Though it was irrelevant to what was right or wrong, a hundred grand likely signified very little to someone as wealthy as Robert. To him, it was probably chump change, the sort of coin he might drop on a vacation or an afternoon shopping spree. Still, I had to wonder what his expectations were from me in return.
What would happen now if I tried to put the moves on him? He might think I was merely returning his good deed with the only currency I had readily available, my body. He, too, might become more reluctant than he already was to get physical with me, fearing that I was only going along with things out of obligation. I cursed myself for not making my feelings about the vamp known sooner, but how was I to know he was going to do this?
While I wished Robert had consulted me before charging ahead and doing what he’d done, some part of me was glad he hadn’t. I doubted I would have been able to turn down the offer, as it would have been too tempting. At least this way the choice had been made for me and was out of my hands.
To add to the growing list of things that were outside of my realm of control, I now had Nick calling me. Fantastic. Groaning, I nearly hit ignore on his call, but then swiftly concluded it was high time I ended this nonsense once and for all.
On the bright side, he wasn’t bawling when I picked up. Thank goodness for small miracles. “What is it now, Nick? You’ve really got to move on and stop calling me,” I said in my most reasonable voice. I could see no point in kicking off the hopefully short conversation angry, since he’d only match my energy.
You could have knocked me over with a feather when he said, “You’re absolutely right.”
“You think so?” I sensed a trap.
“I do. But here’s the thing: we both could use some closure.” He sounded so calm that I suspected he’d finally sought the therapy he needed. I opened my mouth to remind him that our lack of closure was his doing, but he beat me to it. “I know I behaved like a real shit at the end of our relationship, and I know you don’t owe me a thing.”
“Damn right, I don’t.” I couldn’t help myself.
“I deserved that. But I’d still like the opportunity to apologize to you in-person.”
I thought a moment. “And then what, you’ll stop calling me? The harassment will end?”
“The only thing I want is for us to move on.”
He hadn’t really answered my question, but I’d take what I could get if it meant he’d finally leave me alone. I agreed to meet him for coffee that night, hoping I wasn’t making a huge mistake. I figured I could endure fifteen minutes of idiocy if it meant extracting Nick’s thorn out of my side forever.
22
The first of manyHoly shit, what have I agreed to?moments occurred when I pulled up at the coffee shop parking lot. It was there that Nick approached me holding a gas station rose wrapped in tacky hot-pink cellophane, acting like we were long-lost lovers reuniting after war. He opened his arms wide and embraced me while I stood there stiff as a board, arms glued to my side like I was a mummy.
“You look amazing,” he whispered in my ear. “Oh, how I’ve missed you.”
Before I knew what was happening, he mashed his lips against mine. He tasted of cheap junk food. I took a step back, using a sleeve to scrub away his greasy kiss. “There will be none of that. Let’s get this over with,” I stated formally, marching toward the entrance.
It may have been petty, but I was delighted to note that Nick’s appearance had taken a turn for the worse since I’d last seen him. His hair had thinned greatly, and a blubbery twenty or so pounds now resided on his once-toned midsection. Crawling up from his collar was a livid razor burn that extended all the way to his chin. Ooh looked like that hurt.Bet your list of mistresses isn’t so long now, Nick,I thought with spite.
We went inside. As if it wasn’t awkward enough that he paid forhiscoffee only using a handful of crumpled dollar bills he’d taken straight from his pocket, he then selected the least private table in the entire place, located in the utmost center of the room. The spotlights above, which would have been a lovely addition to any Guantanamo Bay interrogation room, felt so hot on my skull that I began to worry my hair would catch fire if we didn’t speed things along.
We stared at each other silently for what felt like the better part of an eternity. It didn’t seem as if he was too eager to get the closure he’d claimed he was so desperately seeking, so I figured I’d get the ball rolling. “So, what is it that you want to say, Nick?”
Every pair of eyes in the entire room focused on me with righteous accusation when Nick burst into tears—if they only knew. “It’s just . . . Damn, Olivia! I thought it was going to be me and you forever, you know?” he blathered like a lovestruck teenager.
The back of my neck was so hot an egg could have been fried on it. I curled a hand over my forehead and shrunk down in my seat, as if it would somehow make me invisible. “Will you please lower your voice!”
“I fucked up, alright? But I never stopped loving you!” he shrieked, bringing a fist down hard on the table. “Never!”
A woman with a young boy glared at us.Sorry, I mouthed, though it didn’t appear as if my apology had been accepted. The woman, leaving their drinks on the table, grabbed her kid by the arm and pulled him outside. I wished they’d taken me with them.
“What is this you’re doing, Nick?”
“What I can’t understand,” he powered on, “is what you see in that cocksucker Robert Bramson. We were good together! He could never love you the way I do!”
“Let’s hope so,” I quipped, furious that I’d been duped. “So, let me get this straight. You never had any intention of leaving me alone. Coffee was merely a ruse to get me to meet up with you. Am I on the right track?” It shouldn’t have stunned in the slightest, since Nick had hardly been conducting himself like a standup guy as of late. Silly me for being optimistic.
“Don’t be like that,” he said, reaching across the table to take my hand.
I recoiled, nearly knocking over my coffee. “Don’t eventhinkabout touching me,” I snapped. “You won’t touch me again. Not ever.”
For months, I’d played out the scenario more times than I could count: the biting insults and snappy comebacks I’d throw in Nick’s face if I saw him in the flesh. For once, I’d be getting the last word. I’d burn him so hard he’d be shattered for years to come.
