Broken (17 page)

“But the other partners don’t know about this?”

“No. And I would appreciate it if you would keep it that way.”

I nodded my head. No way would I do something to get him into trouble. “Uh, I hate to ask this, but how can you afford that? I mean, that gets expensive after a little while, doesn’t it?”

His face softened and he took my hands. “Scotty. I’m a very wealthy man.”

Well, I knew that. Property-wise, I knew that, at least in looking at his loft and his artwork. I didn’t know how liquid he was, but I guessed that he probably had a lot of cash as well. But it still didn’t sit right with me that he would be paying me out of his personal account.

He looked like he was holding his breath. “Please don’t leave the firm,” he said. “I’m sorry for deceiving you, but I had the best of intentions.”

I was thinking about the situation while I ate my food. On the one hand, it felt plenty weird to be working for a firm and only getting paid from Nick’s account. On the other hand, aside from my run-ins with Portia, I was really enjoying working for this firm. The other partners were so helpful and kind, and I was already acquiring a few mentors who would be glad to help guide my career. I felt myself blossoming there, so I really didn’t want to leave.

And there was the fact that I was madly in love with this blue-eyed man who was looking at me with equal doses panic and love right that very minute. It rankled that he deceived me, but he really did it with a good heart, so I couldn’t be angry.

I took a deep breath. “No, Nick, I’m not going to leave. I wish you would have told me, though.”

He looked visibly relieved. “I’m sorry, Scotty. I didn’t think that you would take the position if you knew. I had a hard enough time convincing you as it is.”

“I do have to admit that I feel a little…cheap. But, you’re right, I couldn’t afford to work for the firm unpaid, so, at the same time, I’m really grateful to you.” I paused. “I owe you a ton.”

“You don’t owe me a thing,” he said. “You’re really something special, so I’m glad to do anything for you. And I mean absolutely anything.”

“Thanks, but I feel that I do owe you.” Then I smiled. “Who knows, maybe one day when I become the next Zaha Hadid, and I make my own millions, I can pay you back.”

He smiled too. “You’re talented enough to become the next Zaha Hadid, so I don’t doubt that you will make your own millions. But you really do not owe me a thing.”

We chatted a bit more, and I tried very hard not to ask him about Portia’s man-whore comments. I felt myself, once again, getting sucked into the feeling that Nick was the man of my dreams. The one who would protect me and love me and finally give me the sense of permanence and stability that I had craved my entire life.

But I tamped down that feeling as we walked back into the office. I still wasn’t ready to let him get too close.

He was way too dangerous.

Chapter 31

Nick

Ok, I thought as I walked along with Scotty back to our building, it’s time to take the bull by the horns. No more pussy-footing around with Portia. Scotty doesn’t come right out and tell me how Portia is treating her, but I know Portia, and I know that she probably was treating her like crap. And why Portia felt the need to say anything to her about her not getting paid was beyond me.

I also didn’t appreciate Portia going over my head and demanding that Scotty work for her. I had no idea why Portia would do this, unless she wanted Scotty to torment. Other interns had refused to work for her before, and it was never a problem. To my knowledge, she never forced anybody else to work for her. So, she must be forcing Scotty to work for her because she wants to make Scotty’s life hell, so that she will quit.

Over my dead fucking body.

After I said my goodbyes to Scotty, I made my way to Portia’s office. Her grandfather was one of the founders of this firm, so her name, Anson, was one of the firm names – Anson, White and Stroker. Because she was a huge rainmaker and because she was eye-candy, no doubt about it, the men around here were either afraid to cross her or didn’t want to.

I was neither. I won the AIA Gold Medal three times, and the Pritzker once. The Pritzker is considered to be the Nobel Prize of architecture. Only one other architect at the firm could boast as much. So what if Portia was one of the most important partners, in terms of revenue? I was heavily recruited to this firm, and my coming to work here was a big fucking deal.

I could take her.

I got to her office and knocked on the open door. Her face lit up. “Nick. What a pleasant surprise.” She slinked over to me. “What can I do for you?”

I took a deep breath. “Why do you hate her?”

“Who?”

“Scotty. Why do you hate her?”

She looked disappointed, but said nothing. She sat back down behind her desk and motioned to the chair in front of it. I sat down, and crossed my arms in front of me.

She looked me right in the eye. “I hate her because you love her.”

What does that supposed to mean?
It never once occurred to me that Portia might actually like me. I figured that I was nothing but a conquest for her.

“Listen, Portia. I’m going to tell you one time. Leave her alone. You didn’t get the hint when I took her off your service. So, I need to make it more
clear for you. She’s my intern, I was the one who brought her aboard, and I won’t have you fucking with her. Got that?”

Her body language became as defensive as mine. “You never addressed my last comment. I see the way that you look at her. You’re banging her, and you’re in love with her.”

“I’m not banging her,” I said, not addressing the second part of her previous statement.

My evasiveness was not lost on her. “I said two things,” she said. “You’re banging her and you’re in love with her. You didn’t address the second thing.”

I drew a breath. “Leave her alone, Portia. I mean it.” I suddenly felt extremely uncomfortable. Claustrophobic, even. My feelings for Scotty were obvious to Portia. Perhaps it was as obvious to the others in the firm? That wouldn’t be good. To say the least.

But, no, probably not. Men are pretty obtuse when it comes to things like that. Women always had intuitions and gut feelings that turned out to be right, more often than not. And Portia was smarter than most women. Of course she figured it out.

She narrowed her eyes. “Be careful, O’Hara. You don’t want to start a war here. You will lose. I promise you that.”

“Oh, yeah? I don’t think so.” But, even as I said it, I knew that I was only partially bluffing. Yeah, I was important to this firm, but so was she. Who was more important, I really didn’t know.

I only knew that I had to protect Scotty from this woman, no matter the cost.

We were at an impasse. Both of us just sat there, staring at one another. She was trying to dominate me, apparently, and I was doing the same to her.

Finally Portia spoke. “Well, Nick, we’ll just have to see who prevails here. Between you and me, I do think that Scotty has a lot of talent. I would never tell anybody else that, though. But that doesn’t mean that I don’t want her gone, because I do. And I always get what I want. Especially here. Fair warning.”

I tried to find a way out of this trap in my head. I was gambling with Scotty’s future, here, by antagonizing Portia. That wasn’t fair. If Portia wanted her gone, and I clearly wanted her to stay, I had no idea who the partners would side with. And Scotty was nothing more than a disposable intern to them. Fungible, almost. It would certainly be easy just to throw her overboard simply because Queen Portia wanted them to.

Would I have to resort to kissing Portia’s ass in order for Scotty to stay? That wasn’t what I wanted to do. I wanted to bash that beautiful face of hers into the wall. Which was out of the question, of course, but fighting Portia for Scotty wasn’t. But it probably wasn’t the most prudent course of action. And if my calculation was incorrect, Scotty would the one who would lose.

Finally, I just took a deep breath. “Ok, Portia, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for barging in here. Uh, if I could help you out in any way on your Penske project, please let me know.”

She sat back, her posture much more open and less defensive. “Actually, Nick,” she said softly, “I don’t really need any help with my projects. I’ve been trying to figure you out, though. I’ll admit, you’ve been the first man who has rejected me. It hurts and intrigues at the same time. I simply can’t figure out what you want with that waif, when you can have a real woman.”

I looked at her, trying to decide if she was being manipulative or genuine.
I wish I had Ryan’s skill in reading people.
Because she was all but admitting that she had feelings for me that I never figured would enter into the equation. But if she did have feelings for me, then my love for Scotty just made everything infinitely more complicated here.

My mind was turning on how to respond to her. Finally, I just decided that some flattery was in order. “Portia, you’re a beautiful and desirable woman. Trust, the right guy is out there for you. I don’t believe that I am that right guy, though.”

She looked down and didn’t say anything for a few minutes. Then she looked up. “Do you think that I’m too much of a ballbreaker?”

Oh, Jesus, how do I finesse this?
Getting involved with Scotty was making me into something that I wasn’t, and that was a schmoozer. Before I met Scotty, I pretty much told everybody everything that was on my mind. If they liked it, great. If they didn’t, tough shit. So, if Scotty’s future wasn’t at stake here, I would have come right out and told Portia that she was, in fact, a ballbreaker. But, antagonizing her wasn’t a good idea, so I simply said “no, not at all. You’re a passionate woman and a hard-charger. If you were a man, you would be revered for those traits.” Then I smiled, feeling proud of that answer.

It did seem to work. Portia’s ego seemed to be at least somewhat sated. “Yeah, you’re right. I’m aggressive, but I’m only considered a bitch because of my gender.” She nodded. “Well, I feel better now, Nick.”

“Good,” I said. Then I wondered if I should bring up Scotty again. It might raise her hackles some more, or it might clear the air. Again, I didn’t quite know how to handle the situation, but I went with my first instinct. “So, about Scotty. Are we cool, here?”

She looked at me with a bit of a blank look. “Cool in what way?”

“She can continue to work here without you harassing her?”

Portia snorted. “Like hell. No, Nick, I want that girl gone. And I’ll find a way to make that happen. So don’t get too used to having her around.”

I bit my tongue and stopped myself from doing violence on this woman. I had never laid a hand on a female before, ever, but I had never been more tempted to do so then right at that very moment. “Ok, then, Portia. You leave me no choice. You try to get her fired, and we’ll see who the firm chooses between me and you.” Then I threw her own words back at her. “Fair warning.”

And, at that, I got up and left Portia’s office.

Chapter 32

A week went by, rather quietly, as far as the Portia and Scotty situation. Portia actually backed off and left Scotty alone. How long that truce would last was anybody’s guess, but I held my breath and hoped that Portia finally thought better of trying to railroad Scotty out of a job. Probably not. She probably was biding her time like a tiger stalking her prey, but, regardless, this rather peaceful interlude was most welcome.

Thanksgiving was around the corner, next Thursday, and I had been looking for a way to invite Scotty over to my house for Thanksgiving dinner. I had never in my life been shy about anything, especially when it came to pursuing women, but I found myself increasingly tongue-tied and shy around Scotty. I was actually afraid of her rejecting me, which was strange in and of itself.

So, I found myself actually practicing what I would say to Scotty when I invited her over to my loft for Thanksgiving. I felt like a middle-school boy asking a girl to his first dance. Crazy.

I stood in front of the mirror in my office, as I took a much-needed break from my Chase drafting project. “So, Scotty, you got any plans for Thanksgiving? No? Well, I’m having some food catered in, and was wondering if you’d like to spend Thanksgiving with me.” I was somewhat embarrassed at always having to have meals catered in, but cooking was never my strong suit. Nor was it Rielle’s, my ex-wife. So, the two of us, plus our two children, ended up eating out almost every night.

Oh, god, it occurred to me that I actually wanted to cook Thanksgiving Dinner, if only to impress Scotty.

That was when I realized just how pussy-whipped I really was.

And, the crazy thing was that I didn’t mind being pussy-whipped.

I took a deep breath and headed over to Scotty’s cubicle. I stood and watched her from afar. Her head was down, and she was concentrating on the design project that she was working on for one of George’s residential buildings. She apparently was lost in the project, because she never looked up at all. I admired how intense she was, how driven. Such a contrast to her somewhat shy and sweet demeanor that she showed to the world. The dichotomy of driven and passionate architect and guileless and simple sweet girl, rolled up in one person, was fascinating for me.

I decided to stand there just to see how long it would take her to notice me there, not ten feet away. I smiled as the minutes ticked by, as she furiously worked her pencil, completely lost in what she was doing.

After about fifteen minutes, she finally took a little break for a stretch. It was then that she finally noticed me standing there. Her face lit up, and I started feeling nervous again.

I approached her. “Hey, Scotty. How are things going here? I mean, today. How are things?”

She smiled. “Great, Nick. How are things with you?”

“Good. Good.” Then I just stood there like a geek, staring at her.

“Good.” She smiled again.

“Hey, do you mind if I see what you’re working on?”

“No, of course not,” she said, then showed me a design that she working on for a Neo-Classical mansion that would be built in Bridgeport. It was flawless, with precise angles and decorative features such as friezes, balustrades and Doric columns. I was, once again, impressed at how advanced she was for somebody her age and with her limited experience. I, myself, was always advanced in comparison to my peers, so we had that in common. I had a good ten years on her, of course, but I could foresee a Pritzker of her own in her future.

“That’s a beautiful design,” I said. “George will be more than pleased.”

Then I just stood there, tongue-tied, looking at her. She was staring at me, as well, those green eyes penetrating and searching.

I cleared my throat.
What is your problem, O’Hara? You’ve never, ever had problems talking to women before. Ever.
“Uh, Scotty, uh, I was wondering. Well, you know, Thanksgiving is around the corner. I mean, I don’t cook, but I was having some food catered in by Dean and Deluca. Turkey, dressing, the usual. So, I was wondering if you’d like to have a catered meal with me on Thanksgiving?”

She smiled shyly, and it looked like she was trying to suppress a giggle. “Oh, Nick, that’s such a nice offer. But, I, uh, I’m supposed to be at my mother’s at three.”

I felt crushed. Absolutely crushed. But, I tried not to show it. “Oh, of course. I keep forgetting that you have a mother in town. Well, I just wanted to see if you were busy, but I guess you are, so…”

She smiled again, and it briefly looked like she was going to offer me her hand. “You’re such a sweet guy,” she said. “I wish that things were different. That I was different.”

I nodded my head, and turned to leave.

But her words echoed in my head.
I wish that things were different. That I was different.

All I could think was
so do I, Scotty. So do I.