The Meeting
NICOLE
I get dressed and ready for the day ahead, which mostly includes sitting around in the charity's headquarters—a small office we rent in a commercial building downtown—and doing nothing but hoping that money will come in from sponsors and spontaneous donations while organizing events, sending newsletters, and trying to keep busy.
It would've been the easiest job in the world if it weren't for the significant amount of hoping involved. That's the part that makes it so hard, and eventually, it takes a toll on your mental health.
But anyway, that's the life I chose. I graduated with flying colors in college—business administration is what I studied—but I never got to use my degree because of the charity.
I work for Wings of Grace permanently. If I abandon it, it'll go downhill, and I can't bear the thought of that at all.
"Morning," I chirp as I take my seat at the dining table. Mason and Haley are already up.
Mason gives me a look over his cup of coffee. "You look a little too happy. Doesn't she, Hales?"
"I think the gala went better than she expected," Haley jokes as she narrows her dark, almond-shaped eyes at me. She's gorgeous. Her skin is tan, and her hair is dark and curly. Her father is middle-eastern and her mother had Irish roots. "Why don't you tell us the truth about what truly happened?"
"Nothing happened," I reply as I clear my throat. I almost choke on my coffee when I try to drink it too quickly to disguise my awkwardness. "People told me they'd get back to me, and that's what's happening. I feel positive, though. Can't I feel that way?"
Mason puts his cup down on his saucer. "That's not the problem here."
"Oh, there's a problem?"
"I think all this charity shit's consuming you, Nicole. I know Ma worked for it and she fucking loved doing what she did, but you've got to accept that it's taking too much from you. Ma had the time—she was sick and off work. You've got your whole life ahead of you, and now's the time for you to think about career prospects. You've got to build a career, sport. None of that non-profit shit."
I ignore him as I spread butter onto my toast. I like it nice and crispy. "If you want me out of your apartment, just say that, alright?"
He breathes in deeply, and it pleases me that I've managed to get under his skin. Now we're even. "Stop being an asshole, Nic."
I take a huge bite out of my toast. "Take away the roof over my head and I might just venture toward a job that actually pays. I mean it, Mason."
"I might just do that, then," he rages, his face growing all red. Haley laughs at us behind her cup.
"Can't wait," I said, draining my cup of coffee and taking more bites of my buttered toast.
He grumbles something under his breath and Haley and I exchange a look. On a serious note, I'm extremely grateful for his help, and I do my best to help around just to repay the favor.
But I wished he cared more about the charity. That would be ideal.
I think of asking him about Roman, and the thought sticks to my head for so long that I end up doing it. Who knows? Maybe I'll get some answers from him today. I've been seven years, after all. How long can one hold a grudge?
"Hey, Mason. You never told me what went down between you and Roman."
My brother gives me a look. "Not again, Nicole."
"I saw his face on a magazine last night at the gala, and it got me thinking again." I'm such a damn, shameless, bare-faced liar. "I mean, you have to admit that it was truly random. What did he do that was so bad that you won't even bring up his name? Haley, do you know?"
"Leave her out of this," Mason says angrily before standing up. "You know, you can really ruin my day, Nicole."
I'm shocked by his anger. "What? It's just a question."
Mason grumbles something under his breath as he shrugs on his blazer, and it sounds a lot like fuck off. He didn't even finish his breakfast and he's already heading out the door. "Haley, love you, babe. See you later."
"Love you," she replies.
I turn around in my seat and call his name. "Mason!"
He gives me a look before closing the door. With a scoff, I face Haley again. She tips her head back, finishes her coffee, then says, "Don't look at me. You two get your shit together."
"But is he rational? Does his behavior make sense?"
She doesn't answer me.
God, the lack of answers frustrates me.
I wash the dishes, then head out. I drive all the way downtown and mentally prepare myself for the work ahead, which happens to be nothing at all. The event I mentioned to Roman is in two weeks, and we still haven't received the donations we need to get it together. Dammit, this is so frustrating.
I'll see where my conversation with Roman tonight will lead me.
Honestly, I'm breathless with anticipation, and I'm scared. My feelings for him have been reawakened, in a sense, and I can't stop thinking about last night. Paired with the memory of the (once again) almost-kiss, I'm practically losing my mind, here.
The day goes by unexpectedly quickly, and then it's time for me to close up, get dressed, and drive to Roman's place. I give Mason and Haley an excuse, telling them I'm going out with my friend Esmeralda, and they buy it easily.
It makes me feel so bad for lying to them.
I opt for my sexiest dress—it's red, tight-fitting, and backless, and makes me feel like I'm actually worth a dime when I'm not. I style my blonde hair in loose curls, and line my blue eyes with black liner to make them stand out. Not too much, though, just enough to give me the air of someone mysterious with intense eyes.
Am I that way, though? How does Roman see me now? I used to have braces to fix my gap tooth, and my hair was a lot wilder and bushier because I didn't know how to take care of it. My skin was textured and pimply. I was underweight.
Now, my hips are fuller, and my breasts are a nice, decent handful.
God, why am I thinking about my body when I should be focusing on the sponsorship? That's the whole purpose of this meeting.
I leave and get there in under forty minutes. He lives in a penthouse—of course, he does. I shoot him a text, and he comes downstairs to pick me up. He's in dress pants and a black shirt with the first few buttons undone, displaying his hard, chiseled chest, and his hair is all messy like it used to be.
Oh, God.
"Nikki," he says once he's close enough to me. He kisses my cheek, and his stubble grazes my skin. His scent is so heavenly that it makes my mouth water. Fresh, aquatic, musky. Minty. To die for. "It's so good to see you. Come on in. Let's get this party started."
"Party?" I echo as I follow him inside the building.
"Of course," he says. He has his own elevator to his floor. This is the kind of wealth I can't even wrap my head around. He shoots me a sideways glance, and smirks. "I don't know about you, but I intend to have a lot of fun tonight, Nikki."
"What's that supposed to mean?" I ask, trying to sound unbothered but failing miserably. Pitifully.
His gaze meets mine steadily. "I guess we'll find out together, won't we?"