Glass Ceilings (15 page)

“Nick?”

“Yes,” I responded, now distracted by how close his car seat sat to the side of the car.

“He can't wait to bust on you.”

“I can handle Jase.” I wasn't worried about him. We always had an easy friendship. Angela explained, unlike his wife who held me as responsible for our separation as she did her cousin, Jase felt I was the victim. His gripe with me was simply that I broke the “bro” code by hiding my undercover assignment at The Dump. He didn't buy my excuse that I couldn't tell anyone, and felt he would have made a great partner in the shakedown. I had my own gripe with Jase, although rationally I couldn't blame him for being so close to my son. Angela reluctantly shared Jase's role in my son's life. Jealousy consumed me as she recounted games they played together or places they'd been.

“Bye bye,” Nicholas said as Angela kissed his nose.

“Yep, ready to go see Aunt Eve and Uncle Jah?”

“Jah,” he repeated, kicking his feet excitedly.

She straightened until we came face-to-face. “Maybe I should have kept it a secret we were going to see Jase. This could be a long car ride because of it.” When she saw my frown, she asked, “You okay?”

“This car isn't safe.”

She glanced behind her at my sleek sports car. “He's buckled and perfectly safe. It's not far, just drive carefully.”

Just a few days earlier, my life had been all about me. Every decision I'd made either directly affected my life or my job. And now I had to worry about everything from the car I drove to the details of Ronnie's murder, and they all hit without warning like a tornado coming out of nowhere…blue skies one minute, running for cover the next.

I didn't know what the fuck was happening to me. I'd been fine earlier today, yet with every hour that passed I felt the stress of the situation settle over me more and more.

Without any warning, worrying suddenly became a part of my life, when in my thirty-one years it never had appeared before.

Personally, I had no idea how to handle worrying.

“There's no need to freak out.” She tried to calm my nerves, but failed.

That's an understatement,
I thought. Besides worrying, freaking out was another thing I was unfamiliar with.

When I refused to make eye contact, she gently gripped my chin and turned my head until our eyes met. “He's fine.”

“I've never driven a kid before, much less my kid, Angela.”

“Nick, he's fine.” She smiled warmly, her green eyes the most vivid I'd seen since Chicago. After a quick kiss on my cheek, she said, “Welcome to parenthood.”

How could she be so calm?

No sooner did we pull away from the curb than my cellphone rang with Stacie's name appearing on my dashboard. I could feel Angela cut her eyes toward me as I internally cringed.

“You can answer it.”

“I'll call her later.”

I had a lot to tell Stacie when she arrived in a few days. Not having spoken to her, she had no idea what was coming. I didn't have the energy to pretend everything between us was normal over the phone with my—fuck, I didn't even know what to label Angela—sitting right beside me to witness the whole thing.

I owed Stacie a face-to-face conversation. I cared about her, more than I ever admitted to myself. The more time I spent with Angela, the more I realized how much she reminded me of Stacie. Obviously, I'm attracted to a certain personality type, even though their physical appearances were very different. In fact, most of the women I saw these past two years were blondes. It suddenly occurred to me I might have intentionally avoided anyone who looked similar to Angela.

The last thing I wanted to do was hurt Stacie. I knew she'd understand the circumstance, and I knew she'd be very happy for me. I just hoped I was doing the right thing, for everyone involved.

Angela became very quiet on our ride over to Eve and Jase's place. The only noise in the car came from Nicholas as he babbled animatedly while pointing to everything he saw…and the sound of my conscience reminding me to take one day at a time.

Nicholas missed his normal afternoon naptime and instead fell asleep just as I parked the car after the ride over to Eve and Jase's apartment. When I lifted him from his car seat he stirred slightly until I settled him against my chest. His arms immediately circled my neck, and sweet warm breath puffed against my face. With his head resting on my shoulder a feeling of fierce protectiveness completely overwhelmed me.

Angela stood waiting for me to place him in his stroller so he'd continue with his nap. Selfishly, I shook my head not wanting to let him go. Her face looked as contented as I felt at that moment, and never had I felt such contentment in my life. Having him in my arms was like a magic elixir to all my angst. I found that no matter how preoccupied I was with my thoughts, just holding him made me feel so much better.

Part of me should've been confused by the amount of love I felt toward him in such a short amount of time. I should've questioned how a grown man like me could fall so quickly and completely…yet, I didn't. The way my chest constricted when I left him and how it swelled when I saw him should've freaked me out…but it didn't. The only thing that did was the thought of something or someone harming him in any way.

“He's going to be a bear later tonight,” she said as we made the short walk from the parking garage to the Central Park West building where we were headed. My place was blocks away, which meant that if Angela and Nicholas moved in with me, Eve would be much closer to Angela.

When we'd run errands earlier down by Angela's apartment, Nicholas had spent most of the day either walking beside me while holding my hand, or in my arms. “He's too heavy for me to be carrying around like that,” she scolded. “You're spoiling him.”

“I have a year to make up for.” She looked down, making me regret the words that slipped out of my mouth. “I'm sorry,” I said, reaching for her arm to stop her pace.

“You don't have to apologize. You're right.” Our gazes locked and the familiar urge to kiss her took hold. I lowered my eyes to her lips, seriously debating whether I should or not. I needed to find a way to either ignore these urges or give in.

Her head moved from side to side, her eyes looking away as she did.

“What?”

“You can't look at me like that. I can't handle it.” She reached for my hand, placing it over her heart. “Feel that?” Beneath my touch it pounded beat for beat with my own. She removed our hands, her eyes pleading for something but I didn't know what it was. “When you look at me like that, it makes me hope, and I don't want to hope for something that might be hopeless.”

“Hope is all I have to hold on to, Angela.”

“You're not helping.” She looked up at the sky deep in thought. When she met my gaze her eyes shimmered. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“Do you love her?” she asked so quietly, yet the New York street noise surrounding us did little to stop me from hearing her question, or the hurt in her voice. The pounding I felt in my chest halted from her question.

“Angela,” I began, but she stopped me with a raised hand.

“Do you? It's a yes or no answer, because if you do, I can't allow you to end things with her. I'd never forgive myself, and I have enough on my plate to feel guilty about. So, please just tell me now before I allow myself to feel even the tiniest bit of optimism.”

Her eyes focused on mine, waiting while I drew in a much needed breath. A tiny leaf drifted off a nearby tree and landed in her chestnut hair. Without thought, I reached over, her eyes following my hand as I removed the leaf and released it into the cool breeze.

“Do you?” This time her question was barely a whisper, a mere pained wisp of air floating from her mouth.

“I care about her a lot…but I don't love her.”

It was easy to admit that out loud, especially to her. Honesty was becoming the only way to whittle through the doubts I had. The connection between us had never been an issue. It was obvious in the way we couldn't keep our eyes off each other, in the way my fingers twitched from wanting to be buried in her hair, or in the way my lips itched to taste hers. The way I felt for her wasn't the issue, and if things had been different she'd probably have my ring on her finger by now.

So what the fuck was my issue? Because standing there, staring at her gorgeous face, I couldn't for the life of me remember.

“So I
can
hope then.” It was more a statement than a question. My eyes gave her the answer she so desperately needed. Without words, I communicated that she could hope—although truth be told, I was hoping enough for both of us.

“Come. Eve will flip out if we're late.” She smiled warmly, and led me to an awning a few feet away. A portly doorman grinned upon seeing her. “My day is made,” he said, placing both hands over his heart and staring up at the sky as if heaven descended upon him. “I was just ending my shift, but it was as if I knew that by staying a few more minutes I'd be gifted with your beauty.”

“You're such a charmer, John,” she responded with a wide smile. “Does your wife know you're a flirt?”

“Of course. How's my pretty lady, and how's my little chap?” He stretched his neck, frowning when he saw an empty stroller. “You're missing someone.” A warm smile spread over his chubby face when he noticed Nicholas sleeping fitfully in my arms.

“John, this is Nick.”

“Any friend of Miss Angela is a friend of mine.” The man offered a hand, which I shook without hesitation. “They're expecting you. I've missed the whippersnapper running amok down here. You'll have to come back when he isn't counting his sheep. I dug out my son's Lincoln Logs for the little tyke. They're waiting for him in my locker.”

“He'll love that.”

His bow tie along with the funny round hat that sat on his round head made the man look like a character from a 1950s movie. He opened the door, waved his chubby arm, and granted us access with a bow, clearly taking much pride in his job.

Once inside, it was hard not to stand and gawk at our surroundings. I stood dumbstruck at what looked like a feature article in an issue of
Architectural Digest,
and that was just the lobby.

I didn't impress easily.

I was impressed.

“Shit,” I mumbled while we stood waiting for the elevator.

“I know. Wait until you see their place.”

“Eve's store is doing well, I take it.”

She laughed and said, “Stores, as in three. Besides Chicago, she now has one in Vegas, and one on Madison Avenue here in New York…but it's not all Eve. Your friend Jase is a VP in his firm.” She grinned at the doubt written all over my face. “I swear. He came up with this ingenious advertising campaign, won a CLIO, and skyrocketed his firm into instant notoriety. You know the commercial where the nerd has all those hot girls around him, and the jocks are baffled?”

“Yeah, I've seen it. It's for some tutoring app, right?”

She nodded. “His.”

“Who knew his mad promotion skills at The Dump would actually lead to something? Well, good for Jase.”

Nicholas stirred in my arms, lifting his head. “Jah?” he asked, his voice raspy from sleep. His green eyes widened in anticipation of what was to come.

“Yes, baby.” Angela acknowledged his question, rubbing his head as she did.

I tried to hide the hurt I felt over my son having such an obvious obsession with Jase, but Angela's eyes on mine saw right through my feigned indifference. “Jase was the only man in his life, Nick. Please don't let their closeness upset you.”

“I know, and I get it.” Looking down at my son, I secretly vowed I'd change that by becoming the strongest male influence in his life. Jase would have to settle for favorite uncle, because I was his dad.

Eve stood in the doorway of her apartment waiting for us. “What took you so long?” she asked without a greeting. “Dinner is almost ready, and you know how I get when I work my ass off only for it to end up being ruined.”

“Sorry, we lost track of time.”

Nicholas twisted in my arms at the sound of Eve's voice.

“Hi, hi, Nicholai,” she singsonged, taking him from my arms without asking. Possessiveness almost had me holding him tighter, and not letting him go.

“Jah?”

“I'm here.” Jase appeared behind his wife. He took my son from Eve's arms.

Doesn't anyone ask to hold him around here?

Jase's eyes landed on mine, heat blazing in their blue depths. “Nick Smith, how the fuck are you?” The smirk on his face and his use of my fake name brought out the ball-busting ass I knew back in Chicago.

“Hey, language!” Angela smacked his arm. “He just forgot the last word you accidentally taught him.”

“Sorry. How the duck are you?” he revised with a shrug.

“I'm good,” I responded noncommittally.

“Jah!” Nicholas latched onto his nose.

“You give it back this time, little man. I couldn't breathe when you took it last time,” he teased, his voice nasal due to the grip my son had on it. Nicholas released his hold when Jase starting tickling him. My son squirmed, giggled, and stopped in his tracks making a funny face. A few seconds later, Jase scrunched his nose in disgust. “Whoa, buddy. You stink.”

“I got it,” Angela said, taking the baby and disappearing into the apartment, leaving the three of us awkwardly staring at one another.

“I'll go help her.” Eve kissed Jase passionately, and left the two of us still standing in their grand foyer. Jase's eyes remained trained on me like he suspected I'd grab his expensive artwork and run.

Jase and I had hit it off immediately in Chicago, and I had found him amusing, something real in the façade I was forced to inhabit. It was hard to connect that goofy jackass of a ladies' man with the professional who stood before me. Just like his wife, he looked the same yet different. A button-down shirt and slacks replaced the graphic T-shirt and jeans that he'd once favored. His hair was perfectly styled, unlike the mess that he used to sport on his head. The expensive watch on his wrist looked like it could launch nuclear missiles.

“I forgive you,” he said after a long uncomfortable pause.

“Oh thank God. Now I can sleep tonight.” In spite of the sarcasm that dripped from my words, he laughed at me.

He grabbed me in a massive hug. “God, I missed you, you fucking prick. Why didn't you call me?” Once he released me, he playfully punched me in the gut.

“I don't know. I think I just wanted to forget Chicago and everyone in it. I guess we were both victims of the stories that Angela was forced to tell.”

“Yeah, I guess.” I followed him farther into the apartment, which stretched out in all directions, into a large living room. He pointed to the couch while walking over to a liquor cart. “Scotch?”

“Sure,” I said, taking a seat that faced a view of Central Park.

“Still playing darts?”

“I haven't played in almost two years,” I admitted. The look he threw my way said he understood why.

“You do forgive her, don't you?” Just like I wasn't about to tell his wife what I was feeling, there was no way I'd confide in Jase, either.

He offered a small crystal glass full of amber liquid, and I immediately took a sip. The scotch burned perfectly with each taste. He sat adjacent to me, sipping his own drink while waiting a few more seconds for me to respond. At my silence, he said, “You need to, Nick. That girl loves you. She's loved you from the moment you kissed her in The Dump. The only person she may love more is that little dude getting his diaper changed who looks just like you.”

He assumed by my lack of a response that I was admitting I couldn't forgive her, when what it really meant was I couldn't understand why I had so quickly.

I looked past his shoulder as Angela and Nicholas walked into the large living room.

“Dada. Jah,” Nicholas said when he saw us. Angela placed him on the floor and he crawled our way. It was still his gait of choice when he needed to get somewhere quickly. Jase and I both moved to pick him up at the same time.

“I got him,” I said unapologetically, bending to lift Nicholas in my arms.

Jase must have detected the tone in my voice when he responded, “He's all yours, buddy. I was just holding your place until you got here.”