me,” Sam said when I returned to
work. “Several customers came in asking for you. You’re quite popular.”
My head snapped up. “Really? Who?” I cringed inwardly,
hoping I didn’t sound too eager.
“A few ladies.”
“Oh.” I continued polishing the counter, my hope wilting. “That’s
nice.” No need hoping for the impossible. Nick belonged to someone else.
***
Over the weekend Nick was to marry Elizabeth, I slept at
Oasis, away from TV, newspapers, and magazines. And I worked myself to the
bone.
Out of solidarity, Melisa, who enjoyed some good celebrity
gossip, promised not to take a peek. She, too, was disappointed. Since the day
I told her the man I’d met that day at Grace Chapel had been Nick Johnson, she’d
been excited about meeting a millionaire in person.
Sunday evening, I returned to my apartment and enjoyed a
long, hot shower. The warm water mingled with and washed away the tears, and I
vowed to let him go for good. I would forget his touch, his kiss, his eyes. He
was a married man now.
Chapter Eleven
The door announcer chimed to signal a customer entry. I knew
my colleagues would swoop on whoever it happened to be, so I didn’t bother
turning around. Since I’d had a lot of special treatment, I was trying to step back.
Not that they appreciated it.
Ignoring the shuffle near the entrance, I continued wrapping
a jewelry package for a customer who was coming to pick it up in two hours.
“I’d love for Miss Adams to serve me, please,” a male voice
said.
I wheeled around, and my knees buckled. I grabbed the edge
of a display case to steady myself.
Nick wore a black-and-white motorcycle jacket, his hair was wind-blown,
his eyes as bright as the gems around us. Tucked under his right arm was a
black helmet.
My mouth was a desert. I’d never seen him in anything other than
a suit. He looked incredibly sexy.
I watched as Amanda and the others stepped back to allow him
to pass, their faces shadowed with envy.
“Hi, Carlene.” Nick approached me. He gazed behind him at my
colleagues, and they quickly scattered themselves around the store, embarrassed
to be caught staring. “Can we talk?” he whispered, pointing at a random piece
in a display.
Abandoning my gift-wrapping, I stepped to the display and
unlocked it, as if I were about to show him something. My colleagues would
never keep their mouths shut if they knew about me and Nick. “There’s nothing for
us to talk about. You’re married.”
“It didn’t take place.”
My hand froze on the slim glass door, and hope flickered
inside me. “There was no wedding?”
“No.” He paused. “That’s what I want to talk to you about. Give
me just five minutes?”
Julie walked by with a customer and gave us a brief glance.
“Not here.”
“Then let’s go someplace else. Somewhere more private.” He picked
up a pair of pearl earrings, as if he were considering buying them.
“Where?”
“The Lux Hotel.”
“I’ll be there at six.”
“Perfect. I’ll be waiting for you at the restaurant bar.” He
placed the earrings back, and less than a minute later he was gone, leaving behind
a trail of cologne.
I returned to work with considerably less focus.
***
The receptionist at the Lux, a twenty-something woman with a
straight bob and teeth so white they matched the walls, pointed me in the
direction of the restaurant.
I felt like a million dollars walking through the marbled
lobby, past men and women with monogrammed luggage.
Nick sat on a barstool, his back to me. He had changed into
a brown shirt with the sleeves rolled up. Whatever he put on, he looked hot.
With every step, my heart beat faster. What did he want to
tell me?
“Nick,” I said when I was close enough to be heard.
He swiveled around and flashed a dimpled smile. “Carlene,
you came.”
I laughed. “You did say it was important.”
He hopped from the stool and planted a kiss on my cheek, which
tingled after he pulled
work. “Several customers came in asking for you. You’re quite popular.”
My head snapped up. “Really? Who?” I cringed inwardly,
hoping I didn’t sound too eager.
“A few ladies.”
“Oh.” I continued polishing the counter, my hope wilting. “That’s
nice.” No need hoping for the impossible. Nick belonged to someone else.
***
Over the weekend Nick was to marry Elizabeth, I slept at
Oasis, away from TV, newspapers, and magazines. And I worked myself to the
bone.
Out of solidarity, Melisa, who enjoyed some good celebrity
gossip, promised not to take a peek. She, too, was disappointed. Since the day
I told her the man I’d met that day at Grace Chapel had been Nick Johnson, she’d
been excited about meeting a millionaire in person.
Sunday evening, I returned to my apartment and enjoyed a
long, hot shower. The warm water mingled with and washed away the tears, and I
vowed to let him go for good. I would forget his touch, his kiss, his eyes. He
was a married man now.
Chapter Eleven
The door announcer chimed to signal a customer entry. I knew
my colleagues would swoop on whoever it happened to be, so I didn’t bother
turning around. Since I’d had a lot of special treatment, I was trying to step back.
Not that they appreciated it.
Ignoring the shuffle near the entrance, I continued wrapping
a jewelry package for a customer who was coming to pick it up in two hours.
“I’d love for Miss Adams to serve me, please,” a male voice
said.
I wheeled around, and my knees buckled. I grabbed the edge
of a display case to steady myself.
Nick wore a black-and-white motorcycle jacket, his hair was wind-blown,
his eyes as bright as the gems around us. Tucked under his right arm was a
black helmet.
My mouth was a desert. I’d never seen him in anything other than
a suit. He looked incredibly sexy.
I watched as Amanda and the others stepped back to allow him
to pass, their faces shadowed with envy.
“Hi, Carlene.” Nick approached me. He gazed behind him at my
colleagues, and they quickly scattered themselves around the store, embarrassed
to be caught staring. “Can we talk?” he whispered, pointing at a random piece
in a display.
Abandoning my gift-wrapping, I stepped to the display and
unlocked it, as if I were about to show him something. My colleagues would
never keep their mouths shut if they knew about me and Nick. “There’s nothing for
us to talk about. You’re married.”
“It didn’t take place.”
My hand froze on the slim glass door, and hope flickered
inside me. “There was no wedding?”
“No.” He paused. “That’s what I want to talk to you about. Give
me just five minutes?”
Julie walked by with a customer and gave us a brief glance.
“Not here.”
“Then let’s go someplace else. Somewhere more private.” He picked
up a pair of pearl earrings, as if he were considering buying them.
“Where?”
“The Lux Hotel.”
“I’ll be there at six.”
“Perfect. I’ll be waiting for you at the restaurant bar.” He
placed the earrings back, and less than a minute later he was gone, leaving behind
a trail of cologne.
I returned to work with considerably less focus.
***
The receptionist at the Lux, a twenty-something woman with a
straight bob and teeth so white they matched the walls, pointed me in the
direction of the restaurant.
I felt like a million dollars walking through the marbled
lobby, past men and women with monogrammed luggage.
Nick sat on a barstool, his back to me. He had changed into
a brown shirt with the sleeves rolled up. Whatever he put on, he looked hot.
With every step, my heart beat faster. What did he want to
tell me?
“Nick,” I said when I was close enough to be heard.
He swiveled around and flashed a dimpled smile. “Carlene,
you came.”
I laughed. “You did say it was important.”
He hopped from the stool and planted a kiss on my cheek, which
tingled after he pulled
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