Pivotal Point
NICOLE
In the end, we exchange numbers—I had his number, and I simply gave him mine—and I call it a night after trying and failing to recruit sponsors.
I unlock my small, rundown Chevrolet Spark and sit with my hands on the steering wheel for a handful of minutes. God, I never thought that accepting this invitation would end up with me seeing Roman after all these years.
One of our sponsors, Mrs. Katie Glennville—a woman who's since lost all her wealth yet managed to retain her connections—got me on the guest list for this gala. Otherwise, I'd never dream of making it to such an event. I almost didn't go because I didn't have the right kind of clothes. This little black dress I'm wearing belongs to Haley. It's not even mine.
Honestly, I don't know how I feel about this.
I press my key into the ignition, start the car, and head straight home. Despite the night being cool, I roll the windows down and enjoy the feel of the wind blowing through my hair. This calms me after my interaction with Roman.
God, I don't even want to think about him. Just the mere thought of accepting his offer makes me feel like such a shitty sister. If Mason finds out about this, he'll be genuinely upset. I know him. He doesn't take betrayal lightly.
I park the car outside his apartment building, which is where I've been living for the past three years, since Ma died. We decided to sell our family home so we could take the cash and do something meaningful with it. At that point, I was already done with college, and though I could've probably gone to grad school, I decided to reinvest the money back into the charity.
Newsflash: Nothing helped save it, and I lost all the money from the sale.
Mason, on the other hand, invested it in the accounting firm where he works, and he's been doing pretty well. Honestly, I feel like crap for invading his privacy the way I am. He should be enjoying his space with Haley, but I'm there, like a stone lodged in their shoes.
That's exactly why doing this thing with Roman feels so wrong—my brother's the one person in the world who supports me without fail. I can't betray him like this, and yes, accepting help from his ex-best friend would be a betrayal.
But we need the sponsorship, or our mother's work will be flushed down the drain along with all the efforts we ever put into it.
We help so many women with emotional and financial support. Can I really bear for it to end because I'm refusing a sponsorship that could save lives?
Sigh...decisions, decisions.
I lock the car as I head toward the entrance of the building, but I hear the sound of my name being called, and when I turn my head, I see Dan heading toward me.
"Not you again," I say, tired by the mere sight of him already. "Dan, we've talked about this. You've got to stop this!"
Dan's the first and only boyfriend I've ever had. We started dating during my second year in college, and we broke up six months ago because I couldn't stand how controlling he was.
And even now, after our relationship has come to an end, he's still doing the exact same stuff that made me break up with him in the first place.
"Dammit, Nicole, just listen to me," he pleads as he makes his way toward me. "Could you do that?"
"I've been listening to you this entire time and I'm not interested, Dan. Please. Stop pestering me all the time and accept that we're much happier apart."
"I'm not happier," he says, his pale blue eyes blinking without any emotion behind them whatsoever. Compared to Roman's eyes, they might as well be a brick wall.
Oh, why am I starting to make comparisons now? What's wrong with me?
"Well, I am. Does that count for anything?" I start toward the building. "Please, stop it. Don't make me call the cops on you."
"Nicole, I love you!"
I ignore him and head inside. I greet the porter warmly, and the middle-aged man says to me, "That guy's been there for hours. I think you should contact the authorities, Miss Monroe. I know his type, and they're dangerous."
"Thanks, Rocco, but I don't think that's necessary. He just has a really bad time getting over things. I'm sure it'll be alright. Thank you for your concern."
I don't want to have to call the cops on him. With a criminal record, life gets a hell of a lot harder, and I just want things between us to be peaceful. Maybe I'll come to regret this decision, but that's my stance on it.
I head upstairs and find Mason and Haley seated in front of the TV, hands clasped. Mason says to me, "Hey, sport. How was the gala?"
My mouth goes dry with the potential lie brewing behind my teeth. "Oh, it was fine, you know?"
Haley asks, "Did you find any sponsors?"
"Something like that," I answer as I start toward my room. "I'll tell you when there's something concrete, okay?"
"That's good news, right?" he calls after me.
Nope. Not in the way you expect.
I lock my bedroom door and throw myself on the bed in Haley's dress. Oh, God. This is the worst feeling in the world. I feel dirty with the lying that hasn't even happened yet.
Maybe I shouldn't accept Roman's offer.
I have to do right by my brother.
Just as this thought crosses my mind, I receive a text message. My phone vibrates in my purse. I reach for it and find that it's an unknown number. My heart warms up then drops because I already know who it is.
It was nice seeing you today, Nikki. You look amazing, and I should've mentioned that you looked delicious in that dress. R.
I gasp and cover my mouth like a schoolgirl. My face is incredibly hot, and I can't believe I'm reading this right. I keep waiting for him to send the follow-up text claiming that he's joking, but that doesn't happen.
Apart from our almost-kiss, we never flirted with each other. In fact, it was always more of a playful relationship, and I sensed that he respected me because I was his best friend's little sister.
What changed since then?
I can't say I'm not flattered. I shoot back a text, telling him words don't flatter me that way. It's a blatant lie.
Maybe I need to try harder, then. How about dinner tomorrow, my place? We can discuss that sponsorship and we can figure out how I can help you.
Heat coils low in my belly. God, this is a mistake. I feel it right away. I'm still dangerously attracted to this man, and if I go to dinner with him, at his place nonetheless, who knows what might happen?
This feels like that pivotal moment when my life could change forever. Maybe I'm exaggerating like I always do, but something about this feels...raw. Real. Concrete.
Though I'm contemplating not going, I already know what my answer will be.
I send the text, then shove the phone under my pillow and get ready for bed. I don't look at it again until morning—I don't want to spiral and not get any sleep. His reply is the location of his place and a time.
Can't wait to see you, Nikki.
I run a hand over my face and sigh.
This is not going to end well.