Perfect Grump (Bad Chicago Bosses)

Heat grows fast and furious under my cheeks.

I want to die.

Paige looks at me—or probably my red-alert blush—and we both burst out laughing.

We make a mad dash to CVS. I dart over to what I need, throw it in a plastic basket with a handle, and toss two heaping bags of gummy bears over it, hoping Paige doesn’t notice.

If she does, she doesn’t mention it.

At least something goes my way tonight.

It’s only the rest of my life that feels like a train off its track, doused in flames.

* * *

The next morning, I wait in the Lincoln across from the jail.

Nick nearly passes me on his way out, then stops and slowly gets in the back seat. Odd.

I can’t remember the last time he chose the back.

“Welcome back to the land of the living,” I say, my eyes flicking back to him.

He looks like a lot of things: worn, relieved, tense, guarded, but mostly, he just looks dead tired.

“Are you ready for some good news?” I venture, hoping it takes the edge off his brief stay behind bars.

He smiles, but it doesn’t touch his eyes. “What?”

“They busted Frisk. His truck’s impounded along with God knows how many pounds of coke. Abby should be released ASAP. Sutton said he couldn’t have done it without you.” I pause, watching how those sharp-green eyes study me. “Thank you so much, Nick. Again.”

“Glad I could help. Take me to Brandt Ideas, please.” His eyes sparkle when he says it, but he’s so subdued today.

Jesus. Did they replace the real Nick Brandt with a double?

“Okay.” I start driving for the office.

At a red light, I watch him in the rearview mirror.

He doesn’t look like a man who just accomplished something we’ve worked at for so long. He’s deflated. Distant. Almost...defeated?

“What’s wrong?” I whisper back.

He gives one slow shake of his head before he falls back into his seat, exhaling deeply.

“What’s wrong?” He echoes slowly, before looking up at me. “Reese, I could have ruined your life last night. If you’d walked in half an hour earlier with Millie...fuck. I could’ve dragged both of you through the legal mud just because you happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Because you were with me. I don’t understand why you’re so happy to see me.”

I smile. “Nick, we wouldn’t have been there if you weren’t protecting us from a crazy drug dealer. I’ll take my chances with online gossip and a spiteful ex. It’s not the end of the world.”

“It is. That’s what I’m trying to make you understand. Everyone has a personal brand now. If you’d been there when the cops showed up, you could’ve caught hell finding a job or a loan if you ever need one. Millie could’ve ended up in state fucking custody last night, and it would’ve been my fault.”

His sigh sounds like a broken rattle.

“I’m not mad at you. The worst didn’t happen. Um, I also have other news—”

“You should be,” he growls back, cutting me off.

He doesn’t ask about my other news, and we’re almost to the office.

“Nothing that happened last night was your fault. Was it?” Maybe he knows something I don’t, but I know Nick and I doubt it.

“It was my fault. All of it. Carmen had a fucking key—”

“You said you gave her one years ago.”

“That’s not the point. If she were just a little smarter, or a little less insane—there’s no telling what might’ve happened to any of us. You could’ve been hurt. Badly. You have to care about that, Reese.”

“Here’s what I care about—you’ve done nothing but protect us. You saved us, Abby included, who you’ve never even met. I...I love you.”

I don’t understand. He’s taking down my head with my heart right now.

“Reese, I love you too much, and that’s exactly the problem. I can’t stay away from you. I can’t call you for company rides anymore, either.”

What the hell?

Panic rips through my blood.

“Don’t worry. Your job is safe. I’m going to the office to put in my resignation right now, and you’ll never have to see me again,” he says, pausing just long enough to feel my heart split down the middle. “I can’t keep doing this. Not to you. And knowing the media storm that’s coming, it’s far from over. I can’t let my past threaten everyone around me. It’s not right, and because I love you like nobody else...I have to let you go.”

Tears brand my cheeks, uncontrollable now.

Too much to let me deal with your past, but not enough to ask me how I feel about our future?

That’s what I want to scream at him. I want to yell a lot of things, but my throat feels like there’s something spiked lodged in it, clawing at my soul.

He opens his door and steps out into a blinding rain. Maybe it’s the coolness, but memories of that night in the park—the back seat, my first time—rampage through my head.