Page 7 of Good Intentions, Vol. 3

“Perfectly fine, sir,” I whisper back. I don’t want him to feel concern. Not on my behalf. If it’s the last thing I do, I will survive this job and Nick and carry on with my life as if nothing happened. “As a matter of fact, I should go. I have a few calls and emails that I need to get to. Gentlemen,” I murmur and turn to get the hell out of this room.

“Miss. Turner,” Nick’s call stops me in my tracks. “A word, please?”

With no other choice, I turn back and face him as Mr. Matthews passes by me and goes out of the room, leaving us alone. Each and every look I have of him today is a sucker punch to my stomach. I want it to be painful, I’m trying my best and remember the malice that was in his eyes, the brutal way he said his last words to me, but it isn’t. Instead, every time I look at him, every cell in my body starts vibrating, begging me to go to him, compelling me to surrender to him. The moment the door closes, enveloping us in silence, his whole demeanor changes and I’m met with the man who I loved. The one who I thought loved me back. The sharp lines at the edges of his eyes smoothe over, his jaw relaxes, his mouth goes soft and as he takes a big breath the relaxation of his muscles is evident. It’s almost as if he was holding a breath, scared to even breathe until this very moment. Seeing him like this, the tight fist in my stomach releases and I almost sag.

I wait for him to say something.

To do something.

But he’s just standing there, looking at me, drinking me in. I can’t do this, I have to get out or I’ll lose all my false bravado and start crying. Or, even worse, run to him and kiss him. So I break the silence.

“Yes, Nick?”

It’s a lame thing to say, but I don’t have enough strength in me to try and find something smarter to say.

“We need to talk,” he takes one step towards me and I take a step back. I can’t let him get near me.

“Talk about what?”

“Heather, we need to talk,” he repeats his eyes zeroed in on my feet and he takes another step to me. I mimic his movements and take a step back.

“We have nothing to talk about,” even I shiver from the coldness in my tone.

He tries again, and again, I move away.

“Pretty girl,” he starts.

“Don’t call me that,” I watch him flinch. “Never call me that again,” I barely push the words out behind my clenched teeth.

“Have dinner with me.”

“No,” I turn and start walking to the door. I’m done with this. I’m done feeling weak when it comes to him.

“I need to tell you something, I need to apologize,” he rushes the words out.

Stopping at the door, I say, “You don’t need to do anything, we’re done, Nick.”

“Heather, have dinner with me.”

I muster up all the strength I have in me, take the doorknob in my hand and just as I turn it and start to pull the door open, I look over my shoulder and with as much malice in my voice as I can possibly inject, I give him my parting shot, “Go back to your wife, Nick.”

I open the door to my apartment and the delicious smell of basil mixed with a touch of garlic makes my mouth water and confuses me for a second. And then, I remember.

Luke.

Dinner.

He said he’ll make bolognese sauce and pasta. He was supposed to do it last night but I canceled it and asked if we could move it to tonight. Shit. I forgot.

“Hey, baby,” the warm hand that’s over my shoulder blades and down my back does nothing to expel the coldness and loneliness in me that I’ve been fighting all day.

For a while now I know that Luke will never live up to the glory that for a second Nick gave me, but I care for him enough to fool myself into thinking that someday I will love him. I will start feeling the all-consuming need for him. And just as that lie started to become true, as the love started growing, Nick showed up and tried to ruin everything. This time I won’t let him.

Luke doesn’t deserve that.

And neither do I.

“Did you have a good day?” Luke’s arm on my waist turns me to face him.