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I stared at Nick. He stared back at me. A glop of jelly fell off his face
Uh...twenty seconds, Abby. Go?
My mouth opened, but the words failed me. The longer he stood there, glaring, looking like some kind of Greek god who got pushed into a swamp—the harder it became. In the end, it was all I could do to clarify.
“Alright,” I tried to sound as pragmatic as I could, “so when you say fire—”
“It was a real fire, Abby.”
“Like...a fire kind of fire?”
“Yes.”
“Little flames and everything?”
His eyes narrowed, glittering dangerously in the dark.
“If you make a joke right now—I will smother you with your own pillow...which SUCKS, by the way.”
No, we wouldn’t want that.
I put on my best professional frown, nodding thoughtfully as I surveyed the strange gelatin smeared all over his face. Then I made just the teensiest joke.
“...I see your fond of strawberries.”
“ABBY—”
“Alright, alright!” I threw out my arms between us like a shield, and backed slowly to the headboards—pulling the cover up around my chest as I went. I may have been lucky enough to be wearing pants, but all I had on top was a thin little baby-doll. The kind you put on specifically for company, if you know what I mean. (Coincidentally, the kind I was only wearing, because it was laundry day.) “Why don’t you just tell me what happened? Start at the beginning.”
He froze with his fingers curled into fists, clearly trying to decide whether to do as I asked or simply strangle me to death with his own hands. I held my breath. But after a second, he seemed to have accepted that he would need me to clean up this one final mess.
He could kill me later.
“Fine.” He sat down where I had been lying just seconds before, making a deliberate show of wringing out his wet sleeves all over my comforter. “We went to the Solay for dinner, just like you arranged. There were a lot of people, a lot of press, and I guess it went as well as could be expected...until we got to dessert.”
Oh good—and the trouble begins.
“Ella wanted to order strawberries foster.”
He said this like it explained everything. I, however, simply paused.
“I’m sorry,” I shook my head, “isn’t it supposed to be bananas foster?”
Nick stifled a weary sigh—he had clearly contemplated that question many, many times already that night. “I think the pastry chef was trying something new...”
An automatic grin rose to my cheeks, and I pursed my lips quickly to hide it.
“Okay, so, strawberries foster...” I prompted.
“You know how they light the bananas one on fire? It was the same concept here.” A delayed shudder rippled through his body. “You can imagine how Ella wanted to try to do that part herself...”
Yes, I certainly could. I also had no trouble imagining what would happen next.
The way she would panic and spray lighter fluid across the table. The way Nick would rise to his feet in horror, slow-motion yelling for her not to strike the match. The way that leaking silicone had long ago deteriorated her brain—so she would do it anyway, throwing it on the crumbling dessert in panic. The way restaurant security would have knocked the whole thing on the ground to smother it—my client included—sending cream and berries flying into the air.
He followed my curious gaze and dismissively guessed my thoughts.
“I obviously didn’t want to stick around and wait for the burn unit, but one of the women sitting next to me happened to be a trauma specialist. She put some gel on my face.”
“Oh!” I leaned back against the headboard once more, both enlightened and relieved. “I actually thought it was some kind of KY—”
“It is.” He forced himself to meet my gaze, before looking deliberately away. “She had it...she had it in her purse.”
It was a testament to how angry Nick was that I didn’t laugh. I may have been literally dying inside, but I held it together. At least for a moment.
“Well thank goodness for that.”
There really wasn’t anything left to say. Between the flaming strawberries and the face full of jelly, it had all pretty much been covered.
Well...not all of it.
“This is New York,” Nick continued in his most dangerous voice, “you learn to expect a certain degree of spontaneity. To factor in for these sorts of things.”
His eyes flashed as they met mine.
“But what I did not expect, something that no one in their right mind could possibly be expected to deal with, was coming home after all of that only to discover that while they were being incinerated at dinner...their demonic publicist had moved Ella Campbell into their house.”
Yeah...that part might have been me. In my defense, I could have had no way of knowing about the strawberries foster. Or the lighter fluid. Or the rest of it.
“Yes,” I said slowly, trying to stall for time, “I could imagine how that might not have been exactly...ideal timing.”
Nick nodded curtly, and waited.
Waited for me to fix it somehow. For me to apologize. For me to give up on this bizarre game that we’d been playing, admit defeat, and let him off the hook.
Instead...
His face screwed up in horror. Then twisted in absolute rage.
“Is that...are you smiling right now?!”
I shook my head quickly, dropping my eyes to the bed and letting my long hair spill in between like a shield. He was in no mood to be toyed with right now, I knew that. Even the famous Nick Hunter had reached his limit for the night.
I smirked. You should have seen him. And on top of it all, he smelled like some kind of misfit s’more...
“No, I’m...” I cleared my throat sharply, trying to get it together, still completely unable to meet his eyes, “I’m just trying to figure out the next step—”
A hand broke through my brunette curtain and lifted up my chin. The next thing I knew, I was staring right into a pair of luminescent blue eyes.
He was much closer than I’d thought he was. Perched on the mattress just a few inches away. Dripping caramel sauce and lighter fluid slowly onto my bedspread.
“You are smiling. I can’t believe it.”
I thought he was going to yell, or curse, or scream. I thought he was going to storm from the apartment and possibly fire me. I thought there might even be a chance that he’d pick up my pillow and press it slowly, vengefully over my face.
Instead...he smiled back.
“Abby Wilder...you are really something, you know that?”
I stared back into those twinkling eyes, at a complete loss as to what to do. A part of me was still baffled that, after over two years of spending every second together, Nick Hunter was sitting my apartment for the first time. Another part was terrified that if he caught a stray spark on the way home, there was a good chance he could go up in flames.
And now he was smiling?
Then, before I could even ask the question, he pushed to his feet and headed for the door.
“Wait a second!” I threw off the covers and hurried after him, wrapping my arms protectively around my thin top as I scampered down the hall. He paused in front of the front door, waiting. “I’m not...after tonight, I mean...I’m not fired?”
His eyes lingered a moment on my quivering curls and tiny pajamas, before coming to rest on my face. We stared a moment. Then his lips curved up into a twinkling smile.
“Why would I fire you?” He stepped into the hall and glanced over his shoulder, tossing me a mischievous wink. “You’re the one who has to make this relationship work.”