Into the Night (25 page)

For the most part, Nicole preferred to research and write her features outside the main office, and luckily her assignments didn’t require she spend a whole lot of time in her cramped cubicle. And in this wonderful day and age of sending in her articles via e-mail attachments, as she’d done with her online dating feature and the commentary on Preston Sloane’s involvement with the new women’s shelter, she only needed to be present for any required meetings.

Nicole waited for Michelle to finish the call she was on. As soon as she hung up, Nicole stepped forward with her offering. “Hey, girlfriend. I brought you some liquid fortitude for the editorial meeting.”

Michelle spun around in her chair, her eyes bright with gratitude. “You are a
goddess,
” she said with a grin, and wrapped her fingers around the paper cup before taking a long sip of the sweetened latte.

Closing her eyes, she moaned her pleasure as she savored the coffee drink, and Nicole laughed at her friend’s enthusiastic display.

“That’s almost as good as sex,” Michelle teased, and licked a splotch of foam from her upper lip. “How did you know I desperately needed caffeine this morning?”

Nicole shrugged. “Lucky guess.” And she just knew her friend that well. It didn’t matter the time of day—Michelle always appreciated a cup of designer coffee.

Michelle set the cup down on her desk, her gaze turning soft and sincere. “I’ve missed having you around. The apartment is so quiet and lonely without you.”

As much as she enjoyed Michelle’s friendship, Nicole realized she’d settled into a comfortable routine with Nathan in the short time they’d been living together.
Too
comfortable, if the sudden rapid beating of her heart was any indication.

She’d grown used to having her meals with Nathan, used to sleeping with him throughout the night, and used to their easy conversations, which encompassed a wide variety of topics they sometimes agreed upon, and other times argued about. But even those debates she found stimulating and invigorating because he challenged her intellectually and respected her opinions.

She told herself the familiarity was a result of their proximity, and indulging in the hottest sex of her life on a regular basis was a perk of their agreement. Yet there were times she caught him watching her doing mundane things around the apartment, his gaze so warm and caring she experienced a deep, inexplicable yearning for something more.

At certain times, he made her feel weak—not physically, but emotionally, deep in her heart where it mattered the most. And that realization literally scared the crap out of the strong, independent woman she’d become when she’d sworn she would never allow a man to have that kind of control over her feelings ever again.

Realizing that her mind had traveled down a road better off not traveled, she refocused on Michelle and the discussion they’d been having.

“I thought you and Robert would be taking advantage of the fact that I haven’t been at the apartment,” Nicole teased, and took a drink of her vanilla latte, which was finally the perfect temperature.

A blush swept over Michelle’s cheeks. “Oh, we have, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t missed you.”

“I’ll be back before you know it,” she said, and immediately dismissed the deep pang in her chest at the thought of leaving Nathan behind. But she would, just as soon as they both finished the job they’d promised to do. “Hopefully after this weekend.”

“Really?” Michelle asked, the one word brimming with a wealth of questions she didn’t dare voice with so many inquiring ears around.

“We’re heading out to the estate tomorrow,” Nicole told her, knowing her friend would figure out exactly what that meant.

Michelle stared at her with unmistakable concern in her eyes. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Absolutely.” Nicole had come this far, and she wasn’t going to back out now.

Knowing there was nothing she could say or do to change Nicole’s decision, Michelle didn’t bother arguing, which Nicole appreciated.

She was ready and willing to do whatever it took to bring Sloane down. She wanted an exposé on Sloane so badly she could taste it, but she also realized that safely retrieving Angela was their main priority. The possibility that Nicole could walk away from all this without a story was a risk she was willing to take if it meant giving even one girl a real future.

Michelle leaned back in her chair and picked up her latte again. “So, how is Tall, Dark, and Handsome?”

Nicole smiled at the nickname her friend had given Nathan. “He’s good,” she replied nonchalantly, certain she knew where Michelle was heading with her line of questioning.

Michelle regarded Nicole speculatively. Having met Nathan a few times, her good friend insisted there was more than just a sexual spark there.

“Is anything serious going to come of all this between the two of you?” she asked optimistically.

“Of course not,” Nicole said, and meant it, but her friend didn’t look as convinced. “Look, he’s a great guy, and I’m enjoying my time with him. But we have a common goal, and once it’s met, we’re going our separate ways.”

Catching sight of her co-workers heading toward the conference room, Nicole jumped on the excuse to change the subject before Michelle could grill her further. “Looks like the meeting is getting ready to start. We’d better head that way ourselves.”

Michelle smirked, seeing right through Nicole’s attempt to put an end to the discussion. “You’ve always been good at avoiding conversations about your love life.”

“It’s a honed skill,” Nicole said, only half kidding. “Besides, love has nothing to do with Nathan and me.”

“Too bad.” Michelle sounded genuinely disappointed as she stood up and grabbed a file folder from her desk. “He seems like a really good match for you.”

Yeah, he was an amazing guy, but Nicole wasn’t such a great catch. She was smart enough to face the fact that she carried around a lot of emotional baggage, and she was better off committing to her work than a man.

Together, they walked to the conference room, then took a seat next to each other as the chairs around the large table quickly filled up with co-workers. Finally, Sharon entered and took her place at the head of the table, and the editorial meeting began.

The group gave their input on artwork for a future issue of the magazine, and suggestions for different and unique columns to add to the periodical were tossed out for consideration. Contributing writers were assigned topics to cover for upcoming features, and Nicole was less than thrilled when Sharon enthusiastically informed her that her next two articles would entail a “Date My Friend” party, and a “Dating in the Dark” meet-and-mingle.

Everyone seemed excited to start their next project, except Nicole. As the meeting came to an end and her co-workers filtered out of the conference room, anxious to get a jump-start on all their exciting new features and stories, Nicole found it difficult to drum up even an ounce of enthusiasm for her next two assignments. Instead, she felt an overwhelming sense of dread at the thought of spending the next few weeks researching, and writing about, yet more dating trends.

Everything about the meeting reinforced her decision to start looking for a new job. It was a choice she had to make in order to save her sanity. The fluff pieces were stifling her as a journalist, and didn’t give her any kind of mental challenge or creative outlet. She wanted,
needed,
to write stimulating stories and features that inspired people or provided controversy to make them think.

That had always been her goal, and with the
Commentary
focusing more on entertainment, style, and escapism, she was feeling more and more boxed in as a writer. Starting over as low man on the totem pole somewhere new didn’t hold a lot of appeal, but life was too short to stay with a job she was coming to hate.

Maybe it was time to really shake up the direction of her career and move to a bigger city with bigger opportunities. Unfortunately, all she had to her credit was a portfolio of light, frivolous articles and features that most editors at major-league publications would be less than impressed with.

The room was empty except for her and Sharon, and with a tired sigh Nicole gathered her day planner of notes and stood, resigned to writing the next couple of dating articles until she had the chance to put together a strong résumé and a better offer came along.

Sharon stood, too, smiling at Nicole. “I’ve been meaning to tell you, good job on the feature you wrote on Preston Sloane and the women’s shelter. I know it was a last-minute assignment, but I appreciate you stepping in and covering the piece.”

“It’s my job.” Despite loathing the man and everything he stood for, one of the first rules she’d learned when it came to writing for
The Las Vegas Commentary
was to keep her personal feelings out of the stories she wrote. It was all about facts, entertainment, and feel-good features. No one who picked up the
Commentary
wanted to read about a pedophile.

Still, she hated the pretty lies and false perceptions she’d been forced to write about Sloane and his do-good deed with the women’s shelter.

Suppressing her resentment and anger, she turned away from Sharon and headed for the door. “Though how we can print such glorified crap about a man who is the epitome of scum is beyond me,” she muttered beneath her breath.

“Excuse me?” Sharon asked sharply.

Nicole came to an abrupt stop and squeezed her eyes closed in frustration, knowing she’d overstepped boundaries she never should have crossed at work. The hostile words had just slipped out of her mouth uncensored, and even though she knew she shouldn’t have said anything derogatory, she wasn’t about to apologize for the truth.

She faced Sharon, who’d crossed her arms over her breasts and looked none too happy about Nicole’s disparaging comment.

Well, tough shit, Nicole thought. She wasn’t about to sugarcoat her feelings about the situation, or Sloane, even if it meant getting her walking papers for speaking her mind. There were some things she refused to compromise, and one was her integrity.

“I wrote that feature on Sloane and his contribution to the women’s shelter because I didn’t have a choice,” she stated without apology. “As a journalist, I know I have to be unbiased on whatever subject I’m writing about, despite my own personal opinions and feelings, and that’s exactly what I did with Sloane. But it literally made me sick to glorify what he wants everyone to believe was an altruistic, compassionate gesture toward abused women when that’s exactly what
he
does. The man is a hypocrite when it comes to promoting his public perception, and I hate that I had to support his duplicity.”

Sharon’s gaze widened in shock at Nicole’s outspoken condemnation of Preston Sloane. “You don’t know any of that for a fact,” she replied carefully.

Oh, but she did. Nicole had up-close, personal, heartbreaking knowledge of Sloane’s operations. As much as she wanted to enlighten Sharon, she didn’t dare. Not only did she not want her editor to know what she was doing on the side, but Nicole wasn’t about to jeopardize Nathan’s case in any way.

Still, she wasn’t willing to let the subject die just yet. “Can you honestly say you haven’t heard rumblings about his preference for underage girls?”

“I won’t confirm or deny anything, and it’s not your job to go digging in that direction, either,” Sharon warned, and ended the discussion by walking out of the conference room.

No, it wasn’t Nicole’s place to dig into such a controversial story as an entertainment writer for
The Las Vegas Commentary.
But what she did on her own private time was her own business. Someone had to help those girls who’d succumbed to Sloane’s promises of affection and material possessions, and Nicole was committed to doing whatever it took to rescue Angela this weekend, and to save any other girl who wanted out.

*   *   *

He’d promised to protect her. He’d promised to make sure she was safe and guarded. And she died. Murdered. Her senseless death was all because he’d failed to shield her from the evil stalking her, waiting for the chance to end her life before she could testify.

With a strangled gasp, Nathan shot upright in bed, his body damp with sweat and his heart pounding hard and fast in his chest. He forced the haunting images from his mind, but the awful sense of grief and failure remained, and he feared it always would.

“Nathan?” Nicole stirred on the bed beside him, her sleepy voice tinged with concern. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he lied, his throat raspy and raw. “I’m fine. Go back to sleep.”

Knowing any chance of rest would elude him after that rude awakening, Nathan got out of bed, pulled on a pair of sweatpants, and headed into the living room so he didn’t disturb Nicole by tossing and turning for the rest of the night.

Standing at the floor-to-ceiling window overlooking the bright lights of the Strip, he splayed his hand on the cool pane of glass and exhaled a soul-deep sigh that did nothing to ease his guilt. The pain of the past still sliced deep, and with the pressure of getting Angela out of Sloane’s estate this weekend messing with his psyche, was it any wonder the nightmares had returned?