Page 80 of Everything She Wanted

He gets up slowly and leans against a tree. I follow him and he pulls me toward him and holds me close and I surrender to this moment. I can’t help it.

He holds my hand and kisses it, then he kisses the inside of my wrist, then the top of my head as I sink deeper into him. He’s my shield and I want him to protect me from everything. Because as soon as I leave here, I’ll have to face everything out there that I don’t want to.

We stay like this as the symphony ends and until long after everyone leaves. Until it’s just us and the sound of the waves in the distance.

It’s dark and chilly, but with him, I’ve never felt warmer.

Tomorrow I will deal with reality, but tonight I’ll let myself have this.

26. The Fall

I have to at least try to be professional. It doesn’t really matter that we are already at another conference in Seattle, and it’s just us. Nick knows about Eshaan, and Eshaan knows about Nick. Shaan barely talks to me, and it makes my unease grow with every passing day, but I know he will come around eventually. I didn’t tell him I was away with Nick. I can’t, not now.

The day has been a blur of sessions, meetings, and networking opportunities, and it seems like my bad luck is seeping into work too. One investor has already said no, and another—Charles—said he’s on the fence, after questioning us like he’s some kind of detective. I should have spent more time preparing instead of getting wrapped up in the drama of my life. His rapid-fire questions about potential competitors and staying relevant in a growing market are on repeat in my head as I sit in the hotel lounge, working on my third drink. Even Nick, who has way more experience than I do, was frazzled by Charles.

I swirl my drink, realizing I have to get it together, otherwise I’ll be at risk of losing more than my relationship.

“Hey.”

I look up to see Nick looking over at me. “We’ll get them next time.”

“I don’t know if there will be a next time,” I say, not even bothering to hide my disappointment. “At least for me.”

He sits down across from me. “These things happen, and trust me, it’s more common for investors to say no than to say yes.” He gives me a reassuring smile, but I can’t even force myself to fake optimism.

He places his hand over mine.

“Tell you what, why don’t we debrief while it’s still fresh, and that way we’ll be ready to field everyone’s questions when we get back to the office tomorrow?”

I know he’s right, even though all I want to do is drown in a pool of gin. “Okay.”

He gets up. “I’ll see if I can find a meeting room for us. I’ll text you with the details.” He doesn’t find a meeting room for us though, and that’s how we end up in his room. The last place I should be.

27. Smooth Operator

I glance around the office supply closet, my pulse slowing, and my breathing returning to normal after a frantic day full of endless emails, back-to-back meetings, and urgent requests. Eshaan’s finally no longer mad at me, which is a relief, but that ongoing stress, along with the usual grind, has been way too much. So here I am, in my calming place. The shelves are neatly lined with notebooks, pens, pencils, and Post-its. I browse through the stash for any new arrivals I can add to my office, much like a chef searching for the finest ingredients in a gourmet kitchen.

A smile spreads across my face when I think about how, when I was a little girl, I’d obsessively pick out the best stationery from the big-box office supply store each summer and arrange everything meticulously on my desk once I was back in school. Organizing always calmed my frayed nerves no matter what was going on at home. It has the same effect now.

I settle on a slick new gel pen that conforms to my thumb and index finger like it was made just for me. I step back to see if there’s anything else I want to add, when I hear voices in the distance, coming closer and eventually stopping outside the closet door. I don’t recognize the first voice.

“I can’t believe you get to work with her every day. I wouldn’t be able to get anything done at all.”

I quickly realize that whoever’s outside doesn’t know I’m here. I think about using the printer to make my presence known, but I hesitate, my interest piqued by who this stranger is talking about. I love juicy office gossip as much as anyone. Just then, I hear Nick’s voice.

“Who are we talking about?” he asks casually.

“That babe whose office is right next to yours.”

The only office next to Nick’s is mine, but this guy must be thinking about someone else. Even still, my heart starts beating erratically.

“Long dark brown hair, sexy pouty lips, body like fire in a fitted blazer.”

Shit. Is he talking about me? He can’t be. I’ve never heard anyone describe me like that.

“Oh, Nisha?”

My heart skips a beat.