Been There Done That (Leffersbee #1) - Hope Ellis Page 0,46

mine. The skin of his palms was rough and callused as if he did manual labor for a living instead of working behind a desk. His oversized hand remained slack and passive for a moment, then tightened around mine.

“I’m sorry, Nick.”

“It’s okay. There absolutely no reason to be sorry. You didn’t know.”

“Still . . .” I was mortified to feel my nose stinging. Wetness sprang to my eyes. I swiped at a descending tear. “I apologize for this. I’m sorry.”

His grip on mine tightened. His free hand covered mine, sandwiching it. “Why are you sorry?”

I brushed another tear from my cheek. I hated displays of emotion, especially my own. “I just . . .”

“You loved her.” His voice was rough. “I know you did. And she loved you, too.”

I wanted to ask what happened, but was that appropriate? It would have been years ago, before all the time and distance set in, but now? Probably not.

“It wasn’t the drugs. Well, it was and it wasn’t. We got her in rehab and it took two tries, but she kicked it. And for many years, I had my mother back again. But in the end, we couldn’t escape the consequences of years of drug use. And she died from hepatitis.”

I squeezed his hand fiercely, devastated by the grief I saw in his eyes. “I’m so sorry, Nick.”

“My entire world changed when she died,” he continued distractedly, his eyes growing unfocused. “The cruelest irony was that all I’d ever wanted was to be able to take care of her. To have the means to take away her worries and keep her safe. To be in control of whatever troubles came our way. And when I’d finally done it, when I’d finally made it, all that money, all that influence meant nothing. There was absolutely nothing I could do to save her.”

I swiped at another tear.

He released my hand to lean across the table. His features softened as his gaze moved over my face. The sandpaper surface of his thumb slowly wiped at the wetness under my eyes.

“It’s okay, Zora,” he said, and again I had the feeling that he was answering a question I hadn’t asked. It felt as if we were having the same conversation, but on different channels with unresolved shades of meaning.

The waiter returned then.

Nick leaned back, his eyes still intent on my face. I was loathe to release his hand. Too much time had passed for me to share with the same transparency that I had at one time. But I wanted him to feel how badly I hurt for him, for his loss, and for his mother and all that she had been.

Even if all I could offer was a touch.

We ordered and ate dinner quietly, our discussion limited to the upcoming project. His disclosure about his mother left the air heavy and bruised, and neither of us attempted to disrupt that mood with levity or distractions. It was a shared communion of sorts, between two people who had loved the same women fiercely, albeit in very different ways.

When we departed outside the restaurant, Nick handed me up into the fancy Uber while instructing the driver to be careful with me, and I’d felt a shift.

Regardless of whatever had transpired between us all those years ago, there had been a part of me that always loved Nick very much. Though long dormant, it came alive briefly yet again to remind me who Nick had been and the struggles he’d endured. How he’d prospered in spite of it all. Looking into his handsome face, seeing the tired set of his shoulders before he closed the vehicle’s door, I’d reminded myself to be angry with him.

I couldn’t trust him, not ever again.

Even if I wanted to.

Chapter Eleven

Nick

My phone rang just as I’d crossed the threshold of our building’s lobby. I’d made it as far as the elevator bank when I recognized the customized vibration. My aunt was one of the few people in the world I’d always answer for, no matter what.

I stepped away from the elevators and strode to a quiet corner of the foyer where I could take the call with reasonable privacy. While accepting the call, I frowned at the time on my wrist. Hopefully this would be short.

“Hey, Aunt Nan.”

“Don’t ‘hey, Aunt Nan’ me, you little shit. Emily said you were in Green Valley. Is that true?”

I groaned as I set my bag on the marble floor at my feet. This would not be short, and