Not a word was exchanged between us as Henry drove through heavy traffic to Back Bay. The tension was so unbearably thick, I didn’t realize until we pulled up to his building that I’d curled my fingernails deep into my thighs. My stomach was in knots, hating that he was angry at me, hating that I hated that he was angry at me. Why did it feel like I’d betrayed him?
I shouldn’t care like this.
Ever the gentleman, he parked his car, got out, and walked around to the passenger side to open my door and help me out. Like at the restaurant, he held tight to my hand as he walked toward the apartment building on Columbus Avenue. Inside the grand marble entrance hall, Henry first nodded at a very tall security guard and then said hello to a well-dressed gentleman behind reception. “Mr. Lexington,” the man nodded.
Henry led me into one of two elevators in the hall and I watched, somewhat taken aback, when he didn’t hit the penthouse button.
He felt my stare, his eyes asking a belligerent “What?”
“You don’t live in the penthouse?”
“Disappointed?” Acid dripped from the word and I hated it.
I wanted to kiss the attitude right out of him.
“Surprised.”
“The penthouse is more Caine’s taste. I don’t need all that space.”
As I discovered when Henry led me inside a modest but beautifully turned-out one-bedroom apartment with a view over Statler Park. “Nice space.”
Right in the heart of Back Bay.
This place must be costing the man a fortune.
“I don’t want to talk about my apartment.”
On that note, I spun around to find him staring at me, wary, it seemed. I’d prefer a glower over wary.
“How did you know where to find me?” It occurred to me that there was a possibility I was already being stalked by one man. I didn’t need another in my life.
“My mother.” His anger leaked out in his words, despite his careful expression. “She found out I flew home early from my business trip, guessed why, and couldn’t wait to inform me that you were seen on a date the other night. I went to the station today to find out what was going on and Barbara told me you were on another date.”
“And she told you where to find me?” The traitor.
“I may have threatened bodily harm.”
“Henry!”
“Christ, Nadia!” His control snapped as he came toward me. “What the fuck are you playing at?”
“Is your mother having me followed?” The idea filled me with horror. What if she did a little digging? Would she find out what I didn’t want Henry to know?
“I don’t want to talk about my mother and how fucking crazy she’s acting. I want to talk about you and how fucking crazy you’re acting.”
“Stop cursing at me!”
His hands came up and he clenched them into fists, as though he were trying to stop himself from wrapping them around my neck. “Nadia, stop avoiding the question.”
“Your mother hates me. That’s a huge problem.”
“Nadia… I won’t. Say. It. Again.”
“Don’t threaten me!” I pushed against his chest, and he didn’t budge. “You’re the one in the wrong here! Pushing me around! Interrupting dates!”
He gripped my biceps, yanking me into him. “We had an understanding when I left. I’m not the one in the wrong here, Nadia. Why the fuck!” He stopped, took a breath, and his voice lowered, calmed, “Why can’t you trust me?”
At the hurt, the vulnerability I heard behind those words, I sagged against him. “Henry, I don’t do trust very well. And you didn’t call or text so…”
His hands tightened around me as he searched my face. “So what? I was on a business trip. I told you that. I was under the impression you understood and that when I got back, I’d call.”
I nodded, feeling foolish. Not for going out on other dates but for wishing he would have wanted to call or text me despite being on a business trip. I tried to pull away but he held me tighter. I looked anywhere but at him and he ducked his head to look into my eyes.
“I wanted to call,” he said, his words low, gentle. “But I thought you needed some space after what happened. If I knew you would go out with the first guy your friends could set you up with, I would have called.”
“Henry…” I tried to withdraw again but his hands slipped down my back, forcing my body against his. I flushed at the feel of his arousal digging into my stomach.
His voice was hoarse. “Do you think I’d put up with this much drama from anyone else?”
I glared at him. “You cause the drama.”
He grinned at my flare of temper. “Really?”
“This is too much.” I pushed ineffectually against his chest, looking up into his too-handsome face. God, I loved his face.
“Why do you keep fighting me?” he whispered against my lips. “Can’t you see how much I care about you?”
I sucked in a breath at the words, my heart racing at the sincerity behind them. “Henry.”
If anything he grew harder against me. “You have no idea what my name on your lips does to me.”
“I think I do,” I whispered back.
But he didn’t smile. Instead his expression turned pleading. “Why?”
I knew what he was asking. What he’d been asking all along since he’d crashed my date. And I knew if I didn’t tell him, he’d walk away. Despite all my insecurities, being in his arms now seemed to obliterate them all.
My fingers curled around the lapels of his wool blazer. He had shown me his vulnerability. He’d dropped his veneer of charm to give me something real.
I believed he deserved real in return.
“My dad is a cheat,” I said, my eyes dropping to Henry’s strong throat. “My mom knows and she… stays with him. And it’s not like he’s in love with two women and can’t pick. He just screws anything that has a vagina. I didn’t know until high school and parents knew and suddenly kids knew and then I knew. I even caught him once.” I swallowed back the remembered misery of that time. “My mom suffered through the humiliation and she made me suffer through it with her by staying with him.”
“Sunshine,” he whispered, caressing my back. “I’m sorry.”
I finally made eye contact with him and found myself falling into his concern and tenderness. He cared.
He really did care.
I pressed closer, wanting to bury myself inside his arms forever. “I wish it hadn’t affected me, but it did. And having a boss like Dick, and being treated like a sex object by men like Montgomery Mitchell, it only made it harder for me to trust men. And the way you treated me…”
His fingers bit into my waist, almost bruising. “If I could take—”
“No.” I cut him off. “I’m not dredging that up to make you feel bad… I’m trying to explain why I haven’t exactly made this easy for you. Because… it isn’t easy for me, Henry.” I curled my hands around his neck. “I care about you too. I want to trust you.”
Wrapping his arms around me, he bent his forehead to mine, his breath caressing my lips. “Then try.”
I nodded. “I will. I promise.”
“Now let’s take a look at the weather forecast. Nadia, what is in store for us?”
I took my cue from Barbara, spotting the camera with the red light and throwing the audience a beaming smile. “Well, Barbara, you and the rest of Boston will be relieved to know that the sun is sticking around this week, right through Saturday. We’re looking at clear skies for game day at Fenway. Even better, while temperatures soar
today and tomorrow to ninety-five, the Red Sox can rest easy that they won’t be melting on the field on Saturday, as the temperature falls to a milder eighty degrees over the weekend.”
“That’s good to know. I don’t want my makeup running off while I’m in the stands.” Barbara threw the camera a flirtatious smile. “You never know who you might meet at a game.”
“Games are sacred, Barbara,” Andrew said and gave her a droll look. “They’re not a live version of Tinder.”
“Why, Andrew, I’m surprised you even know what Tinder is. Relics don’t usually take to new technology.”
I tried not to laugh, even though I wasn’t on camera, because my mic was still live.
Andrew gave the camera a weary look and I saw the crew laughing. And then he turned to me and I was back on camera. “Will you be at the game, Nadia?”
“Of course,” I lied. The city of Boston didn’t want to know I wasn’t a hardcore Red Sox fan. I wasn’t a baseball fan at all. Henry was but he thankfully wasn’t into forcing someone to a game just to keep him company. Plus, Caine had a box at EMC Level and Henry always went to games with him. That meant I got to enjoy my first weekend on my own in a while. I couldn’t wait. I had a pile of movies and a bottle of wine waiting for me.
We finished up our program for the day and when I got back to my desk, flowers waited for me. Peonies. A few weeks after Henry and I started dating and were photographed together in the society pages, the text messages stopped and so did the calla lilies. He finally got the message.
But he’d ruined calla lilies for me. When Henry asked me what my favorite flowers were, I told him peonies.
Henry sent them every week.
* * *
“Did you get my flowers?” Henry caressed his thumb over the top of my knuckles.
We were seated at the Bristol Lounge for lunch as was our weekly tradition. It had become apparent in the last few months that Henry was incredibly affectionate. No matter where we were, there was hardly a moment he wasn’t touching me. I didn’t even think he was aware of it half the time. For instance, we’d sat at the table, me adjacent to him, and I’d fiddled with a fork, my mind on work. Henry had automatically reached for my hand and hadn’t let go of it while we waited for our food.