Waking Up to You Overexposed

12



IZZIE DIDN’T SEE or hear from Nick for six long days. The longest of her life.

Since she’d walked out of Harry’s office Sunday night, Nick had apparently taken her orders to leave her alone seriously, because that’s exactly what he’d done. He hadn’t tried calling, hadn’t popped in to the bakery, hadn’t even nonchalantly walked by the shop and pretended not to look in at her.

That’s what she’d done, at Santori’s, but she hadn’t seen the man at all.

“Why didn’t you fight for me?” she whispered as she drove to the other side of town Saturday evening on her way to work. “Why did you listen to me and leave me alone?”

Why did you tell him to?

Good question. And Izzie was already forgetting the answer, though it had seemed so important Sunday.

Yes, she was still upset that he’d suddenly gone from an approving coworker to a disapproving lover when it came to her dancing. But maybe they could have worked it out. Maybe he wouldn’t have reacted so badly to watching her onstage.

Maybe...hell, maybe she loved him enough that she could have quit and never regretted it.

But he hadn’t given her the chance.

In the six days since she’d seen him, Izzie was questioning a lot of the choices she’d made. After accusing Nick of living a lie, too, she’d realized that she was tired of living one all the time. So she’d actually begun to share her secret. Only with her sisters and her cousin so far, but it was a start.

And they’d been remarkably supportive. Even Gloria who had, to Izzie’s utter shock, admitted that she’d love to see her perform. Honestly, it felt as if a weight had been lifted, and she’d decided then and there to start thinking of how to work her daytime life into her nighttime one. Slowly...a little at a time. But she might just have to find a way to do it.

Because if Nick ever did come back after her, she wanted to try to find a way to make all the pieces of both their lives fit.

Performing again...that caused more stress. Izzie couldn’t deny a small amount of trepidation when she arrived at Leather and Lace Saturday night. This was her first time back since last Sunday, the night of Delilah’s confession—and her arrest. She hadn’t talked to Harry since and she was worried about what the older man was going through.

Bernie was waiting at the back door. “Hiya, Rose,” he said without a smile. Obviously the mood around here was still dour.

“Hi. Harry around?”

He shook his head. “He hasn’t been here much.” Shaking his head, he added, “Wish he’d just ditch that witch and get back to work, this club ain’t gonna run itself.”

Izzie didn’t say anything. She honestly didn’t want to think about what she’d do in her boss’s situation. He was a man who loved his wife...warts and all. Should he be faulted for that? Maybe. But it wasn’t her place to judge.

The dressing rooms and greenroom were pretty quiet for a Saturday night, any chatter between the dancers was going on quietly. Just as well. Izzie didn’t feel very social. There was only one person she wanted to see...only, she didn’t know what on earth she’d say to him when she did.

I miss you. I love you. Please love me as I am and let’s work it out.

All of the above.

He never appeared. She didn’t see him downstairs, and he certainly didn’t come to her dressing room. Izzie went through the motions getting ready, tense and anxious...but for nothing.

By the time she was ready to go on, she was seriously wondering if she’d made a mistake in coming in at all. Her heart was not in it. Not tonight. “The show must go on,” she reminded herself as she walked upstairs and took her place backstage.

She’d like to think she gave her audience her all, but as she began removing her rose petals in time to the music, she knew her heart wasn’t in it. Her heart was in little pieces, scattered around Nick Santori’s feet. Wherever he may be.

Usually, Izzie ignored the audience as she performed—it was part of her “mysterious appeal” as Harry had described it right after she’d started working here. And he’d been right.

Tonight, however, something caught her attention. Rather, someone. Normally, all were still when she performed—including the waitresses. But now, someone was walking from the back of the room straight down the center aisle toward the stage.

It was a man. A dark-haired, dark-eyed man.

A familiar dark-haired, dark-eyed man.

“Oh, God,” she whispered, stumbling a little.

Because it was Nick. A Nick like she’d never seen before.

Though he wore his typical on-the-job tough-guy uniform of black pants and tight black T-shirt, he was carrying a bouquet of roses. A huge bouquet of them. He was also smiling, his eyes locked on her, apparently not caring that she was dancing nearly naked onstage in front of a bunch of strange men.

And for the first time in her entire dancing career, Izzie did something entirely unprofessional. She committed the cardinal sin. She stopped right in the middle of her number.

“Nick,” she whispered.

He had reached the edge of the low stage, which was about as high as his midthigh and was staring up at her. The look in his eyes...oh, God, that look. He was smiling broadly, adoring her with his gaze.

He not only looked approving, he looked absolutely enraptured. “Hi, Izzie,” he said, his voice low, intimate, just for the two of them.

The music slowly faded away into silence. The audience began to murmur. One man yelled something like “Down in front,” but he was shouted down by several others who obviously wanted to see what would happen next.

She’d like to know that herself.

“Hi,” she whispered. “Uh...what are you doing?”

His smile widened. “Watching you.”

“I noticed.”

“You’re wonderful.”

She nibbled her bottom lip. “Thank you.”

“I could watch you dance every night and be a happy man.”

“Who couldn’t?” someone from a nearby table called.

Nick never even glanced over, not distracted. Instead, he lifted the bouquet and offered it to her. Izzie took it, bringing the flowers up to her masked face and sniffing the heady fragrance permeating the red blooms. “They’re beautiful.”

“I figured roses were your flower.”

“Good call.” Laughing a little, she asked, “Is there some reason you gave them to me here? And right now?”

He nodded. “I wanted you to know how proud I am of you and how much I love seeing you dance. No matter who else is here.”

He’d said it. He’d put it into words. Exactly what she needed to hear. “Oh, Nick, really?”

He nodded. “Really. I have more to say. But not here.” He glanced over his shoulder at all the men leering at them. “Some things were not meant to be done in front of an audience.” Then he looked back up at her. “And the next thing I want to say to you can’t be said when you’re wearing that mask on your face.”

She shivered, anticipation rolling through her. Oh, how she hoped she knew what it was he wanted to say to her. That it involved talk of a future. And a lot of uses of the word love.

“I’ll meet you downstairs in two-and-a-half minutes,” he said. “I’ve timed your song...that’s how much you have left.”

“You’re on,” she said with a broad smile as she clutched the flowers close to her body and slowly backed away from the edge of the stage. She put the flowers down right in front of the curtain, where she could easily retrieve them.

Nick turned around and walked back the way he’d come. From where Izzie stood, she could see every man in the place turn to watch him go. Most were regulars who had to have recognized him. And probably all of them wanted to know exactly what he’d said to her...and what he meant to her.

That was easy to explain. Everything.

Nodding toward the crew member on the side of the stage, Izzie waited for her song to resume. Now she danced joyfully, the way she hadn’t in a very long time. And she smiled during every moment of it.

As soon as the last notes of the music played, Izzie grabbed her flowers and darted toward the wings, pausing only long enough to stick her arms in her robe before tearing toward the staircase. She took the cement stairs two at a time, almost stumbling. But even if she had, it would have been okay. Because Nick was waiting at the bottom of them, staring up at her.

He would have caught her. She knew that, from now on, he would be there to catch her.

“Come on,” he murmured, taking her hand. He twined her fingers in his, then lifted them to his mouth to press a soft kiss on them. “Let’s talk privately.”

She followed him, easing against his body, her curves fitting perfectly in his angles, as if they were two pieces of a puzzle. When they reached her dressing room, Nick opened the door and held it for her, then followed her inside.

“Thank you again for the roses,” she murmured as she put them on the makeup-strewn counter. They’d already begun filling the room with their heady perfume and she inhaled of it deeply.

“You’re welcome.” He immediately added, “You were right.”

“About?”

“Everything,” he admitted evenly, making no effort to hedge or share blame for what had happened between them. Even though Izzie knew she bore some of the responsibility.

“We both...”

“No, Iz, let me finish, please. You were right to accuse me of living the same double life I’d accused you of. You had legitimate reasons, with your father’s health and your, uh...”

“Being a stripper?”

He grinned. “Yeah. That.”

“I told Gloria and Mia.”

His eyes widened. “Really? How’d they react?”

“Better than I expected.” Much better. But she’d fill him in on that later. “It’s a first step, anyway.”

“I know. I made that same step. I told my father and Tony that I wasn’t interested in the business. And what I am interested in doing.”

“Being a bodyguard?”

For the first time since he’d walked up to her during her dance, Nick looked a little hesitant. He glanced to the side, and scrunched his brow. “Well...not exactly.”

Immediately on alert, Izzie crossed her arms. “What did you do? Tell me you’re not going to be a cop like your brother!”

He shook his head, as if appalled at the idea. “Not a chance. As it turns out, Harry’s going to need to take a step back from this place to deal with Delilah’s legal situation.”

Not a surprise.

“And he asked me if I’d manage it.”

Izzie couldn’t prevent a shocked gasp. “What?”

“There’s more.”

Still stunned at the very concept, she waited, mouth agape.

“He needs an infusion of cash...I think he anticipates a lot of legal bills. I have money I’ve been socking away during all the years I bunked with Uncle Sam. So I’ve just become a part owner of this club.”

That was so unexpected, Izzie couldn’t help sinking down to her chair in absolute shock. “You’re serious?”

“Very serious.”

“You’re going to work here.”

“Uh-huh. You okay with that? Working with your husband?”

“Oh, I’ll love...” His words sunk in, banging around in her head. “What did you say?”

He smiled. “I thought diamonds would go well with roses.”

Izzie remained still, in a stunned silence, as Nick reached into his pocket and pulled out a ring. A gold one. With a big fat diamond on top of it. “I’m going to slide this on your finger, but not until you take that mask off your face.”

Dazed, she reached up and unfastened the clasps of her mask, one on each side of her head. The slow-motion feeling of the moment continued as she drew the red velvet away, letting it fall to the floor at her feet.

He reached for her hand, drawing her up to stand in front of him. “I love you, Izzie Natale. I love you, Crimson Rose. And I want you both in my life from this day on,” he said, his voice serious and unwavering. His expression was every bit as serious—as proud and determined as she’d ever seen him—as if he placed more value on this moment than he had on any other.

She certainly did. Because this could be the moment when her life changed forever. When, as silly as it sounded, all her secret dreams—the ones she hadn’t even acknowledged to herself—might actually start coming true.

“Whether we stay here, or go to New York, whether you work at the bakery or take off your clothes for a living...I’ll follow you. I’ll lead you. I’ll stand beside you.” He reached up and cupped her cheek, brushing his fingertips over her skin in a caress so tender it brought tears to her eyes.

“Be with me. Always.”

Now the teardrops gushed. Izzie seldom cried, but, at this moment, it was absolutely the only reaction she could manage. “I will, Nick. I love you so much. I’ve loved you for so long, I can’t remember what it felt like to not be in love with you.”

Reaching for him, she twined her arms around his neck and drew him toward her. She rose on tiptoe, touching her lips to his in a gentle kiss that gradually deepened. Their tongues sliding together in delicate intimacy, their bodies melted together. They shared breaths and promises not yet made but never to be broken, making a bond in that deep, unending, heady kiss that would last forever.

It was the most beautiful kiss of Izzie’s life. Because she was kissing a man she’d loved forever...and his amazing mouth had just given the same words to her.

When they finally paused, Nick smiled down at her. “Are you really going to wear my ring?”

She stuck out her hand. “Starting now. Lasting forever.”

Once he’d slid it on, she stared at the beautiful, glittering stone and gasped at the beauty of it. “Oh, thank you for waiting for me,” she whispered to him.

“Thanks for pulling me on top of you on that table of cookies to let me know how much you wanted me.”

Izzie glared at her new fiancé. “I did not pull you on top of me.”

“I’d have to say you pulled, Cookie.”

Reaching for the sash to her bathrobe and slowly unfastening it, she smiled a wicked, sultry smile. “Nick? You want to see what’s beneath this robe?”

His eyes glittered in hunger and need. “Oh, you know I do.”

He reached for her, but Izzie put her hand over his, stopping him. “Then I have one piece of advice for you. Don’t call me Cookie.”