Love Story (14 page)

“Can you do it, Cat?” Elizabeita asked.

“Damn, I can’t. I’m headed to Washington tomorrow for talks with President McMann. Honey, it’s impossible to cancel because they need my linguistic expertise in a matter of national security.” Caterina was thoughtful. “We could
get another agent to camp out in your house until this is over. A female.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Nick said firmly. “I can stay with her.”

Elizabeita sighed. She had a baby to think of. Not only her own safety. And the father of that child was perfectly capable of protecting her. In truth, she wanted him to be the one. “No, it’s all right. Nick can do it. I have an extra bedroom.”

Because the newest email indicated a specific threat to the Met itself, Homeland Security was called in that day. Each morning, dogs would be brought in to sniff for bombs. And there was talk about closing the contemporary art section of the museum. Delores Martin and Ellen Pratt hadn’t gotten the same email, so it was determined that only Elizabeita was targeted. Nick still
hadn’t ruled out Ellen as a suspect

That night, he accompanied Elizabeita home. She fell asleep in the taxi and woke up—not at her house but at a beautiful old home in on the west side of the city. “Why are we here?”

“This is where I live.”

“You’re taking me to
your
house?”

“Not to stay. I have to talk to Mellie and Mom in person. And get some of my stuff.”

“Should I wait in
the cab?”

“No. I’m not letting you out of my sight.”

“Nick, I…” She stopped. Suddenly, she wanted to meet his family. Her baby’s sister and grandma.

His mother met them at the door. She was lovely, with dark hair like Nick’s, shot through with gray. He had her eyes. “Hello, dear. Come in.”

“Hello, Mrs. Casella.”

After they’d seated themselves in a large living room, decorated
in a modern motif, she squeezed Elizabeita’s hand. “Call me Irene. Make yourself comfortable. I’m sorry you’re in trouble.”

“Thank you.”

“Mellie isn’t home yet. She’s at a friend’s right now so we can decide how to handle this.” She turned to her son. “Nicky, I need to know at least some of what’s going on.”

Nicky. Elizabeita didn’t want to find that cute.

“I’ve been working undercover
at the Met, Mom.” He explained the situation. It made Elizabeita shiver to hear the whole thing so starkly recounted.

“Then do what you have to do. We can’t tell Mellie about this, though.”

“Absolutely not. We’re going to have dinner with her, and then I’ll tell I have to go out of town for my new job.”

The front door flew open. A little girl and an older woman came into the foyer
and appeared in the archway to the living room. “She’s back, safe and sound.”

“Thank you, Janice. Maybe Carrie can stay overnight tomorrow with us.”

“I’m sure she’ll want to. See you then.”

Mellie caught sight of her dad, and her whole face beamed. Elizabeita was mesmerized at the expression of love. She ran to him and hiked herself up in his arms as he stood. Held her tight. “Hi,
princess.”

Elizabeita’s throat closed up.

“You’re home early, Daddy.”

“I know.” He lowered her to the floor. “Melyssa Casella, this is my friend, Elizabeita.”

Mellie’s eyes widened. “Wow, I look like you.”

“You know you do.” This from Irene.

His daughter crossed to Elizabeita. “I wish my hair was as long as yours.”

Smiling, Elizabeita touched Mellie’s shoulder-length
locks. “You can grow it this long. I have six sisters and we all have hair like this.”

“I wish I had a sister.”

Elizabeita bit her tongue so she wouldn’t react to the statement. Would her baby be a sister for Mellie?

“Are you Daddy’s girlfriend? Because it’s okay if you are.”

“No, honey,” Nick interrupted. “She’s a colleague—that means I work with her. She and I are going on a
business trip.”

Mellie brightened. “Can I come?”

“No, it’s for work. But we’re going to have dinner with you before we leave.”

“’kay.” To Elizabeita, she said, “Wanna come upstairs and see my room?”

“Yes, I would. I love little girls’ rooms.” She stood and the child took her hand and led her out. On the stairs, Mellie asked, “What was your room like when you were little?”

“I shared it with two sisters…”

Nick got choked up as Elizabeita went with his daughter, afraid this scenario would never be repeated.

“She’s the one, isn’t she?”

“The one what, Mom?”

“That’s got you tied up in knots.”

“Yeah. But I’m afraid that ship has sailed.”

“I’m not so sure. Remember the old adage, it’s not over until it’s over. And from the way she looks at you, and
the way you watch her, I’d say it’s far from over.”

“She’s adorable,” Elizabeita commented as they parked Nick’s car in the underground space assigned to Magdalena. “Angie must have been blond.”

“Yeah. I go to type, I guess.” He reached over and took her hand. “I promise you I’ll handle this as well as you handled my family. Let’s get through these next few days and be
as kind as we can to each other. And I’ll stay in the guest room, for sure.”

“I’m scared, and grateful you’re here, Nick. I’ll do my best to make you being here palatable for us both.”

They went in through the garage entrance and took the elevator up to the fifth floor. Where they found someone at her door.

“Oh, Ms. Ludzecky.” He smiled at her, then frowned at Nick. “I was dropping
off this package.”

“Thanks, Eddie. I could have come down and gotten it.”

“I don’t mind. You call me if you need anything.”

When they got inside, Nick held out his hand. “Give me that.”

“Why?”

“Because it could be dangerous.” He angled his head to the door. “He always this solicitous?”

“Yeah. He was with Mags, too.”

Nick grunted, took out a pen knife that was on his
key chain and cut open the box. Lizzie hadn’t seen the address of the sender. Nick lifted the flaps. “Well, what do we have here?”

Leaning over, she got a peek at the contents. “Um, I’m not sure exactly.”

He put his big hand inside and lifted out satin and lace. Panties, bras and teddies. And one bustier.

His eyes met hers.

She lifted her chin. “I ordered it last week.”

“To
wear with me?”

“Maybe.”

His gaze lowered to the lingerie. Then he handed the underwear to her and inspected the box. “Just in case,” he said.

After he determined the package was innocuous, she sighed. “I’ll show you the guest room.”

“You don’t have to. Go change. I remember where it is from before.”

Elizabeita went to her room. She undressed slowly and got a yoga outfit out
of the drawer. After changing into it, she lay down on the bed for a minute.

And tried to digest what was happening. She loved seeing Nick in his element, loved his attention to Mellie, her adoration of her father, and his mother, Irene. But it hurt, too, to know those people, and Nick, wouldn’t be in her life soon.

It was pitch-black when she awoke. Her stomach pitched. She bolted to
the bathroom and threw up her entire meal. Her head was still hanging over the toilet when she felt hands pull back her hair. “It’s okay, baby, it’s okay. This has been a horrible day. I know you’re upset.”

Elizabeita didn’t respond. She was afraid he’d see the truth in her eyes.

“Ellen Pratt quit.” The news was delivered by Delores, who called Nick, Jay and Marianne into her office on Friday morning. “Since you three have been working with her, I thought you should know she’s moving to Florida to be with her sister.”

“That’s a surprise.” A big one, Nick thought.

Marianne frowned. “Too bad.”

Jay looked around. “Where’s Elizabeita?”

“She’s out on the floor. The old man she’s befriended came in today, and she’s spending some time with him. She said to meet her at the exhibit room in fifteen minutes.”

On the way out, Jay stopped at the crossroads of a hallway. “I’m gonna go find Elizabeita.”

“Why?” Nick asked, studying the kid.

“I’m not crazy about that old guy. With this email stuff and the vandalism, I don’t
know…I want to. It’s all right, isn’t it?”

“I’m not your boss, Jay.” But this does tell me something, Nick thought. “Do what you want.”

Nick went to the exhibit room early to get set up. So did Marianne.

“So,” he said surveying the space, “we’re almost done, aren’t we?”

“Yeah. Though I don’t particularly like Dali.”

“Same here. How long are you at the Met for, Marianne?”

“Our internships end at Christmas.”

“Have you enjoyed your time here?”

“Yeah, I wish I could work at this place. Maybe now that Ellen’s left, there’ll be promotions along the way and some entry-level position will open up.”

Alarm bells went off in Nick’s head. “That’d be great. While we wait, tell me about yourself.”

Within twenty minutes, Nick realized they’d missed a suspect.

“Did you enjoy talking to Mr. Kitowski?” Elizabeita asked Jay as they headed to the Dali/Picasso room.

“Yeah, but if you don’t mind my saying, he’s weird.”

“He is?”

“He likes you, Elizabeita.”

“I know. That makes him weird?”

Jay’s expression darkened. “It’s kind of skeevy.”

“You’re imagining things.”

“Maybe, but with what’s going on here, be careful.”

“I am, Jay. Thanks for caring.”

By the time they reached the exhibit room, Nick had finished with the platform for the big board that held the explanation of the retrospective and suggestions on how to tour it. He was staring out the window. His shirt stretched across his back, and he wore navy work pants today instead of his jeans. She thought about last night. He’d held her head when
she barfed, mopped up her face and stayed while she brushed her teeth. Then he took her to her bed…

“Stay with me,” she said, in a weakened state.

“Are you sure, honey?”

“Yes. I feel terrible.”

He slipped under the covers and held her during the night. He was already up and making breakfast when she awoke again. “You feeling better?”

“Yeah, sorry about puking. Like you said,
it was a big day.”

“That’s the second time in a few days you’ve thrown up.”

She’d stilled, worried she’d given something away. “Too many emotional things going down…”

“Hi, everyone.” She gestured to what they’d completed. “The space looks good.”

Nick gave her a fake frown. “Yeah, it’s great
now
. Until the paintings come.”

His teasing broke some of the tension.

By the end
of the day, the new gallery was ready for the exhibit. The paintings would arrive next week.

Jay smiled at the group. “Time for a break. Can I buy you coffee, Elizabeita?”

“I have a meeting. Next time, maybe.”

When Jay headed out, Nick turned to her. “I have to talk to Davidson before we leave for the weekend.”

She touched his arm. “I forgot to tell you something. I called the
Baden Street Center on Monday because I was out of town and couldn’t come in. It was the second week in a row I missed, so I told them I’d be there on Friday if they could notify the kids.”

“Are you sure you have to do this tonight?”

“Yeah. Sammy called me back to say the kids were delighted and would be there. He even volunteered to come in on his night off.”

“Who’s Sammy?” Hell,
another guy in her life?

“He works at the center. I think he was a troubled kid and likes to give back. He’s a cutie.”

“We’ll go over after we catch a bite to eat.” He nodded to her clothes. “They won’t know who you are in that outfit.” She wore a plain blue dress, with a multihued scarf as an accent.

She give him a big grin and he was glad to see it. “I have jeans, a shirt and sneakers
here. I can braid my hair or something.”

“They’ll recognize you then. I’ll come to your office when I’m done.”

Alarm bells went off in Nick’s head for a second time that day when he and Elizabeita walked into the Baden Street Center. Sammy, a thin man with a nose ring and several piercings in both ears, greeted her with a big hug.

And held on too long.

She drew
back—he took hold of her hands then—and said, “That’s a warm welcome.”

“We
missed
you.”

“I missed you, too.”

Nick moved in close to her. Something flashed in Sammy’s eyes before he doused it. “I’m a friend of Elizabeita’s. Nick Caseman.”

“Hi, Nick. Welcome.” He didn’t sound as if he meant it. “Let’s go inside.”

They entered a big room, Nick dragging the suitcase full of art
books behind him. The kids gave her high-fives, and a couple hugged her. One girl hung back. For some reason, Nick noted her dyed-blond hair, which she wore in a braid like Elizabeita’s. Nick also noticed that Sammy had not left. Then he remembered: the guy came in tonight just to see her.

The kids divided up. Some started to draw at a table while others took the books out of the case and
went to chairs by the windows to look at them. After she introduced Nick to the first group, they got to work. She walked around the table and gave pointers and a lot of compliments on their art. After fifteen minutes, she joined the others. “This is my friend Nick,” she told this group. “Nick, this is Jimmy, Susie, Marco and Tom. And Brandi.”

They said hello, some shy, some outgoing. Brandi
asked, “You like art, Mr. Caseman?”

“Um, I’m learning to. Ms. Ludzecky is an awesome teacher.”

Her gaze went to Elizabeita and stayed there. “Yeah, she is.”

Slides of landscapes filled a screen up front, but Nick could tell they weren’t presented realistically. “These are works of Monet,” Elizabeita told the kids. “They create an impression of what the painter saw, not a photographic
image. What do you like about them?”

The kids participated. A lot. He was surprised. It was fun to watch Elizabeita interact with them. But it was painful, too. He’d managed to keep his feelings at bay all day, but now, seeing her like this, he let the raw emotion come again. Damn it, he wanted a relationship with her. And more.