As I Breathe (One Breath at a Time: Book 2) (10 page)

“Yeah?” his voice questioned with an intonation of concern. “Actually, that’s why I’m calling...”

“
Oh...” Her heart sank with anticipation rising, wondering if Brielle had put him to up playing the middleman in their rift.

“
I don’t want to worry you any further, but I haven’t heard from Brielle either. This isn’t like her, she had been reporting the progress of her novel by phone—I don’t know, at least, every other day—now she’s missing in action”

In some way Nuilley felt this was good news, and then of course, bad news too. “Really...she hasn’t called you either?”

“No, not even an email.”

“
Jack, I’m really worried about her...”

“
Yeah...what’s going on over there?”

“
I’m not sure. I stopped by her house yesterday and talked to her landlord, Mr. Piccart and he claims she’s fine.”

“
Really. Then why the hell hasn’t she called the two most important people in her life?” The confidence of the statement wavered a bit as he reluctantly added, “Aside from her parents...but shit, they’re off on some elaborate vacation right now—I called them the other day and some lady answered and told me this. I believe she was their housekeeper?”

“
What? No, they don’t have a housekeeper. Did you get her name?” Nuilley insolently inquired.

“
You know me, dang right I did. Her name was Tara something.”

Nuilley laughed. “Oh gosh, Tara...that’s Brielle’s mom’s friend from Florida. She used to babysit Brielle and Brett when her parents went on vacation. I guess since they’re all grown up she’s now house-sitting for them.”

“Oh...okay, that’s solved...now as for Brielle, you need to go back over there and demand to see her.”

“
I tried...but...Mr. Piccart—he’s kind of strange, and I didn’t want to cause any trouble. You see, I think Brielle’s mad at me...so well, you know?”

“
Maybe she is, but you need to find out before assuming so. What’s gotten into you? You’d be the first one in line to knock down her door.”

Nuilley exhaled, “Yeah, I know, but she’s been acting so distant lately and I didn’t want to push.” More accurately, Nuilley didn’t want to force the issue because of guilt, and it was blatantly obvious to her that Brielle didn’t want her around. She could take a hint when one’s been thrown right in her face.

“It sounds like you two have some things to sort out, it’s really none of my business—but whatever it is, it’s affecting her work.” Jack was overly obsessed with his career, so much so, that he forgot they were all friends, first. “You’ll figure it out...”

“
Listen, I was thinking about going back over when Mr. Piccart isn’t home—he has a class he teaches on Friday nights at the University.”

“
That old guy is still teaching—wow—good for him.”

“
Yeah, go figure—it’s some kind of method acting class. Anyway tell me if you think I should do this? Somewhere I have a key to Brielle’s apartment, and I was going to let myself in if she doesn’t answer...” Nuilley fell silent.

“
Go for it...but you’re going to have a problem with that.”

“
Why?”

“
You don’t remember, huh?”

“
No, what?”

“
Damn it, I can’t believe this!” Jack said in a halting manner.

“
What?” Nuilley asked.

“
Don’t you remember the night we were out, and Brielle gave you the key?”

“
You mean your last night in Paris...uh, I’d like to forget that night?”

“
Yes, Nuilley, I figured you would. You drank way too much, that’s not like you. You can drink any man under the table. Why did you get so drunk?”

“
I don’t know.” Nuilley knew all to well why, but didn’t what to confess to Jack her reasons. “Anyway what about the key?”

“
You don’t remember, do you?”

“
Jack...please.”

He laughed teasingly. “You went to toss it into that big old purse of yours, the abyss to nowhere, so I intercepted and took it from you for safekeeping. I forgot to give it back to you when I left the next morning.”

“Oh fuck, Jack, that’s right. I forgot. I’ve been searching for that key like a maniac all day.”

“
No, worries. I’ll overnight it to you.”

“
Overnight—from New York? That will cost a fortunate.”

“
I think I can afford it,” he quipped proudly. “It’s no problem. Besides, how else are you going to get into Brielle’s place?” Jack asked. “Unless you plan on breaking in.” He joked.

“
Uuuh no,” she breathed out. “So you really think I should sneak in?” Nuilley questioned naively to keep the conversation going. Jack was the only man whose voice mesmerized her. She could talk to him forever and wanted to do just that.

“
This is screwed up,” he randomly said.

“
What is?” Nuilley asked.

“
Just because Brie is angry with you that shouldn’t stop her from calling me, we have business to tend to—hell, I didn’t do anything wrong.”

Stop whining Jack
, Nuilley inwardly snapped. She now wished she hadn’t told Jack about the rift she had with Brielle. It was evident he assumed the fight was her fault. It figured.

“
Girls—” Jack said in a tone implying women were a pain in the ass. “Their always bickering and back biting and then they kiss and making up the next day. It’s really a waste of time. Just tell Brielle you’re sorry.”

“
Jack, why are you assuming the problem here is my fault? Brielle has been—”

Jack interrupted. “Nui...I don’t want to hear anything about it. Seriously, I don’t want to get involved. You two will make up, and I will be the bad guy stuck in the middle for taking sides.”

To Nuilley, it sounded as if he had already chosen whose side he was on. As far as Nuilley felt, Jack had never been able to hide the “secret” crush he had on Brielle ever since they first met in college. Every time Nuilley planned on spending time over at Brielle’s, ironically he would show up. If it were Brielle complaining about her, he’d want to hear every sordid detail about it. Or so Brielle had slipped and told her.

“
Well, what if she’s not calling us because she’s in trouble? Or Mr. Piccart—Jack, he’s lying about something. I feel it, big time.”

“
Come on, let’s not blow this out of proportion. Just track her down,” Jack ordered nonchalantly.

“
I’m on it...I wonder who she’s dating?” Nuilley tossed that tidbit into the conversation.

“
What? Brielle is dating someone?”

“
That’s what Mr. Piccart said...but well, it’s really none of our business.” Nuilley smiled at her jab, she knew how to get to Jack.

“
Cool,” Jack said, in a matter of fact way, but Nuilley detected the jealous undertones in his voice. Suited him right. “I need to get off here now. When you Brielle...kiss her for me, and then kick her in the ass and then tell her to call me—pronto—I’ve got to get her book out soon.”

Jack was a fine specimen of a man, a true tow-headed blonde with pale-blue eyes and a hard sexy body that rocked. Together, his genes with Brielle’s would have produced the perfect race that Adolf Hitler insanely wanted to do. Angel-haired, blue-eyed children. But any chance of romance between them had never gotten past a movie and popcorn. Brielle just couldn’t see herself with Jack, who was an all work and no play kind of guy. Jack had a hard-core exterior and Brielle cried during commercials; he was always trying to toughen her up, and she was always trying to get him to drop his tough guy routine. They were two polar opposites, but it worked out that they complemented each other in business. He pushed her and she pushed back. They truly adored one another. It worked—no pun intended. Although Jack hoped after he’d made his first cool million, and then some, he would find a way to let his hair down and win Brielle’s heart. He was very goal-oriented in all areas of his life. Little did he know that time was running out.

“Okay. Try to get the key in the mail today, so I have it by Saturday, just in case I don’t hear from her between now and then, okay?”

“
I’ll do my best...I’m buried in paperwork. I don’t know what time I’m getting out of here today and the key is at the house. So, it might not be until tomorrow.”

“
Alright, that should be fine. I’m just hoping one of us hears from her before I go trespassing. And if I call you from jail, answer.”

Jack laughed. “Yeah, Doll, of course.” Jack lowered his voice to a sexy whisper. “I’m here for you,” he said sincerely, which came as a surprise to Nuilley that she almost dropped the phone. “Besides, you’re not breaking and entering. I’m sure it will all work out somehow,” Jack said reassuringly.

Nuilley cleared her throat; shaking off the feelings for him she’d been suppressing for years. “Okay, thanks...bye, Jack.”

“
Later, sweets. Call me if you hear from her,” he quickly added before ending the call.

“
Wait. Jack...” It was too late he was gone. It had dawned on Nuilley that Mr. Piccart had said Brielle had gone out to celebrate the completion of her first draft. Wouldn’t Jack have known this? That definitely didn’t feel right!

Nuilley lay back on her bed and thought about calling Jack back, then had second thoughts. If Jack doesn’t know about the first draft being completed—if Brie didn’t tell him for whatever reason—it wasn’t her place to involve herself in their working relationship. Talk about causing a rift. What was the point? She’d have Brielle’s key in a few days, at the most, and she would call Jack back then. At that point, she could nonchalantly mention the draft instead of going out of her way to call him specifically about it. A subtle relief drifted over her until her eyes landed on the high pile of purses she’d have to now clean up.

***

Back at the hospital, I told Doctor Tagorski about my teenage years, which were one of the toughest times in my life. I worried about how I dressed, how I looked, if I was pretty enough, friends, being popular, grades, boys and how to get rid of Storm—not necessarily in the order. I was never in a good mood. Hormones were not my friend and did a number on me at the time.

The doctor asked me to elaborate on my relationship with my parents, friends and first crush. Still, I didn’t see the point but since I had promised to comply with his plan I relented. Besides, it could’ve been my ticket to freedom.

It was spring break. I remembered it was my dad who slapped together the plans to go to St. Augustine, Florida for our family vacation. Thanks to him, I had a few experiences of a lifetime—good and bad.

“We need to expand our culture,” he claimed excitingly, trying to sell me on the idea of visiting St. Augustine, rather than Disney World or tanning on a beach.

In my opinion, Manhattan offered a plethora of things to do so I didn’t feel we needed to travel anywhere else to expand our culture. New York is one of the hottest tourist spots in America. Vacationers come in droves to visit our museums, shop in the finest boutiques, dine at the best restaurants and to view our historical landmarks. If my dad wanted us to expand our culture, there was plenty to see and do without leaving home. What was he thinking by planning a trip to some boring little seaside town during spring break? If Dad wanted a borderline—conservative and stuffy vacation spot, why not just head to the Hamptons? That was my thought anyway. At least it was crawling with movie stars, and women with their faces pulled back so tight that gawking at them was a high form of entertainment.

I fought against going to St. Augustine. Anywhere but that place! What teenager in the entire world, would want to spend their spring break learning about American history? Spring break is supposed to be a “break” from learning. When my father refused to relent, I whined and fussed about it for weeks prior to going.

I had decided at a young age that I was born to be rich and famous. This idea was instigated by all of the tarot card readings that my grandmother secretly performed with me. No matter what my mother’s views were on the tarot cards, it was a great bonding time for my grandmother and me.

“Dad, I think we should head to the beach instead. We could all use some work on our white-flour complexions,” I suggested, thinking that my defense sounded convincing enough to me.

Where was Storm when I needed him?

All I wanted to do was bask in the sun, sneak peeks of the hot lifeguards and drink virgin Pina Coladas on the veranda of a fancy hotel. Obviously, I had a pressing desire to grow up fast—doing it first-class, and my way.

I argued my point and tried my best to sway my mother to my side. I had almost convinced her until my dad practically begged her, and I quote, “Babe, can I have my way just this one time?” There they were...the ten words that strangled my big plans. Why couldn’t we flip a coin, heads to the beach, tails—flip again?