinched. She looked towards his living room, and noticed the two wine glasses left on the coffee table. The silence grew thick and awkward
, as she nodded toward the glasses, and said, “So, I gather you don’t have the kinds of parties here that I do at my house.”

Nick glanced to where she was looking. “No. Not hardly. Quiet dinner parties. Dates. That’s about it.”

“Look, I should let you get back to your day–”

“Why couldn’t th
is have waited until Monday, Joelle?” he asked, his gaze pinning her, and his tone insistent. He wanted the real reason, which she wasn’t sure she knew. Her reasons weren’t logical; they were more like feelings she could not deny.

“I don’t know.” She looked up at him, then quickly away. “I’m sorry for making this personal.”

“I think we’re past personal already,” Nick said. He leaned his shoulder into the wall, and crossed his arms over his chest.

Joelle
licked her lips. “Is Erica your girlfriend?”

“Yes
, she is.”

“You’ve never mentioned her before.”

“I try to keep my personal life private.”

Why was his life private, but hers always open for his critic
ism?

“Is it serious between you two?”

He shrugged. “Maybe. Perhaps time will tell.”

“Are the feelings there or not?”

“It’s not necessarily like that. There’s this thing called dating, whereby you take some time to get to know someone, and have some fun, perhaps some sex, and conversation. Of course, it’s not like being nineteen and married before you know any better.”

She jerked back.
“That was low. You don’t know everything about me.”

He snorted.

She bristled. “Marriage is complicated; you really don’t know everything about my life.”

“No
,
you
don’t know about your life.”

“
Why do you sound so angry at me?”

He stood up straighter, stepping
closer, and making her step back. His voice became softer, quieter, and more intense. “Because you don’t know why you’re here, and I do.”

She stared up at him, biting her lip.
“I don’t know what you mean by that.”

“That’s always it with you
, isn’t it? You never really know anything, do you? You don’t even really know why you’re here.”

“I felt like
–”

“What? What do you feel? About me? About Rob? About yourself? Tell me
, Joelle, when are you going to get a clue of what you really feel?”

She didn’t know what he wanted from her. She stepped back.
“I need this job, Nick. That’s why I’m here,” she said finally, her voice nearly a whisper. How could she explain to him that this job had come to represent the only sanity in her life, her lifeline towards something good, something decent, something she could control? The thing was: she didn’t control it, Nick did. He gave her the job; she hadn’t struggled for or earned it. And he could take it from her anytime he pleased.

Nick sighed. “Your job won’t disap
pear. When have I ever said or done anything to suggest that?”

She nodded. Didn’t she know she could trust Nick if no one else? It was a new concept for her. To take someone’s word and believe it.
“I thought maybe I ruined that yesterday.”

“Do me the favor: don’t expect me to
react to things the way your husband does. I won’t do anything to hurt you.”

The thing that scared her
the most was she already knew that. She’d come to rely on him, and the thought that he was mad at her really panicked her, and made her come running there to fix it all.

“Why
, Nick? Why do you try so hard to be nice to me?”

“It’s not so hard to do. Why don’t you see that? You’re a nice person; why shouldn’t I be nice to you? Why is it so hard for you to believe that someone might want to help you?”

“It’s just hard for me to trust or believe sometimes. Rob, he used to be nice to me, he used to care about me, and help me, but he changed. Everything changed. I guess I just temporarily forgot what it’s like to be able to rely on someone.”

Nick shook his
head. “Why don’t you leave him? Go find a life for yourself. Leave Rob and find real happiness.”

“I don’t want to leave Rob. I just want... I want Rob to get better and be the Rob I thought I was married to. But I can’t leave just because it’s gotten hard, or because things have changed.”

“Yeah, you can leave. I’ll help you. If you need money or help finding a place to stay, I’ll help you.”