Crash Into Me (19 page)

I
kissed him on the cheek. "No, I'd rather come back here, if it's all the
same."

Tristan
turned his head to look at me, his eyebrows raised. "You mean you'd rather
come back to this out of the way house in the middle of nowhere?"

Leveling
my gaze at him, I stopped my hands' work and grinned. Rogers had obviously
mentioned my comment from that night we'd chatted outside. "Yes. If you
must know, I've grown to appreciate this house, even though it's a bit
secluded. I like to think of it as our home."

He
took my hands from his shoulders and brought them to his lips for a kiss.
"I can't tell you how happy that makes me, Nina."

The
unspoken reality that my six-month contract was almost up hung in the air like
a heaviness that pressed down on us. I hadn't mentioned it because I feared
what he might say. Even now, after all we'd shared together, he was still a
mystery to me in many ways. I'd expected him to say something about it ending
soon, but as each day passed, he was silent on the matter, as if he'd
forgotten.

I'd
just as soon have had him forget, to be honest. What if he was able to let me
go as easily as firing any other employee? In my heart, I knew he loved me and
no longer thought of me as merely someone who worked for him, but in the past
few weeks I'd sensed something between us holding him back from me. I wanted to
believe it was whatever he was dealing with at work, but a tiny fear sat in the
back of my mind whispering that no matter what we'd been to one another, when
the six months was up, so was our time together.

Pushing
that out of my head, I said, "So it's settled. I'll visit Jordan and then be back so we can have dinner. Maybe tomorrow night can be pizza
night?"

"Tony's?"
he asked with a smile in his voice.

I
stroked the hair near his nape, loving its softness. Bowing my head, I ran my
lips over it and whispered, "I like that."

"Okay.
Tony's at six. It's a date."

"A
date," I said as I kissed along his neck to just below his left ear.
"I'll be there."

Chapter Eighteen

The
next day went by quickly as I proudly showed off my choices for the Miami hotel, which Tristan vetoed as I suspected he would, saying he liked the artist but
not that particular circle piece. So I continued my search. It was more
difficult than I'd anticipated, but when I contacted the artist's
representative and told her I was looking to purchase one of Delgado's purple
and gold series for the Richmont hotel in Miami, she was far nicer than I'd
expected, even offering to have him sign the piece we chose.

The
old saying really was true. Money did talk.

By
mid-afternoon, I was feeling triumphant about my new acquisition and couldn't
wait to tell Tristan about it at dinner, even if it meant breaking the "no
work after five" rule. It was a breezy early October afternoon, so I
dressed in a dark red dress that fell to right above my knees and black pumps,
a celebration outfit of sorts and one I was sure Tristan would love for our
date. As I looked at myself in the mirror in our bedroom, a decadent idea
popped into my mind. Sexy stockings and a garter belt would be even better.

I
slipped them on and attached them to the garter, loving the feel of their silkiness
against my skin. I'd love it more when they drove him mad with desire as he
tried to concentrate on the road in just a few hours.

Pleased
with how I looked, I hurriedly checked my bank account to pay my cell phone
bill and saw once again that I had more money than I'd anticipated. Despite
working for the stated salary of $60,000, after five months I had over four
times that amount in my checking account. Even after all this time, I still
marveled at the numbers as they sat there on the screen. For the first time in
my life, money wasn't a concern.

It
also added to my fear that Tristan was going to simply let me go when my six
months were up. Why would he make sure I had so much money if he was going to
want me to stay? I wanted to believe that this was just one of his ways of
showing me how much he loved me, but every time I checked my balance, an
emptiness formed in the pit of my stomach.

Jordan's famous words echoed in my head—
Good things happen to good people, Nina.
I
wanted to believe that more than anything. Closing my laptop, I hoped she was
right.

I
stepped out of the black Town Car in front of the apartment and a brisk wind
blew my dress up nearly around my waist, a la Marilyn Monroe on the subway
grate. A group of men across the street whistled, making me feel right at home
back in Brooklyn. I bounded up the steps, dying to see my best friend, as the
men yelled my name and compliments on my red dress.

As
I reached the door, I turned around and waved, yelling, "Thanks!" Jordan waited in the apartment doorway at the top of the stairs with a huge grin on her
face.

"Look
at you! I love it! This new life of yours looks good on you."

I
reached her and took her in my arms for a big hug. "It looks good?" I
asked as she held me out at arm's length to check out my outfit again.

"Oh,
honey. You look incredible. Same old Nina in a wonderful new package."

I
beamed at her compliment. I felt wonderful and wanted the whole world to know
it.

"Well,
come in. Tell me everything. I need to know the details," Jordan ordered as she pulled me into the apartment.

Everything
looked the same as it had when I'd left months earlier, except now there were
some pictures on the living room walls. Turning toward Jordan, I pointed at them. "I leave and now there's artwork on the walls?"

She
sat down in her chair across from my seat on the couch and chuckled. "I
wouldn't call it artwork. Just some pictures. I had a little more money since
your boyfriend paid your portion of the rent and more that day."

"More?
How much more?" I asked, suddenly worried he was trying to buy me.

"About
two grand. I told him I didn't feel right taking it, but he insisted. I assumed
you knew because you asked him to."

I
shook my head and frowned. "No. He never told me. And as much as you know
I'd give you my last dime, I didn't ask."

"Why
the frown? It's okay that you didn't ask."

"It's
not that, Jordan. I just worry that he's trying to buy things he
shouldn't."

"Like
your love?"

"Yeah,"
I answered quietly.

"Honey,
if he was trying to buy your love, wouldn't he have told you he did this?"

"I
guess. It's just..." I didn't know how to complain about all the money in
my bank account and not sound like a spoiled child. "He's done the same
thing with me. Instead of paying me the amount I'm supposed to get, he's paid
me nearly five times more."

"And
the problem with that is?"

Jordan's expression told me she still thought I was acting silly all these months later.
"I know what you're going to say. I should just enjoy this, right? It's
just that my six months are almost up. What if he is giving me all this money
because he doesn't plan to stay with me and wants to make himself feel good
about it?"

"Still
overthinking this, I see."

"But
what if it's true?"

"Have
you asked him?"

Looking
down at my hands as they sat folded in my lap, I shook my head. "No. I'm
too afraid of what he'd say."

"How
much longer is there on your contract?"

"A
few weeks."

"And
has he been acting weird, like a boyfriend getting ready to break up with you?
You know. Not answering calls or texts. Not showing up for dates. Has the sex
fallen off?"

As
I listened to her laundry list of signs, I couldn't say yes to one. He always
answered my texts, never failed to be where he said he would be at exactly the
time he said he would, and the sex had continued to be mind blowing.

"No
to all," I admitted with a shrug. "He's wonderful, even though things
at work seem to be constantly on his mind."

"So,
let me get this straight. Your gorgeous, billionaire boyfriend treats you like
a queen and makes sure you have piles of money to spend on yourself, and you're
worried he's going to leave you? You're a bright girl, Nina. Figure it
out."

"I
know it sounds stupid, but I can't help it. I'm dreading the day that contract
ends."

That
was the cold, hard truth. I was sick to death over a date on the calendar. It
never left my mind, no matter how much money he put in my account, no matter
how many times he told me he loved me.

Jordan leaned forward and touched me on the knee, jarring me out of my thoughts about that
day just weeks away. "Enough of this crazy talk. Tell me how he is in bed.
And don't leave out the details. I'll know if you do."

A
blush spread from the top of my head all the way to the tip of my toes. Even
before I said a word, she clapped her hands together and exclaimed, "I
knew it! No man who sounds so incredibly sexy when he speaks about something as
boring as paying someone's rent could be bad in bed."

"Stop
it! You're embarrassing me!" I cried, half joking. "I'm not telling
you a thing."

"You
don't have to say a word. It's written all over your face. I bet he's hung like
a horse, isn't he?"

"Jordan!" The blush intensified at her words, confirming that she'd hit the nail on the
head.

"I
swear there's not a thing wrong with this man, Nina. If you say you're worried
about anything with him one more time, I'm going to kick you out of this
apartment and never speak to you again."

"That's
harsh."

"I'm
not kidding, Nina. I could understand if he lacked in one or two areas, but
he's perfect."

"He's
not perfect. I think many women wouldn't like how he's so possessive."

She
laughed out loud. "The only time any woman dislikes a possessive man is if
he keeps her from doing things she likes. Tristan doesn't do that, so I doubt
there'd be many women in this world who wouldn't be madly in love with him just
as he is."

I
must have had a worried look on my face because she added, "And don't
start thinking he's cheating on you or you have to be concerned about other
women. That's not what I'm saying."

Putting
my hands up in surrender, I smiled. "I know. I'm being stupid. You don't
have to say it again."

"Good.
I don't like telling people I love that they're being stupid, but I will when I
have to. Tough love."

"Enough
about me. Tell me about Justin, school, everything," I said, giving the
subject a much needed change.

Jordan gave chapter and verse about how things had progressed with Justin, how she thought
they were moving toward possibly moving in together, her class of third graders
and how cute they were, and all the news of the neighborhood, including what
she thought of the new weird guy on the first floor.

"Do
you think Mrs. Phillips will be okay?" I asked, growing concerned about
the elderly lady.

"I
hope so. I haven't seen her in a few days, but you know how she is. If she
doesn't come out for grocery day on Friday, then I'll be worried."

"I'd
hate to see something happen to her, Jordan. She's always so nice when she
invites us to her apartment for cookies and that crazy spiked egg nog at
Christmastime. I'm going to stop in just to see if everything's okay."

"Well,
now you've guilted me, so I'll go with you. I just hope I don't have to see
that guy."

As
we left, I grabbed the letter I'd come for and stuffed it into my purse to read
later. We walked down to the first floor as Jordan explained how creepy Mrs.
Phillips' grandson was. Even without seeing him, I was repulsed. Greasy blond
hair and crooked, yellow teeth were never a good combination.

The
elderly woman's door was open just a crack, but I had a bad vibe about going
in. Tugging Jordan back as she pushed the door open, I whispered, "No way.
If that creepy guy is there, who knows what he'll do. This has the beginning of
every Law and Order episode written all over it."

Nodding,
she agreed. "Yeah, let's get the hell out of here. I'll check on her later
with Justin."

The
two of us hurried out of the building to grab a bite to eat and ran straight
into Mrs. Phillips' grandson as he hit the top of the front steps. I scanned
his face and saw he was more than just ugly. He was definitely high on
something. Gripping Jordan's arm tightly, I whispered, "We need to go.
He's not okay."

His
bloodshot eyes stared into mine, and I knew he'd heard what I said. Before we
could get away, he lunged at us and yanked on the straps of my bag. I tried to
pull away from him, but whatever he was on made him superhero strong and he
wrenched the bag down my arm to the crook of my elbow, pulling me down with it.
Jordan screamed, scaring him, and he gave one last violent tug. The bag
ripped down my forearm, and as he grabbed it, his elbow slammed into my head.
Pain spiked out across the top of my skull, radiating all the way to my ear,
and I fell back into Jordan in agony.

"Nina!
Are you okay?" she asked as she cradled me in her arms.

I
heard Jenson's voice barking some order at Jordan as I closed my eyes in agony
from the pain. A headache instantly tore through my head, making me cry. I
don't know how long I laid there with Jordan, but at some point Jenson lifted
me from the concrete porch and carried me to the car.

The
leather seat felt so cool against my skin as I lay there in the back of the
Town Car while Jordan smoothed my hair from my face. Jenson returned a minute
later and took off, driving quickly through the streets of Sunset Park.

"Honey,
how's your head?" Jordan asked quietly. "Let me see."

I
leaned forward, making me feel like my head was swimming, and Jordan lightly rubbed her hand over the back of my hair. "It hurts, Jordan. Am I
bleeding?"

Lifting
my head, I saw a tiny red splotch on her palm. "I don't know, honey. It
doesn't seem like you're bleeding a lot, but you're starting to swell up."
She turned around to speak to Jenson. "Hey, are you taking her to the
hospital? She might need a doctor."

"Miss,
Mr. Stone has been contacted and he wants her back at the house."

Jordan wanted to say something more to the driver, but I grabbed her arm and shook my head
slowly. "It's okay. I'm sure if I need something, Tristan will take care
of it. But you get to see the house," I said with a smile, but even that
made my head hurt even more.

"How
long will it take?" she asked as we raced toward the Taconic.

"At
the rate he's going, no time. Don't worry. Everything will be fine," I
joked, trying to hide how terrified I was as my head began to throb all the way
down to the base of my skull.

Jenson
held his hand back toward Jordan. "I found this on the steps."

She
took what sat in his palm and held it up to show me. "He got your phone,
at least."

I
laughed a little. Leave it to Jordan. "Yeah. At least he knows what's
important. Did he get my bag?"

Leaning
forward toward Jenson, she asked, "Did you get Nina's bag?"

"Yes,
miss." He held out his hand and passed my purse back to Jordan. "I'm afraid there's nothing left in it, though."

She
looked inside and saw Jenson had told the truth. Shrugging, she said, "At
least he didn't get the bag. It's a gorgeous bag."

I
moaned in a mixture of pain and amusement. "Yeah. But my letter is gone.
Now I'll never know if the IRS was going to audit me."

"What?"
she asked, confused by my inside joke.

"Never
mind. I think I'm just going to close my eyes and relax until we get
there."

I
felt the car stop and then the door flew open and hands reached in and scooped
me up from the seat. They were strong and I knew they were Tristan's. Opening
my eyes, I saw his face and those brown eyes so full of concern staring down at
me. I was in bad shape if his expression was any indication.