Bid Me Now (22 page)

Nick shifted in his chair and closed his eyes. “All good” didn’t come close to how Miri had felt in his arms that day, her soft little body flush to his, her legs clamped around him. She was glorious.
 

He opened his eyes and took a gulp of coffee as a distraction from his erotic thoughts.
 

Cate prodded him. “Go on.”

He stared at his red-eyed, sniffling sister with the cold coming on, and the erotic thoughts subsided.
 

“Yeah, all good,” he repeated. He cleared his throat, trying to erase the last lingering thought of Miri’s body. “Until the text from my lawyer letting me know that Ms. Olivet had contacted the Spanway people. Of course, Miri’s reaction was to deny it. Said Alex wouldn’t do such a thing. Typical. That was the last straw.”
 

“Oh, Nick, I’m so sorry.”

He shrugged. “It’ll cost Alexandra Olivet in damages to cover our potential loss. She’s rich enough to afford it.”

“That’s not what I mean.”

“I know what you mean. Look, it’s better this way. It wouldn’t have worked. Miri is temperamental. Blows up in an instant. Feels too much. She’s all drama. I guess it’s because she’s an artist or…something. Hell, how would I know?”
 

Cate watched him curiously. “You’re in love with her, aren’t you?”

Crying sister or not, he didn’t need this. “No,” he lied, his rising irritation turning his voice rough. He shoved to his feet. “Right, what about lunch? I’m buying.”

The door swung open with a whoosh and Amy all but fell into his office, her red curls bouncing in her excitement. “Nick, a message from the New York office. Alexandra Olivet has formally apologized to our New York attorney. The leak was to a local company by the name of Lockart Construction. The attorney will call you as soon as she’s got all the details.”
 

Nick made Amy repeat the message twice.
 

• • •

“Are you awake?”

“No.”

“That’s good. Otherwise, I’d have to tell you the Widow is downstairs.”

Miri groaned and buried her face under her pillow. “Can’t you tell the witch I’m asleep?”
 

Bree plunked down on Miri’s bed. “She wants to see you. It’s tragic. My precious, you simply
must
see her,” Bree purred, mimicking Alex. “She’s in sweatpants and sneakers. No makeup. I’m worried she might…well…do something to herself.”

 
If only. Miri pushed herself up and leaned against the headboard, trying to keep a straight face as Bree picked forlornly at a loose thread on the comforter.
 

“Liar. She’ll be in designer and as chirpy as a budgie.” Miri hadn’t seen Alex for weeks, but she still knew it was true. Alex didn’t do sweats. Or tragic, for that matter.
 

Miri sighed. “Okay, give me a few minutes to get dressed. I’m only doing this so you won’t be stuck with her for the rest of the day.”

Bree bounced upright and headed for the door. “That’s the spirit. I’ll feed her last night’s cold pizza. She’s so damned skinny, a few carbs will do her good.”

Miri slid down into her bed again. Alex could wait. She might have apologized to Nick, but that didn’t get her off the hook.
 

The absurdity of the whole thing was that Alex had been right all along. She’d just accused the wrong company and then turned malicious against Nick.
 

Lockart Construction and Marcus. Who would have thought? No one, apparently. She knew nothing about Lockart Construction, except it was a local company. But Marcus she did know, and it still beggared belief that he had been involved. He had done it for her. Because he loved her, or so he said. The irony of it all. The
Circle of Life
was about retaining core values, and Marcus had shot his to hell.
 

Miri reached for her phone to check her messages, her eyes disobediently flicking to the time and date display. Noon of the thirty-second day. Every morning she scolded herself for counting the days. People only counted days when someone had gone away and was expected back.
 

Nick wasn’t coming back.
 

This was her new normal. Her post-Nick life. Home. Friends. Lying in bed far longer than was good for her. But at least she was on track to buy Jimmy Bob’s, and her lawyer would make the offer tomorrow.

As for romance…that was over. No involvement with anyone until she was at least thirty. That seemed a sensible age to find someone to settle down with. Someone who would be kind and uncomplicated and comfortable.
 

He wouldn’t be tall and dark-haired and oozing sexy. She was done with tall, dark, sexy-edgy types. No, he would be nicely ordinary.
 

Of course, he would have to have some sex appeal. That was a given. But not to the extent that her whole body would tighten with desire every time she looked at him. She didn’t need that. And he wouldn’t have big hands that could distract her with a simple caress. Or a mouth that worked beautiful magic every time it found hers. No, those heady things she could do without.

Miri pushed herself further under her comforter, suddenly longing for the things she could do without. His mouth. His hands. His…
 

“
Miri!
”

“I’m coming!” Miri sat up, not missing the ambiguity of her words. Dammit, Bree could scream like a banshee when she wanted.

Slipping into cotton shorts and T-shirt, Miri checked herself in the mirror and didn’t like what she saw. Bree was right, she was pale and sad-looking. And her hair needed washing. What a difference a few weeks could make to a life.
 

Scraping her hair into a ponytail and securing it with her old Scrunchie, she went downstairs to find Alex and Bree sitting either side of the kitchen table and eyeing each other over the pizza.

“There you are, my darling,” Alex exclaimed, jumping up with obvious relief. “Oh, you don’t look well at all.” Alex reached out to embrace her, but Miri made a neat sidestep and headed for the coffee machine.
 

Alex pursed her scarlet lips and sat down again. “After all this time, I had hoped that we could put this terrible business behind us.”
 

Miri looked at Alex sitting at the kitchen table in a summery pink linen suit that did nothing to conceal the strain on her face. After weeks of being shunned, Alex was here for forgiveness. She was nervous, that was plain enough. But knowing Alex as well as she did, Miri found it difficult to believe she was genuinely sorry. She was, after all, the consummate actress.
 

Alex crossed a leg. “It is such a shame that all this happened.”
 

Miri snorted. “In your world, a shame is a chipped nail.”

Bree giggled and pushed the pizza across the table. “Something to eat?”
 

Alex stared at the pizza like it was a live grenade. “Don’t be ridiculous, Bree.” Turning to Miri, she tried to smile. “Of course, I was wrong to accuse Nick Brannagh right off. I do regret that.”
 

Miri studied Alex’s face, trying to read behind her beautiful cornflower-blue eyes. Maybe she was sorry. “You slandered his company to a major client,” she said gently, deciding to give her the benefit of the doubt, “I’m sorry he didn’t accept your apology, but he did warn you.”

“But my dear, it was an honest mistake. Of course, right from the beginning I knew he was all wrong for you. A man like that doesn’t care. If he’d cared, he wouldn’t have left.”
 

No, Alex wasn’t sorry at all.
 

Miri clenched her coffee cup, pushing down the urge to order her out of the house. “A man like what?” she snapped. “By the way, how much is he suing you for?” she added spitefully.

Alex’s Chanel-blushed cheeks turned a shade brighter. “Well…that’s something I can’t discuss at the moment.” That evasive response could only mean one thing. Nick was suing her for millions. “But my lawyer is very confident of a reasonable settlement.”
 

Alex didn’t look anything close to believing that. She was really hurting. A rare sight. Kind of like watching a comet that wouldn’t be back for a hundred years.

Miri sat down in a chair and tucked a foot under her butt. “I doubt it will be reasonable. You know you deserve it, don’t you?”

Alex looked surprised. “‘Deserve’ doesn’t come into it, my dear. I was right about the bids. How could I know it was Lockart and…well, that Marcus was involved?” She fidgeted with a loose strand of hair. “Poor Marcus, he feels so terrible about the whole thing. Of course, he’s offered to pay the lawsuit damages, but the poor dear won’t have anywhere enough to cover it. He only did it because he loves you, so I can forgive him. Maybe in time, my darling, you two can work things out…”

Miri sprang to her feet so fast that Alex reared back in sheer fright. Her eyes rounded in shock when Miri’s fist slammed the table. “For God’s sake, listen to yourself. You can’t stop meddling. You seem to think this whole thing is nothing more than a piece of broken china to be fixed. You slandered Nick to the Spanway people out of pure spite. And for what? Because he got the better of you that day in your office? Because you thought Marcus would make the right husband for me and Nick was in the way? Well, this is the last time you will ever interfere in my life. If you do, you will never be welcome in this house again. Are we
clear
?”
 

Alex looked so stunned that Miri’s chest filled with a sudden, terrifying guilt. Alex had been her beloved mother’s friend. After the accident, it had been Alex’s tireless support that had got her through the months of despair. Had helped with her exhibitions. Loved Miri as if she were her own child.
 

She felt Bree’s arm slip around her shoulders. “I’m fine, Bree,” she said quietly, blinking away her own shock. She tamped down her instinctive urge to apologize to Alex. To make things right. This couldn’t be put right. Not for a long time, anyway. “Now I’m going to take a very long soak in the tub. Alex, please leave.”

Not waiting for a response, Miri walked out to the hall and started toward the stairs, pausing when she heard the scrape of a kitchen chair being pushed back, followed by Alex’s voice.
 

 
“Do you think she’ll ever forgive me, Bree?”
 

“Maybe. After she stops blaming herself.” Bree’s voice dropped to a whisper, but the words still carried to Miri’s ears. “And after she’s forgiven herself for falling in love.”

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Miri felt almost new.
 

Lying in her most comfortable garden lounger under the shady, wisteria-covered pergola that ran the length of the studio’s outside wall, she closed her eyes and savored the scents and sounds of summer: roses and lavender, the drone of bumble bees, the soft, rhythmic swish of Mr. Johnston’s water sprinkler next door.

The tension in her muscles had all but gone. Fresh from the tub, wearing her short-shorts and a bright red bikini top, her hair hung clean and vanilla-scented around her shoulders, her skin glowing warm from her favorite body lotion. She hadn’t felt this good in…well, a long time.

She opened her eyes to scan the garden. Maybe it wasn’t too late to plant a row of petunias. Or do some sketching. Or start on a tan. Maybe she would take her sketchbook and spend tomorrow at the beach.

Maybe if she got off her butt, she could start on those rolls of copper sheeting gathering dust on her studio floor. The library sculpture was weeks behind schedule, and sometime in the next few days she would have to call the client with the news.
 

She slipped further down into the lounger, letting herself relax a little more. Work could wait. Besides, it was Sunday afternoon, Alex had long since gone, and if the faint sounds coming from the kitchen were any indication, Bree was fixing cold drinks and reheating the pizza.
 

She was almost asleep when she heard the soft click of the studio door.
 

“Hey, sleepyhead, you’ve got a visitor.”
 

Miri kept her eyes closed and silently prayed that Alex hadn’t come back. She couldn’t bear another dose of Alex.

“Miri.”
 

She looked around, her eyes momentarily confused as they registered who it was. Nick filled the doorway of her studio. Dark business suit. A soft, sad smile that had her heart missing beats.
 

She blinked several times to reassure herself that it was him. “Nick? What are you doing…?” she started to ask, then stopped. Five seconds in, and she was interrogating him.

“I’m going to Abe’s. Do you need anything?”

“Oh, no thanks, Bree.”
 

“Well, I’ve left the pizza heating in the oven, and I’ve made the lemonade. See you later.”

Bree closed the door without waiting for an answer. Miri sat frozen, feeling as if she was in a dream and terrified she would wake up at any second. She watched Nick shrug off his jacket and set it down on the studio sofa before walking out to the terrace, his gaze sweeping around the garden before settling on her. But her joy at seeing him quickly tumbled when she saw the strain on his face, the faint lines between his brows deeper than she remembered. She was the cause of his hurt.
 

Yet, he was here.
 

Nick dragged a chair close to hers, his expression somber as he sat down to face her. “You’re pale, Marisa. Far too pale.”
 

“I know, so I’m starting on a tan.” She ghosted a smile, but it faltered a moment later when he didn’t laugh. “You look so…businesslike.”

“I arrived in New York this afternoon and came straight here.”

“Did you drive up?”
 

“No, helicopter.”

“Oh.” She shouldn’t have been surprised, but she was. “Do you have a helicopter?”

“Of course. Doesn’t everyone?” He raised a brow in humor, but it fell to a frown a moment later. “Are you doing okay?”

Miri nodded her lie. “And you?”