And then I inspect myself in the mirror, nerves attacking my belly. Tonight is big. Tonight I am in a world I’d dreamed of not just visiting, but embracing. And I’m there with Nick, who I’m suddenly eager to see. I fill my purse, and slip it over my shoulder before hurrying through the bedroom to the living area. I find Nick in a sharp black suit with a black tie.
His eyes light on me and he ends his call, the two of us walking toward each other, meeting at the back of the couch, a brown contemporary style that matches the two chairs framing it. Nick whistles as we grow near. My cheeks heat, while a smile touches my lips as I realize the dots in his tie are evergreen. I run my hand down it. “How did you know that I was going to pick this dress?”
“It matches your necklace perfectly.”
“You chose it.”
“I did.”
“When and how?”
“I sent the shopper photos of your necklace and she sent me back options.”
He just made the romantic surprise that was those dresses even more romantic and personal. “I love this dress.”
“It’s beautiful on you.”
There’s a knock at the door and he kisses me. “I’ll get it.”
“Who is it?”
“No idea,” he says, leaving me to find out.
Curious, wondering what Nick is up to because this has to be Nick being Nick, and doing something unexpected and wonderful. I inch up a few feet to try and see who is at the door. It opens and I hear, “I have a delivery for Ms. Winter.”
“From who?” Nick asks, wiping out the idea that that it’s from him with the question.
“I’m sorry, sir. I don’t know.”
Nick opens the door to allow the bellman to enter and he’s holding a giant bouquet of flowers and a box of some sort, but I think it’s Godiva chocolates. My stomach clenches with the certainty this is a problem. The bellman sets the delivery on the coffee table, gives me a nod, and a “Good day, ma’am” before departing.
Nick joins me, his expression indiscernible. “You should read the card.”
I wait until the door shuts behind the exiting bellman before responding. “It’s going to be from Bill. He’s laying it on thick now.”
Nick rounds the couch and pulls the card from the bouquet, holding it up, an invitation in the action. Dreading what is to come, I join him and take it, tearing it open. And then cringe with what I read:
Faith,
Congratulations, baby. You did it.
See you tonight, FINALLY.
Macom
I hand Nick the card. He takes it and reads it.
“I’m sorry,” I say.
He glances up at me. “For what? Godiva is good chocolate. Let’s try some.” He sits down and opens the box.
I blanch, confused by his reaction. He takes my hand and tugs, urging me to sit. “Chocolate, sweetheart. We missed lunch.”
I ease onto the cushion and he sinks his teeth into a piece of chocolate. “Did you know that I have a weakness for chocolate?” He holds a chocolate to my mouth. “Try this one.”
I take a bite. “Well?” he prods.
“It’s delicious,” I say, and it is but the chocolate is not my focus right now. “You’re not upset at all?”
He leans in and kisses me. “Sweetheart, if a box of chocolate and some flowers win you over, then you weren’t ever mine to start with. But you are mine. He just doesn’t know it yet.”
There is a promise that he will capture me in those words that makes me nervous, but he pops another piece of chocolate in his mouth, stands up and takes me with him. “Let’s go show off that dress and your art.” And then he kisses me again, and when his tongue touches mine, the heady taste of sin, satisfaction, and chocolate overwhelms my senses. He overwhelms my senses and I forget to worry about anything and everyone else, Macom included.
But when we reach the elevator and step on the car, me in front of Nick, him holding me from behind, I remember the phone call they’d shared and the obvious realization I’ve ignored hits me. I turn to face him. “He just issued you a challenge, didn’t he?”
Nick arches a brow. “Did he? Because you of all people know that I can’t turn away from a challenge. And that could be very bad for him.”
The elevator opens to the busy lobby and when I turn, I find myself facing the devil himself: Macom is standing with Josh a few feet away.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Faith
Seeing Macom again punches me in the chest, and a world of dark, jagged emotions slash a path through me. A moment later, Nick’s hand settles at my lower back, and all is right in my world, and not because I feel protected. Because he’s here. Because he’s Nick. That’s all my mind has time to process before we’re crossing to meet them, both men watching us approach, both in expensive suits. Josh in navy blue, his dark hair as perfectly trimmed as usual. Macom stands out in a tan suit among dark colors, his curly hair is a bit wild. The color choice expected, as is the disarray of his hair, I know that he believes to be sexy. He likes to be different, and I used to see that as artsy and unique. Today it reads as tasteless, as was him sending me those gifts, when I know Josh had to have told him I was with Nick. When both Nick and I had told him that I was with Nick.
Josh leans in to speak to Macom, clearly telling him to leave. Macom quite obviously snaps back at him, most likely throwing around his power. Macom won’t back down. Not here. This is his castle and he’s king. He thinks that makes Nick a peasant, but he’s wrong.
Nick and I arrive to stand in front of them, me directly in front of Macom. My gaze meets his, and the heat in Macom’s stare is awkward and so blatant, so “I want to fuck you again” that there is no way Nick doesn’t see it. I look to Josh, who smiles and winks. “Looking gorgeous, darling. We want people to know your work, but it doesn’t hurt for them to remember you’re as stunning as your work.”
“Thank you, Josh.”
“You’ve always been stunning, Faith,” Macom dares.
Nick looks at him. “Macom, right?”
“Yes,” he says. “Macom Maloy.”
Nick arches a brow. “I believe I’ve heard the name, outside of what Faith has shared in graphic detail, of course. Up and coming, aren’t you?”
“Up and coming?” Macom replies tightly. “Not many people call me up and coming.”
“Ah well, they will, I’m sure. Hang in there. You’ll be a Chris Merit in no time who is a big fan of Faith’s by the way.”
Macom’s lips tighten. “So I hear.”
“On another topic,” Nick continues. “I should say thank you. Aside from the fact that you lost Faith, which led her to me, I love chocolate. Faith and I ate that shit up.” He glances at me. “Didn’t we, sweetheart?”
Considering Macom looked at me like he wanted to lift my skirt, clearly baiting Nick, I don’t so much as miss a beat. I look from Nick to Macom. “Yes, thank you. The chocolate and the flowers were lovely. And it was unexpected considering our last communication.”