She huffs out some air, but doesn’t respond.
“My fucking brother called and—” And I stop. Fuck that conversation. And fuck this one too.
“And what?” Nadia asks, turning her body towards me.
“Forget it. Not important.”
We drive the rest of the way over to the furniture store in silence and by the time we get there, we’re almost thirty minutes late for our appointment with my interior designer, Anna, and I’m not even remotely interested in shopping for furniture.
I pull the car up to the front door, see Anna waiting behind the glass, and look at Nadia.
“What are you doing?” she asks.
“I’m gonna drop you off with Anna, the designer. Just tell what you like and she’ll—”
“Fuck you!” Nadia says. “Just fuck you. I’m not the one who needs a new house. I’m not the one who made this appointment. I’m not the one,” she stresses, “who even wants to be here right now. I’d rather be home, sleeping, or watching movies, or what the fuck ever.”
My head snaps back in surprise at her outrage.
“You’re going inside, Elias Bricman. Or you’re taking me home right now. And where the fuck is Jordan?”
“He’ll be here,” I say, regaining my voice. “I talked to him earlier and he said he’ll be here.”
Nadia glares at me and I just don’t know why this day went from ordinary to shit so suddenly. “Park. The fucking. Car,” she says, clipping her words.
I pull away from the curb and ease the car into a parking space near the front of the lot.
Nadia opens her door, letting in a rush of frigid air, then slams it closed.
I sit there for a second, but she knocks on the window and points to me, practically ordering me to get the fuck out.
I turn off the engine and get out. Goddamn, it’s fucking cold.
When I walk around the car and join her, she slips her hand in my arm like nothing happened. Ready to go furniture-shopping.
“Don’t,” I say in a low voice as we head towards the glass doors of the furniture store, “ever fucking talk to me like that again.”
“Then don’t keep me waiting,” she says sweetly. “And don’t act like I’m your personal piece of property you can order around. Because I’m not.”
I open the door for her and she walks in. Anna is there to greet us and Nadia smiles and talks politely to her as she introduces herself. Pretending that conversation never happened.
What a fucking day.
We spend the next hour looking at furniture and telling Anna what kind of style we want for the house. It’s a classic Tudor mansion, so we stick to classic traditional furniture. Not my style at all, and from what I can tell, not Nadia’s style either.
This is not going well. And just as I’m cursing Jordan for leaving me to deal with all this Nadia shit alone, he walks up to us in the bedroom section.
“Hey,” he says, walking over to Nadia and me. He leans in and kisses her, pulling her close as he holds her face in both hands. They linger for a second. Which allows me an opportunity to glance at Anna.
She’s smiling and passive. I’ve never shopped with my players before, but her husband is a Club member, so she knows what’s going on here.
“About fucking time,” I say, thoroughly irritated again as I glance down at my watch. “You’re only two hours late.” And Nadia doesn’t berate him for his tardiness, I note. She just wraps her arm around his and smiles.
“We’ve picked everything out,” Nadia says. “Except the bedroom furniture.”
“I guess I got here for the only room that counts,” Jordan jokes. And then he sits down on the bed we’re looking at—a dark gray low-profile platform with chesterfield tufting on the headboard. It’s not very traditional and it’s expensive as hell. But Jordan missed all that earlier talk about design and so he lies back and says, “Come here, Nadia. Try it out with me.”
She obliges without comment. She even smiles and tucks her body up next to his.
“What do you think, Bric?” Jordan says. “This good enough for you? Hell, let’s get the whole fucking bedroom set. Why not?” He laughs. “Bric’s buying. Say yes and we can get the hell out of here.”
“Sure,” I say, liking the whole getting the hell out of here part. “You got everything you need, Anna?”
Anna looks down at her clipboard and smiles. “I got it, Bric. Do you want it delivered tomorrow? We have everything in stock.”
“How about Friday?” I say. “We close Friday morning at nine. So, noonish?”
“Yes,” Jordan says, feeling Nadia up. Nadia is giggling and her hands are wandering just like his. “Friday night we’ll break this baby in.” And then he sits up, helps Nadia sit up too, and stands, holding her hand as she climbs out of the bed. “I gotta go,” he says, leaning in to kiss her again before she can protest. It’s passionate and long. Long enough for Anna and I to look at each other. I’m annoyed, but she’s blushing.
I have to control my eye-roll.
“But you just got here,” Nadia says, more than a hint of disappointment in her voice when she pulls out of the kiss.
“I know,” Jordan says, looking intently into her eyes. “But this case, Nadia. I have to be in court early tomorrow for jury selection. And this guy, man. He’s a big problem. Got arrested while he was out on bail just before trial. It’s a fucking mess. But it’ll be over soon. Two weeks, tops. Then I’m all yours.” He glances at me when he says that. “I’ll make it up to you guys when it’s over. OK?”
I shrug. I’m ready to go, so what the fuck do I care?
There’s another kiss and then Jordan disappears throughout the rows of furniture.
We finish up the details with Anna and then Nadia and I walk out of the store together.
“Well,” she says, once we’re back in the freezing cold car. I can see her breath as she sighs that word out. “Furniture-shopping went better than I expected.”
“Did it?” I ask, blaring the heater as I back out of the parking spot. “You looked like you’d rather be getting a root canal than shopping for furniture with me.”
“That’s because you’re a dick, Elias. You made me mad. And this was all your idea and you ruined it. It should’ve been fun and you’re the reason it wasn’t.”
“Oh.” I laugh. A nice, loud incredulous laugh. “But it’s OK for Jordan to be two hours late?”
Nadia looks out the window. “At least he was happy to see me.”
I drop her off at her building. I don’t even pretend like I’m going to walk her in and have my way with her upstairs. I’m not in the mood. “I’m busy tomorrow,” I say, just as she opens her door.
“Me too,” she replies. “So I guess I’ll see you whenever.”
“No,” I say, grabbing hold of her arm before she can escape. She looks at me. Pins her eyes right to mine. Challenging me over whatever the fuck we’re doing right now. “I’ll pick you up after work on Friday. Have your things packed. You’re moving into the house.”
She smiles. It’s fake, but it’s big. And says nothing. Just removes my hand from her arm and gets out of my car.
I pull away without another look.