Page 71 of Postmarked December

Nick

Nick’s signature blurred in front of her—a final blow to her delicate heart. While she wanted nothing to do with this fancy dinner, she’d have to endure it to hear Nick out.

She’d never been to Marrow and Flame before. In the early years, it had been out of their price range, and by the time they had enough money, Toby was too well-known to feel comfortable going there. They wouldn’t have had a moment’s peace to eat.

Not sure what she was going to do with the rest of her day, she began with breakfast. With all the food from the cabin that Marion had brought over, she had plenty of options. She settled on chocolate chip pancakes, scrambled eggs, and mixed fruit.

As she cracked eggs into a bowl, she sifted through this holiday’s events. While nothing had turned out as she thought, in a strange way, more aware now, she could finally see things more clearly. She’d face Nick head-on without the need to crumble. Whatever he had to say tonight, she was ready.

She finished making breakfast, and instead of the day dragging on, she used the time to her advantage. She found the key for the storage unit, so she could go through it in the New Year, and she pulled all Toby’s contracts and read through them, highlighting term dates and contract percentages. She’d even scoured their bank account and listed Toby’s favorite charities so she could continue giving to them on a yearly basis. By lunch, she’d made a list of things she wanted to get done by the end of the holiday. If anything, she’d distract herself from the outside world for the foreseeable future.

Chapter Thirty-One

Heather zipped up the beaded red dress that fit her like a glove and slipped on her heels. She’d curled her hair and pinned it into an elegant updo. Her ruby teardrop earrings, that she’d always wanted to wear but complained to Toby that she never had an occasion, were a perfect match. If only he could see them.

While getting ready for her night out, she’d fought a looming dread. It had taken her a while to define it, and when she finally did, she didn’t feel any better. Deep down, she didn’t want to see Nick because that adoring look in his eyes hadn’t been real. It had made her feel whole, and she was afraid to see it again.

But she’d promised herself that, no matter what, she would not allow his charm to sway her. She was going to dinner tonight for two reasons only: to find out why he’d betrayed her and to hopefully stop any further projects.

She tucked her pepper spray and her lipstick into the cream-colored clutch she’d carried at the last publisher’s party and slipped on her cream faux-fur coat to stay warm in the icy winter air. Then she checked the clock.

It was time.

When she got to the bottom of her apartment building, she swallowed. Through the glass window, the white Suburban was idling out front. Her heart pattered with nerves as she went outside.

Nick jumped out, ran around the SUV, and opened her door. He was clean-shaven and wearing a tuxedo that would take her breath away if she hadn’t already known what he was capable of.

“Wow,” he said, seemingly breathless as he looked at her.

She wasn’t going to allow him to sway her with his flattery. Silently, she hiked up her dress just enough to climb in, placed the clutch in her lap, and fastened her seat belt. The SUV was clean, the leather smooth and soft to the touch.

He shut the door, ran back around to his side, and got in. As he pulled away from the curb and drove down the street, the windshield wipers moved every so often to push the light snow out of view. His spicy cologne wafted toward her, making her shiver even in her fur coat.

Being in the car with him made her feel as if she were seeing the back side of a tapestry—the knotted jumble of stitches. Before now, she’d only seen the beauty—the kind smile, the shared chuckles, the long chats over cider. But now she was in the vehicle she’d chased with Marion, the one she’d probably passed on her way to the cabin, and his secrets had been revealed.

Along the route, they passed a chain bookstore. She purposely didn’t look at the lit window for fear she might see Toby’s name on a display of books. She peered down at her clutch instead.

“How was your day?” he asked, glancing over.

“Fine.” She wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of chitchat.

“You know, this has all been hard on me too,” he said. “But I’m not going to say anything else until I can look at you, eye to eye.”

Hard on him. Hmph. How dare he play the victim? This entire fiasco was his doing. She didn’t respond. She just sat, stewing in the fact that he wasn’t the guy she thought he was.

They continued in silence for the rest of the ride. Nick pulled up to the restaurant and handed his keys to the valet. Then, while the attendant opened the door for her, Nick reached into the backseat and pulled out a gift bag with tissue paper and curling ribbon. She didn’t even want to think about what could be in that bag. They went into the restaurant.

Inside, they checked their coats. Well-dressed diners walked past them in unhurried waves, their voices soft to match the room’s elegance, while servers moved smoothly between tables, adjusting place settings and offering quiet greetings. There was a buzz of celebration in the air, but Heather had little to celebrate tonight. She felt out of place.

As the host led them to their seats, Heather took in how the low amber lighting reflected off polished wood and crisp white tablecloths. The scent of searing meats, seafood, and buttered herbs lingered in the air, and jazz floated above the steady murmur of conversation.

Heather sat down, and once she was settled, Nick placed the bag on the floor beside his chair and sat across from her. The host filled their water glasses from a linen-wrapped bottle, then placed a narrow wood-backed drinks menu on each of their plates and left them to look it over as a candle flickered between them.

It was quite an odd atmosphere for a discreet confrontation, but there they were.

“What looks good to you?” Nick asked over his menu, his gaze lingering on her a little too long.

Does it matter? “I’m not sure,” she said. She didn’t know how to be cordial with the person who was actively ruining her holiday.