“I adapted the recipe,” Margie said. “I thought if we only sold these at Christmas, people would appreciate them more.”
“And pay more for them,” Suze said. “Margie, you’re a genius.”
“I am, aren’t I?” Margie said, delighted. “I’m freezing the dough so I can make it once a week but bake them fresh every morning. It’s so much better that way.”
Nell stopped unpacking pictures to look at her, surprised at her confidence. “Good for you,” she said. She put the pictures on the box. “This one’s your dad, Margie.” She finished off her cookie and watched Margie smile as she recognized her dad in the twentysomething, scotch-clutching Trevor.
“I should get a copy of this for him for Christmas,” Margie said. “He’s been really depressed lately. This would cheer him up.”
“Who’s the guy who looks like Gabe? His dad?” Suze said.
“Yes.” Nell pulled out another picture. “Here’s Gabe and his dad together.”
“My God, he’s young,” Suze said.
Nell looked at the slender boy in the picture. “He’s eighteen there. He started working here at fifteen. Can you imagine?” She pulled out another one. “This is Patrick and Lia, Gabe’s mom. Their wedding picture.”
“She’s pretty,” Margie said.
“Her jacket’s a little tight through the stomach,” Suze said.
“She was expecting Gabe,” Nell said, looking at Lia’s vivid face above her practical pinstriped suit. “She is pretty, isn’t she? Gabe’s got her eyes.”
“Oh, look at this,” Margie said, picking up the next one. “Chloe’s just a baby.”
“Chloe has a baby,” Suze said, looking closer at the picture. “Is that Lu?”
“Yes,” Nell said, and recited the names as she moved her fingers across the picture. “Gabe, Patrick, Riley, and Chloe and Lu in front.”
“That’s Riley?” Suze said and took the picture from her.
“At fifteen,” Nell said. “1981. Gabe said Lu had just been born, so they took a family picture. His dad died a couple of weeks later.”
“Riley was a cute kid,” Suze said.
So was Gabe, Nell thought, looking at Gabe at twenty-five.
“Chloe was the secretary,” Suze said.
“Yep. So was Gabe’s mom.”
“Hmm,” Suze said and handed it back.
“I’ve been thinking about Chloe’s china,” Margie said, apropos of nothing. “I think it’s too plain with just the star on it.”
“China?” Nell said, coming back from 1981.
“It’s white,” Margie said. “And I think something with color would be good, but I want to keep it in period, too. What do you think?”
“Don’t ask Nell,” Suze said. “You can’t afford her taste.”
“Fiestaware,” Nell said. “It’s really bright and it comes in a lot of colors. You used to be able to get it cheap at garage sales.”
“EBay,” Suze said. “I’ll show you how to look for it tonight, Margie.”
“Tonight?” Margie said. “Won’t Jack mind?”
“No.” Suze bit into her cookie again. “These are really good. Can I have the recipe?”
“If I give you the recipe, will you come here and buy them?” Margie said. “No.”
“My God,” Suze said, “we’ve created a monster,” and Margie beamed at her.
Nell watched Suze instead. Not a happy woman. And she didn’t get happier as the month progressed. Margie’s cookies were mentioned in the Dispatch and her business doubled, much to Budge’s dismay, and Suze began to help her out, eventually working full days without telling Jack. “It’s not worth the fight,” she told Nell. “And he’s never there, so why should he care?”
“Can’t think of a reason,” Nell said and hunted up her divorce lawyer’s card, just in case.
* * *
Christmas Day at Suze’s had its high points—Margie gave them the almond cookie recipe on the condition they’d tell no one—but it also had its lows—Trevor barely spoke to Jack, Budge was rude to Nell in retaliation for The Cup, Olivia was more obnoxious than usual, and Jack gave Suze a diamond bracelet identical to one he’d given her the Christmas before and then left to take his mother home, disappearing until after midnight again.
“Let’s spend New Year’s Eve together,” Nell said, as they sat in the guest room, freeing Marlene from her angel wings.
“Jack might actually show up on New Year’s Eve,” Suze said. “But hell, yes, come over here. I’d rather kiss you than him anyway.” She set Marlene free. “There you go, puppy. Holiday’s over.”
Marlene rolled over on her back and squirmed until the memory of the wings was gone, her long brown coat grown out from the indignity of her September disguise, and Nell scratched her tummy until she stretched out and sighed.
“Sometimes I feel guilty,” she said.
“About what?”
“Marlene.” Nell stroked the dog’s tummy again, watching the dog’s face. “I love her so much, but I stole her from somebody.”
“Who didn’t appreciate her,” Suze said.
“We don’t know that,” Nell said. “I love her, but she’s a drama queen. People probably think I abuse her.”
“Think about something else,” Suze said. “How’d Gabe like the pictures?”
“He really did,” Nell said, smiling as she remembered. “Riley liked them, too, but Gabe looked at them on the walls for a long time, and then he said, ‘These are great, thank you.’”
“That was it?” Suze said.
“That’s a lot for Gabe,” Nell said. “I could tell. They meant a lot.”
“I was hoping he’d sweep you into his arms and say, ‘My darling!’” Suze said. “What’s wrong with him?”
“Evidently photos of his family don’t turn him on. There’s nothing wrong with him.” Nell thought about Gabe, standing in the office, staring at the pictures. “There’s not a thing wrong with him.”
Suze snorted. “So what did he get you?”
“Me?” Nell came back from her memory. “A desk chair. From him and Riley both.”
“Oh, God,” Suze said. “The man is hopeless.”
“No, really, it’s perfect. It’s just like the one I had in my old office.” When Suze didn’t look impressed, she added, “It’s ergonomic and expensive as hell. I’d never have asked for it. I think Riley asked Jase about it.”
“Good for Riley,” Suze said.
“Riley also gave Marlene a huge box of dog biscuits,” Nell said, scratching the dog’s stomach again. “He and Marlene have a very close relationship.”
“Has he ever met a female he hasn’t had a very close relationship with?”
Nell patted Suze’s knee. “Why don’t we go downstairs and eat something? What do you have besides ham?”
“I think there’s lasagna again,” Suze said. “But food is not love.”
“No, but it is food.” Nell stood up.
Marlene rolled over and looked at them both, clearly expecting the worst.
“Biscuit,” Nell said, and Marlene leaped from the bed and trotted off to the stairs and the kitchen.
“That’s the way we should go after life,” Nell told Suze, following the dog down the stairs. “Just lunge for it.”
“Cheap talk,” Suze said, and Nell gave up and concentrated on talking about everything except Jack and his resounding absence from the scene.
* * *
At five on New Year’s Eve, Nell took the last of the reports in to Gabe to sign before she left for Suze’s. She watched him, his face serious in the pool of light that his green-shaded lamp cast on the desk. It threw the planes of his face into relief, made his eyes even darker than they really were, and highlighted his strong hand as it slashed away across the page, signing his name with the same passion and determination he did everything.
He finished and put the pen down, and she said, “Thanks,” and gathered the papers up clumsily, trying to get out before she lost
it and went for him like Marlene after leftover ham. “Uh, have a nice holiday.”
She retreated as fast as she could, but he said, “Nell?” and she turned at the door, fumbling the papers into order, trying to look bright and efficient instead of incandescent with lust.
“Yes?”
“Are you all right?” He frowned at her from behind his desk, and even frowning he looked hot. She really was losing her mind if disapproval made her pant.
“I’m fine,” Nell said gaily. “Couldn’t be better. Gotta go. Going to meet Suze. New Year’s Eve, you know. Parties.”
She shut up as he stood and walked around the desk. “What’s wrong?”
He was standing a good six feet away from her, next to his desk. You’re too far away: I want you touching me.
She closed her eyes at the thought of his hands on her, and he said, “Spill it.”
“There’s nothing wrong,” she said, opening her eyes to look confidently into his, but she couldn’t, and her eyes slid away at the last minute. “Stop being a detective.”
“I’ve known you for four months,” Gabe said. “If you’re not yapping at me, there’s something on your mind. Tell me what it is and for God’s sake don’t try to fix it on your own. This place can’t take any more of your successes.”
“There is no problem,” Nell said, and met his eyes. Mistake. That dark, level gaze made her breathing come from deep inside her. He stood very still as the blood rose in her face, and she said, “I’m fine,” but it came out faintly, on a breath, and the moment stretched out into a hot empty eternity before he shook his head.
“I was never going to make it to July anyway,” he said.
He stepped toward her, and something gave inside her and she met him halfway, in the middle of the worn Oriental, clutching at his shoulders as he slid his hand around her waist, bumping noses with him as she went up on her toes and he bent down, and finally, finally tasting him as his mouth found hers.
Chapter Thirteen
Nell held on as he kissed her, clutching his shirt to pull him closer, and when she broke the kiss, he ran his hands over her, tracing heat, until she was breathless. “Wait a minute,” she said, and he said, “No,” and bent to her again.
“Hey,” she said, ducking away, trying to get her breath. “What happened to ‘Don’t fuck the help’?”
“You’re not that much help,” he said and took her mouth again before she could answer, his body hard against hers, his hands hot on her back under her sweater. She thought, Oh, God, yes, and pulled his shirt free so she could slide her hands up his back and touch him, too, making him draw in his breath and then kiss her harder. He backed her against the door and she let him, needing it to push back and hold her own, only once stopping to think, Maybe I should pretend to be soft and let him lead like Tim. Then she thought, No, it’s Gabe, and she knew she’d never have to be careful again. She took his face in her hands and kissed him again, and he held her as if he were never going to let her go, his hands on her everywhere, kissing her for long minutes until she was dizzy and aching for him. Finally he said breathlessly against her mouth, “I have this apartment upstairs,” and she shuddered a little at the thought—private, naked, rolling on cool sheets—feeling him hard against her as she pressed closer, and that made her moan, a tiny moan that he must have heard because he said, “Or here’s good, too,” and pulled her down onto the ancient Oriental.
He was heavy on top of her, and she wrapped her legs around him as her skirt rolled up to her hips, arching against all that hard muscle and lean length, pressing back, no hesitation at all, doing anything to get him closer as his mouth moved down her neck and his hands slid under her sweater. She raked her nails down his back and he held her down, kissing her so hard that her blood pounded in her ears.
Then Riley knocked and opened the door and smacked her in the head.
“Very nice,” he said, looking down. “You owe me twenty.”
Gabe slammed the door shut with the flat of his hand and said to Nell, “You okay?” He sounded breathless and looked hot and disheveled and worried and turned on and everything she’d ever needed, and she said, “I want you so much I’m insane with it.”
“That would explain the past four months,” he said, leaning down to kiss her again, but she sat up from underneath him, knocking him off balance and grabbing him by the collar as she rolled him over on his back to climb on top of him.
“No insults,” she said, straddling him, trying to catch her breath. “You’re supposed to be seducing me.”
“You should have just told me you wanted this,” he said, running his hands down to her rear end to pull her tighter against him. “You didn’t have to steal the dog to get my attention—”
“Or sleep with Riley?” she said, pushing his shoulders down.
His eyes darkened. “That you’re going to forget.” He put his hand on the back of her neck and pulled her down to kiss her, his mouth hard on hers.
“Make me,” she said, her mouth still pressed to his, and he slid his fingers up under her skirt—my God, this is Gabe—and into her underwear—don’t stop—and then slickly into her, making her shudder against him again while he breathed heavier because of her heat.
“Forget,” he said, and she caught her breath and said, “Not enough,” and he rolled her onto her back and began to strip her clothes from her with such ruthless efficiency that it took her a moment before she did the same for him, ripping his shirt open to bite into the hot flesh of his shoulder. He jerked away and pinned her down again, his hands hard on her hips, his mouth hot on her breast, and she dissolved into the blurred tangle they made, losing her boundaries as he moved against her, feeling only heat and friction and pressure as she twisted in his arms, loving the hot slide of his body on hers and needing him so much that when he finally came into her, she shimmered in his arms, trying to consume him the way he consumed her, moving fast against him, until she finally broke, biting her lip as every nerve in her body surged.
When they were quiet on the floor, fighting for breath, Gabe said, “Sweet Jesus, is it always going to be like that?” and Nell said, “Oh, I hope so.”
He laughed and kissed her. “Some day let’s do something where we cooperate.” His voice broke off as she let her hand trail down his back, and she watched him close his eyes, still breathless.
“I’m hungry,” she said. “Is there food in your apartment?”
“Everything you’ve ever wanted is in my apartment.” He pushed himself off her, and the cool air rushed in to take his place, making her nerves sing again. He stood and reached down for her hand, completely unselfconscious in his nakedness, and she let him pull her to her feet so she could put her arms around him again and touch all that heat and muscle, skin to skin, knowing he was hers, at least for tonight.
“Prove it,” she said and kissed him again, tasting him again, falling into him again, feeling as though she’d finally come home to a man strong enough to love her the way she needed to be loved.
* * *
When Nell hadn’t shown by eleven and there was no answer except for the machine at the agency, Suze shrugged on her coat and walked across the park to see what was up. If Nell was working late, she would have called—which was more than Jack ever did—so something must be wrong. It was Suze’s duty as a best friend to go find out what.
Also, she had to get out of that big empty house.
The park was beautiful in the moonlight, the ice on the trees gleaming silver and the melting snow making a patchwork on the ground. Except for the occasional reveler driving by on his way to a party with people and noise and laughter, she was all alone.
She was alone a lot lately.
The heels of her boots clicked on the concrete walk as she picked up speed, passing the big stone pillars that marked the end of Riley’s side of the park. It wasn’t strange that Jack was away so much, even on New Year’s Eve; it was a tough job being partner in a law firm. And besides, she’d made it past
her thirtieth birthday. Jack had left Abby when she’d turned thirty and dumped Vicki at twenty-eight, but here she was at the ripe old age of thirty-two and he still loved her.
She was sure he still loved her. She just wasn’t sure she loved him.
When she walked past The Cup and turned down the dark side street to the agency door, she realized she’d been stupid to walk around the Village that late. She knocked on the door and peered through the big window into the darkness. Nell wasn’t there.
She was going to have to walk back home alone. It was suddenly a lot darker and a lot colder, and she didn’t want to walk home alone.
She pounded on the door one more time, and the door opened and Riley stood there.
“What the hell?” he said.
“Nell never showed up,” Suze said, her teeth chattering a little from the cold. “I was worried.”
“So you went out walking through the city at night,” Riley said. “Jesus. Get in here.”
He turned on the light as she came in, and she saw he was dressed in a dark suit and tie, looking as close to distinguished as she’d ever seen him. Or maybe she was just desperate for company and not as picky as usual.
“Party?” she said.
“Always,” he said. “What’s Jack doing letting you wander around in the dark?”
Suze lifted her chin. “Jack doesn’t let me do anything. I let me.”
Riley shoved Nell’s phone toward her. “Call him for a ride home.”
“He’s not there,” Suze said.
Riley said, “Oh,” and put the phone back.
“Nell’s not at her apartment, either,” she said to change the subject. “Do you know where—”
“Upstairs. With Gabe.”
“Really?” Suze said, brightening a little. “Tell me they’re not talking about the agency.”
“I don’t think they’re talking at all. Although given their mutual passion for work, they could be running spreadsheets by now.”
“But they weren’t earlier.”
“Not when I walked in on them.”
“I forgive her for not calling me.” Suze said, and turned back to the door.