Slow Hand (20 page)

Although she maintained that she was a city girl, the happiest moments in her life were still the simplest ones—like the hours sipping sweet tea and playing cards in her MeeMaw's kitchen back in Lavonia. Although she'd dropped her drawl and eradicated the outward signs of her rural upbringing, she was still small town in her heart. Could she have found contentment in Montana?

Damn
it, Nikki! You made your choice—the right one. It was great with Wade while it lasted, but it's done. Now accept it and move
on.

She found herself staring at her own front door without even remembering how she got there. Dropping her bags, Nikki fished her keys from her purse only to discover the door unlocked.

What
the
hell?

She dug her cell out of her purse with trembling fingers, and was about to dial 911 when she noticed a familiar looking car in the parking lot—the only one in worse shape than hers—and one she suspected would be repossessed at any time. The second thing she noted was the TV blaring inside her apartment. She slapped the phone shut, dropped it back into her purse, and pushed the door open. Once inside she drew in a lungful of air, letting it out with an exasperated cry, “Shelby Jane Baker! What the
hell
are you doing in my apartment?”

Her younger sister never took her eyes off the TV. “Watching Jerry Springer.”

Nikki slammed her bags down and picked up the remote, furiously clicking off the television. “Why here? Did they repo your TV, too?” She was about to give Shelby another earful until her sister turned her platinum head to face Nikki straight on. Her lip was split and her left eye was mottled shades of green and purple, and hideously swollen.

“Holy shit!” Nikki cried. “What did that bastard-son-of-a-bitch-asshole do to you?”

“I keyed his new truck for screwing my neighbor. He beat the bejesus out of me. Then I left,” Shelby answered in classic, blunt Shelby style.

“And broke into my place?”

She shrugged. “Where else was I to go?”

“Did you call the police? You need to file a restraining order.”

“Yeah, right.” Shelby snorted. “As if I want
them
to know where I am.”

“What is it this time?” Nikki groaned.

“Don't be melodramatic. It was only a couple of bad checks.”

“Does Asshole know you're here?”

“Not yet. Probably won't know much of anything even after he wakes up.”

“Wakes up?” Nikki scowled. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“I slipped some valium into his bottle of Crown. How was your trip?”

Chapter 18

Jolted awake after another restless night, Nikki slapped the snooze bar on her alarm clock, and then pulled a pillow over her head, dreading her return to work. Although she was tempted to blow it off altogether, wisdom told her not to act rashly—at least not until she had enough money in the bank to tell her boss to kiss her ass.

After dozing through two more alarm cycles, she finally dragged herself from bed and stumbled to the kitchen to start the coffee. On her way back to shower, she thumped loudly on Shelby's door.

“Go away,” her sister groaned.

Nikki cracked the door open. “Don't you have someplace to be?”

“Like where?” Shelby mumbled, her head still buried under the covers.

“Like work,” Nikki snapped. “Aren't you going?”

Shelby sat up with a guilty look. “About that. I meant to tell you that I'm kinda between gigs right now.”

“Again? Did you get fired?”

“No. I quit.” Shelby heaved a dramatic sigh. “Don't look at me like I'm some kind of vermin, Nikki! A lot of people are out of work right now.”

“But you were only there a month!”

“Almost two, and I had good reason for leaving.”

“Yeah and what was that?” Nikki couldn't hide her skepticism.

“You don't understand how it is, Nikki. You just sit there all day in cubieland. You've never had to deal with the kind of dickwads I have to face every day—like the ones demanding blow jobs. That asshole offered me an extra fifty bucks to blow him.” Shelby rolled her eyes. “Fifty…as if I'd ever.”

“You're shitting me.”

“Wish I was. You'd be surprised how many clients think a ‘happy ending' is included with a massage. Tantric costs extra.
Mucho
extra
.”

“Tantric?”

“You know, erotic massage.”

“No. I don't know.” Nikki shook her head. “And I think I don't
want
to know.”

“Probably not,” Shelby smirked.

“Are you at least
looking
for something else?”

“I was planning to,” Shelby said. “But you can hardly expect me to show up for an interview looking like this.”

She had a point. The bruising was hideous. “Look, Shel, you can stay here for a while, but I expect you to earn your keep.”

Shelby scowled. “What does that mean?”

“I want you to help out. You can at least clean the place up while I'm gone. You know, dishes, vacuuming, windows…”

Shelby's eyes widened in incredulity. “You expect me to wash the freaking windows?”

“Yeah, I do.”

She cursed under her breath.

“What's that?” Nikki asked.

“I'll comb the want ads today.”

“That might be best.” Nikki closed the door with a smile.

The rest of the morning followed her normal routine, sipping coffee from her travel mug while sitting in bumper-to-bumper traffic, jockeying for a decent parking space, and then rushing to punch the time clock. Her week spent in Montana was the first break she'd had in three years from a life of redundancy. Every day for Nikki was pretty much like the last, but predictability was safe, right? And security was what she craved most after a lifetime of revolving door relationships.

What Wade had offered her was neither safe nor secure. He was a gamble she wasn't ready to take. So why did she now feel so hollow? Why did every action feel dull and mechanical, as if she was now nothing but a walking automaton? As usual, she stopped by the break room to refill her coffee mug before proceeding to her cube where Jessica and Robert prairie-dogged from the other side to greet her.

“Morning, Nik,” said Jess. “Welcome back.”

“Have a good trip?” Robert asked.

“Not good, exactly. But definitely interesting. Thanks for asking.”

Robert was a decent sort and she'd even dated him a few times in her effort at rehabilitation. But he had really sucked in bed the one time she'd gotten drunk enough to give him a shot. He'd been good-humored about it when she'd turned him down for another date after that. They both realized they were better as friends than lovers. She hoped he and Jess might eventually make a go of it. She was really cute in a geek-girl way. Maybe he'd take notice if she talked Jess into a makeover? Nikki decided to put it on her to-do list.

Nikki booted her computer and opened the bottom desk drawer to stash her purse, but then hesitated. She hadn't checked her phone messages since last night. She wondered if
he'd
tried to call. It had been almost five days since they'd spoken. Surely there was some news about the estate. She swiped her iPhone screen to the message menu. Nothing. No texts either. Maybe he'd sent her an email?

“You might want to watch your ass, Nikster,” Robert warned, adding in his best Austin Powers voice, “Mini-Me's on the warpath.” At least Robert kept things interesting. He had nicknames for just about everyone. The department head was Dr. Evil, and their four-foot-ten-inch supervisor was Mini-Me.

“Thanks.” Nikki laughed and set the phone down, logging onto the Internet to check her webmail account. An email from Wade, even if it was only business, would at least reopen communication.

“Psst!” The hissed warning from Jess came too late. Mini-Me had materialized out of nowhere.
Shit!
Nikki's stomach dropped. Why couldn't she have had at least had five minutes before the be-atch came breathing down her neck?

Hoping to block the view of her monitor, Nikki spun around in her chair. Flashing a bright smile, she greeted her supervisor. “Good morning, Phyllis.”

“So you finally made it back?” Phyllis replied. “Good thing too. You really put me on the spot, you know. I doubt I could have held your job any longer.”

“I apologize for any trouble, but things got complicated. I lost my wallet on the trip and couldn't do anything until I replaced my ID.”

Phyllis stood on her tiptoes to squint over Nikki's shoulder. Her face screwed up. “Personal use of the Internet is prohibited. You're already treading on thin ice, Nicole. There are a lot of people looking for work, many of whom would show up as expected and follow the rules.”

“I'm sorry, Phyllis.” Nikki forced a look of contrition. “I'm expecting some important communication from the probate attorney.”

“I don't care what you're expecting. You're on the clock now. Or do you think you're special? That corporate policy doesn't apply to you?”

God, how she despised working under a petty, nitpicky little tyrant.

“Of course not,” Nikki replied. “It won't happen again.”

Phyllis's lips got even thinner. “Is that your cell phone? Why isn't it stored in your locker? That makes two infractions.”

Nikki couldn't hold back any longer. “Then I guess I've really made your day, haven't I?”

“Are you trying for insubordination now, Nicole? I'd be more than happy to write you up for that too.”

“You know what, Phyllis? I think I'll save you the trouble.”

Phyllis's gaze narrowed. “If you walk out of here, you'll lose all your remaining vacation pay as well as any chance of a reference.”

Nikki smiled tightly remembering Wade's words. “All things considered, I think it's more than a fair trade. 'Cause I won't have to kiss your bony little ass anymore.” Nikki stood and snatched up both her phone and her purse. Her body trembled, but she held her chin high, walking out to a universal standing ovation.

She'd never done anything so reckless and impulsive, but it felt damned good—so good she even decided to celebrate. On her second impulse of the day, she pulled into the new Organic Emporium, a high-end grocery where she'd previously only window shopped. Now with a wicker basket over her arm, she strolled the neatly stocked aisles of gourmet and exotic foods.

She paused at the meat counter where they displayed only certified grass-fed and hormone-free choices. In addition to the expected chicken, beef, pork, lamb, and veal, there was ostrich, rabbit, bison, elk, and even alligator.

Nikki couldn't help inquiring of the butcher, “Do you carry American Kobe beef?”

“
American
Kobe?” he asked with surprise.

“Yeah,” she said. “I've heard a few ranchers out West are cross-breeding Japanese cows with American Angus.”

The butcher scratched his chin. “I know of a few outfits out West supplying the upscale steak houses, but we don't carry it in the market yet. I could look into special ordering it for you if you like. Do you want me to ask our buyers?”

“No, thank you,” Nikki replied. “I was just curious to know if it was catching on at all.”

She wondered if Dirk had any chance of making a go of it or if Wade was right about cattle ranching being an altogether losing proposition. Then again,
someone
had to raise cattle for the high-end markets.

Nikki hesitated over a twenty-dollar bison steak, but decided that her vegan sister would probably gag at the sight of it. With a sigh, she opted for veggie burgers instead and then headed to the bakery for Shelby's gluten-free buns. Stopping midway to wander the wine aisle, Nikki lingered indecisively in the enormous selection of reds. She knew almost nothing about wine, as all her prior boyfriends had been beer drinkers. Her eyes lit on the Shiraz. She'd never tried it until the dinner with Wade. Thinking about it, she was stunned to realize just how closed to new things she'd been and how limited her world had become.

New things weren't safe. There was always a chance she wouldn't like them—but she'd liked the Shiraz very much. She'd like the beef too. And the mountains. Being truthful, she hadn't even minded the night in the cabin that much. It had felt like an adventure. Every day with Wade had brought something new and exciting. Yet, she'd played it safe, choosing to return to dull and predictable.

Was this who she really was? Who she wanted to be?

Nikki closed her eyes to the image of Wade sitting across the table from her and filling her glass that night at the Old Hotel. She'd tried many new things with him. The wine labels blurred before her burning eyes. Passing on the Shiraz, Nikki opted for a bottle of Biltmore Merlot instead.

After grabbing a bag of buns for the veggie burgers, she decided to quash her misery with something wickedly chocolate. She moved on to the pastry section where she nearly drooled over the mouthwatering selections—until her gaze lit on the cannoli. The remembrance of what had followed their last meal together incited a yearning that went bone deep.

Damn it! Am I so far gone that I can't even make a trip to the grocery store without thinking about him?

No matter how hard she tried to push them aside, her thoughts kept returning to Wade. She wandered the aisles, replaying almost every minute they'd spent together—from the first cocky wink at the Denver airport to the breath-stealing vision of his soap-slickened body. She mentally freeze-framed the last day together when he was shirtless, wielding the ax and gleaming with sweat.

Aching for him in the worst possible way, Nikki abandoned the bakery for the freezer section where she hoped to drown her misery in a tub of Mayfield Cookies 'n' Cream topped with a large jar of fudge sauce.

* * *

Nikki pulled into the parking lot of her apartment complex with an ominous feeling. She supposed the three police squad cars and crowd of gawkers had a great deal to do with that, and strongly suspected she'd find Shelby in the thick of it. Leaving her groceries in the car, she approached her building with jangling nerves. Judging by the demolition-derby condition of Shelby's car and the smashed apartment windows, her fears that Shelby's psycho ex would eventually show up had materialized. Given the evidence, his weapon of mass destruction must have been a sledgehammer. She pushed through the crowd to find the police questioning her sister who, thank goodness, looked unharmed.

Her landlord intercepted, confronting Nikki and shaking a fist. “I'm holding you liable for these damages, Miss Powell. The rental insurance doesn't cover willful destruction of property.”

“Wait a minute,” Nikki replied. “How can you blame me? I wasn't even here and don't have a clue what happened.”

“Your sister was here,” he accused. “Maybe she can tell us all what happened.”

“Are you all right, Shelby?” Nikki asked.

“I am now.”

“What happened?” Nikki asked.

“Dwight showed up…wanting money.”

“Money?”

“Yeah. He heard you had some. Said he needed a loan. He didn't like the answer I gave.”

“Which was?”

“I told him to piss off.”

“You know the assailant?” one of the officers asked.

“Yeah. I know the dickhead,” Shelby replied.

“Did he threaten you?” the officer asked.

Shelby rolled her eyes. “No. He brought me a damned posy of pink carnations. What the hell does it look like?”

“Look, miss…” The cop scowled. “I have a report to make and I'll need a little cooperation from you.”

“You're going to arrest him, aren't you?” Nikki asked.

“We will if we have sufficient witnesses to identify him and if you and your sister decide to press charges. It's a felony offense.”

“Really?” Shelby interrupted. “How much time will he do?”

“If convicted, up to five years.”

“That so?” Shelby's eyes lit up. “Where do I sign?”

* * *

Hours later, after filling out police reports, calling the insurance company, a tow truck for the wrecked car, and a glass company for the smashed windows, Nikki finally sat down with two spoons and an entire tub of somewhat soupy Cookies 'n' Cream.

“Helluva day, eh?” said Shelby, picking up a spoon. “I don't suppose you remembered to get chocolate sauce?”