Dirty Boss (Dirty Rich 2)

"I want to stay in New York."

"You can stay here. Or at the Brooklyn place. The sublet goes through June." She slides back into the couch. "Lizzy, I want to sell the Brooklyn apartment. Unless you want to live there."

"What? It's where we grew up. Everything last year—"

She turns to face me. "Half that money is yours. That's more than enough for college anywhere you want."

"But—"

"I don't care how much you fight me. I'm not going to let you take on the whole world alone. You're my best friend. You'll always be my best friend. I'd rather have you in New York, and I'm not afraid of using any tool in my arsenal to keep you here."

"Including that one—" I nod to Blake's home office.

She nods. Her expression gets serious. "If you want to talk about Nick, I'm here. I'll skip school, and we can go shopping. My treat. I need to pick up some honeymoon stuff."

"Do I have to talk about Nick?"

"You don't have to do anything. But I'm here. I'm always here." She throws her arms around me in a tight hug. "I've never seen you this miserable. Not since the accident."

"Yeah."

"I'm worried."

"You're always worried."

She grabs her ice cream and settles back into the couch. "I'm trying to respect your boundaries, you know."

I nod.

"You might feel better if you talk about it."

"I might."

I focus my attention on my ice cream. When I'm done, I drag the spoon around the porcelain cup, drawing circles in the melted dessert.

Maybe I'll feel better if I talk about it.

Like it's not impossible.

At the next commercial break, I take a deep breath. "I just want him to be happy."

Kat nods, attentive and sweet as always. I start talking and I don't stop until I've got nothing left to say.

Monday, Kat skips her afternoon classes. We take the subway to Midtown and dig through a dozen boutiques and department stores in search of the perfect beach clothes.

Kat makes a point of asking my advice on every single article of clothing. The second my mind drifts back to Nick, she's there with a question about a style of bikini or the best pattern to match with white shorts or some inquiry that I can explain in great detail.

After three hours of shopping, I'm exhausted. I leave her to try on a dozen bikinis to find some caffeine. I pass the lingerie section on my way to the coffee shop.

The colorful lace catches my eye.

My head flashes with all sorts of mental images that were totally delicious two weeks ago. Right now, the thought of Nick with his pupils dilated and his lips parted only makes me feel heavy.

It hurts. It hurts a lot. But this is the only way I can help him. This is what will make him happy.

I can't bring myself to order a hot drink. I'm too cold to bear any threat of melting. I dump simple syrup into a cold-brewed iced coffee and plant in the tiny wooden chair to drink it.

Eventually, Kat finds me. She's holding half a dozen shopping bags. She drops them in a mess on the floor to slide into the seat next to mine.

"You want to talk?" she asks.

I shake my head.

Her eyes go to the clock on the wall. "I have a meeting for a group project. You okay to leave?"

"You can go straight there. I'll take your stuff home."

"You sure?"

I nod.

She squeezes me in an incredibly tight hug. I scoop up her bags and follow her to the subway. I plant in a seat on the 6 train. She leaves at Times Square to transfer.

The tiles whiz by. The people who enter and exit the train whiz by. Somehow, I get off the train at the right stop. It's cold today. The sun sinks into the horizon with a streak of red, like it's bleeding and broken and about to disappear.

Once I'm in the penthouse, I drop the bags by the front door and I bury myself in my room.

There's a breaking news story about Odyssey on my Google Alert. The headline tells me all I need to know.

CFO Shepard Marlowe Decides Not to Sell Odyssey and Controversial Virtual Assistant Project. Claims Company is Worth Five Times the OmniTech Offer.

Nick's company is safe. I should feel better. Freer. Calmer. Something.

But I still feel heavy. I still feel so heavy I can barely breathe.

Chapter Thirty-Two

I'm halfway through season two of Battlestar Galactica when a knock breaks my concentration. It's too early to be Kat. But what the hell could Blake want with me?

I yell in the direction of the door. "Kat isn't here."

"I know."

The door opens. Blake is standing there in his expensive black suit, his expression fire and steel.

"I want to talk to you. There's Thai food on the table." He moves to the living room like he's sure I'll follow.

I curse my hunger and my undying love of spicy shrimp dishes.

There's even a can of diet soda.

Fine. That earns my future brother-in-law exactly twenty minutes of my attention.

I fix my plate with a giant scoop of brown rice and another of green curry. It smells good and, right now, I'll take any hint of good I can get.

"I heard about Odyssey." He pours himself a glass of whiskey on the rocks. "Is that good news?"

I nod.

"Lizzy, I'm not going to waste your time." He settles into a seat at the table. His voice is even, like he's talking about the weather. "I transferred two hundred thousand dollars into your checking account."

"You what?"

He holds his expression. "With you and Kat owning the Brooklyn apartment, you no longer qualify for need-based scholarships. I did that. You're a smart young woman and you deserve options. I'm giving yours back."

"Get the 'I told you so' over with."

"You followed your heart. I can't fault you for that."

"Ugh. You sound like Kat."

Blake smiles. His expression is light, like he's so happy he could die. On him that's a slight crinkling of the eyes and a slight upward curve of the lips. But it's happy. There's no mistaking that.

"She already offered to sell the place in Brooklyn." I look Blake in the eyes. "Do you think she really wants that?"

"She's always wants the best for you."

"Yeah. She always wants the best for everyone else." I play with my fork. "Do you have any idea how lucky you are to have her?"

"Luckiest guy in the world."

"At least you realize that." I take a bite. Red peppers, green peas, and the rich taste of coconut. It's good. Really good.

Blake pulls something from his laptop bag and slides it across the table to me. "You got into NYU, Hunter College, Rutgers, and a dozen other schools within two hours of the city."

"Funny, 'cause I don't remember applying to any of them." I throw him a death stare. "What did you do?"

"I copied your Columbia essay and input your information. It only took an hour." He makes eye contact. "NYU is thirty minutes on the subway, and Hunter is less than twenty blocks away. You can stay here if you'd like."

"You'll be newlyweds."

"There's space."

"You'd really want me in your fancy apartment, cock-blocking you twenty-four/seven?"

He smiles. "You won't manage to cock-block me. I'll soundproof our bedroom."

"Please stop."

"It's official in two weeks, but as far as I'm concerned, you're already family. You're always welcome."

Some of the coldness melts away. I'm family now. It feels real. Hell, it's the first time I've ever seen Blake as more than that guy who makes Kat happy.

He's really going to be my family.

Maybe... maybe I don't have to do all of this alone. Maybe it's okay to accept someone's help.

I take a long sip of my soda to cool my scorching taste buds. My attention goes back to Blake. He's unflappably calm, but he's also sincere.

For the first time, I understand what Kat sees in him.

He's s

weet.

We finish dinner in silence. After, I take my Battlestar Galactica marathon to the TV in the living room.

Blake joins me until Kat gets home. Then they go to their room, probably so he can prove just how little I am able to cock-block him.

There's no one at Odyssey when I arrive Wednesday morning. Of course there's not. It's eight, and start time is nine.

There's a light at the end of the hall. Nick's office.

I take a deep breath, gathering my courage, but I'm not ready to face him. I wait at the coffee shop across the street. One vanilla latte, and I'm a little more awake.

It's only eight forty-five. I order a second drink so I won't be tempted to text him and confess everything.

I don't know much about Shepard, but I'm positive he won't give me any wiggle room with this arrangement. That means I need to keep Nick at a distance for two weeks.

And that's if he wants anything to do with me.

My drink is good. Warm, sweet, robust. I savor it as much as I can. The caffeine has me on edge. I take a long walk around the financial district. It only helps makes me extra late to work.

It's ten-thirty when I step into the elevator.

Oh well. It's not like attention is on me.

I go straight to my desk, but it's already impossible to concentrate.

There's coffee and a bagel on my desk. Next to it are two packets of half and half and two of brown sugar. Exactly how I fix it every morning.

The last thing I need is more coffee. I drink it anyway. At least needing to pee every thirty minutes gives me something to do. There's plenty of work. I'm in the middle of a project and I have another week or two before I need guidance from a senior programmer.

I get sucked into coding until I hear his voice. It's loud, booming.