He was so pissed, he could taste it.
They had shit that needed settling between them, and it was happening now, this instant. As he walked through the apartment, it hit him immediately.
She'd left.
Cursing several saints, God, and his mother, Nick picked up his phone and tried Courtney's cell. She didn't answer.
Motherfucker.
He was completely dressed and had his keys in his hands not three minutes later. Trying his best not to panic or to be pissed at himself for pushing her too far and too fast, he went down to the parking garage and found that her car was missing from its usual space.
Cursing under his breath, he took a wild guess and drove to his mother's house. When he saw Courtney's little red Volvo sitting in the circular driveway, he couldn't contain the feeling of relief that bled through his system. Relief, blending with raw, territorial anger.
He walked inside on silent feet and found both his mother and Courtney in the living room. Courtney's back was to him, but his mother spied him and she gave him a smile that seemed to be trying to communicate something to him, but he didn't understand what it was. "Nick, sweetheart." She began patting the seat next to her on the sofa, which was across from the chair where Courtney sat. "Come join us."
"Sure," he tossed out, but walked to the sideboard first. He didn't really need a drink, didn't want one even, what he needed was a moment to survey the room and get a grip on his temper and a handle on Courtney's mood. Under the guise of mixing a drink, he was able to do that, at least enough to breath evenly. As he prepared a very weak bourbon and water, he asked, "Anybody want a drink?"
Both women declined, so he strolled to the sofa and kissed his mother on the cheek. "What's going on?" he asked as normally as possible, his gaze trailing over to Courtney, who turned ashen as he sat down. His lips flattened as his mood deflated another notch.
"Nothing much, darling," Justine answered. "Courtney's tired of running back and forth between here and the penthouse and she's trying to decide where to live," his mother told him with what seemed to be a forced nonchalance.
"Is she now?" Nick lifted a single eyebrow and stared across the coffee table at his intended target. Moving out of the penthouse? Oh, that shit was so not happening. From his position on the sofa, he could stare all he wanted at his wife, without his mother noticing, and he did so now. As he kept Courtney within his sights, he took a healthy drink, and then balanced the glass on his knee. "Obviously there's plenty of room for both of us at the penthouse."
"That's exactly what I told her," his mother replied. "And since she's working in the tower, why in the world would she want to drive way over here just to sleep at night?" After his mother said those words, she turned to Courtney. "Darling, you don't have to worry about me. I learned how to enjoy living on my own during your years at college. I've been doing it quite a while now. Of course, you can live here if you want, I'd love to have you, but don't you think it would be inconvenient to have to make the drive twice a day?"
As Nick listened to his mother's spiel and waited for Courtney to respond, it occurred to him that he'd been right in his previous assessment a few months back. His mother knew about them. Obviously, she didn't know about their marriage, but she knew there was something going on between the two of them. And because she was trying to talk Courtney into staying at the penthouse, Nick also could see that his mother approved. So for that reason, he'd forgive her for her machinations. Poor Damian, he'd been caught in the middle of all of this. His mother's ploy had been only that, a ploy designed to make Nick jealous. But now he had to wonder, was Courtney finally getting it too? She had to realize that his mother was actually trying to push the two of them together, and not Damian and Courtney, as she'd pretended before that damn party several months ago.
That was certainly going to work in his favor tonight.
Watching Courtney now, sitting demurely in her seat trying her damn best not to meet his eyes, Nick felt his aggression rise. But being the considerate husband that he was, he decided to spare her any more grief in front of his mother. Besides, he'd had enough; he needed to get her alone.
Setting his drink on the glass-topped coffee table, he stood to his feet. Not caring what his mother would think, in fact knowing she would only approve his move, he walked to Courtney and snagged her hand, pulling her from her seat. "Let's go take a look at your bedroom and see if the idea of you living here is even feasible. You need a workstation now, and a bigger closet." His mother's home was so massive that he knew his words were ludicrous, but he didn't really give a shit, they were only an excuse, and with that, he pulled Courtney from the room and dragged her all the way up the stairs and into the bedroom she'd always used.