Stir (The Sizzle TV Series Book 5)

Chapter 16 – Natalie

Finn’s hands fall to his sides. Nic shoves past him, stalking out of the elevator.

“What are you doing here?” asks Finn, clearly discomfited. He runs a hand through his hair, following Nic more slowly.

“I left my phone in the office,” I say, confused. “We must have been in the elevators at the same time. What are you guys doing here?”

“Dropping off files,” says Nic, fishing out a key from his pocket as he walks down the hall. Finn and I line up behind him, heading toward the office like it’s any other day, only it’s past dinnertime on a Friday night. And the way they were standing in the elevator… a curl of heat unwinds in my core. I shut that train of thought right down.

“Right,” I say. “Legal Aid night. But in the elevator, you?—”

I bump straight into Nic, who’s stopped just short of the door. Finn manages not to crush me, but it’s close.

The door is already open, lying askew, its hinges ripped from the wall.

“What. The. Fuck.” Nic says what we’re all thinking as we get a good look at the office we left less than three hours ago.

The room is absolutely wrecked. Books torn from the shelves, dumped everywhere, plenty of them having been thrown across the room. My desk is covered with stuff I didn’t put there, as though someone emptied every single drawer over the top of it. The couch cushions are all over the place, torn and emptied of their stuffing.

Nic makes a beeline for his private office, but Finn gets there first, stopping him with an arm out, pistol already drawn. It startles me at first; somehow, I always forget he’s wearing it.

However bad the outer office is, Nic’s private office is worse.

“Jesus Christ.” Finn looks around and holsters his weapon. “You need to call the police.”

Nic’s already got the phone to his ear. “Rand… Actual break-in this time. Just now… Yep. All present and accounted for… Yep… That’s next. Don’t give me any grief, just do what you can… I appreciate it. I’ll call you when I’ve got more information.”

Noticing Finn’s glare, Nic rolls his eyes. “One thing at a time.”

“Reporting the crime is supposed to be the first thing.”

While Nic talks to the police, Finn brings me back out to my own desk.

“Try not to touch anything until the police get here,” he says. “I know it’s a mess, but do you think anything’s missing?”

“Well, the absence of a computer gives me a hint,” I say dryly. My heart has finally come down out of my throat, and apparently, all that’s left is sarcasm. Which is probably not helpful. I clear my throat. “Sorry. The laptop I use is gone. And I can already tell you the office cash box is missing.”

Finn swears under his breath.

“There hasn’t been anything else from the blackmailer, has there?” I ask. I hate the sudden certainty that I’m out of the loop, but given the state of our office and the tableau I just witnessed in the elevator, something else is definitely going on.

“Not that I know of,” says Finn. He looks me right in the eyes, as though trying to make sure I know he’s telling the truth.

“Anything else you want to tell me?” I ask. A muscle bunches at his jaw. “Because what I saw in the elevator back there looked an awful lot like?—”

Finn takes my hand, holding a finger to his mouth. Then I hear what he must have: Several people getting off the elevator, their voices loud in the otherwise silent corridor.

Finn angles his head toward the door. “That’ll be security, I bet.” He squeezes my hand, then brings it to his mouth, kissing my knuckles, the now-familiar gesture squeezing at my heart. “We’ll talk about it, I promise. But later.”

I swallow down the questions, the fear, the sudden, violent insecurity. Because he’s right; now is definitely not the time. If he’s going to dump me for my male boss, I want to be able to leave right away and not have to sit through police questioning, however long that takes.

That’s what we do when the police arrive a few minutes later. They question us, one at a time. It feels like ages before anybody starts leaving. Finn’s statement is last. While he’s locked in Nic’s office with the remaining police officers, Nic and I begin trying to set the place to rights.

“Finn said you haven’t heard from the blackmailer since that first time. Is that true?” I venture to ask.

He looks so remote, his body still in the room with me but his mind a million miles away. Even answering the question doesn’t bring him back fully.

“It’s true.”

My heart hurts for him.

“You don’t deserve this,” I say. “I’m so sorry, Nic.”

He glances at me, a little surprised, and gives me the slightest smile. “Thank you, Natalie, but you don’t have to say that.”

“I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it.”

He blinks. I think, for a second, he’s back in the room with me. “That’s true, too.” The smile he gives me this time is sadder than any expression I’ve ever seen on his face, and before I think twice, I stretch out a hand, cupping his cheek.

Nic goes stock-still, his handsome face unmoving, not even breathing. I’ve crossed a line. I think this may be the first time we’ve touched, except the day he shook my hand as he hired me.

“Natalie,” he says, almost inaudibly. He shudders.

“Nic?” I take a step closer because I don’t know what’s going on, but I don’t want him hurting. If ever there was a time to hug somebody, this is it, but he’s not just somebody, he’s my boss. I don’t know if this is a line I can cross. Not now that I can see it coming. Not now that I know what it might cost.

“Don’t.” Nic’s eyes widen.

“Are you—?” Does this mean what I think it means? Oh my God.

“Natalie.” His voice is torn. There’s so much emotion in his eyes I can barely stand to look straight at him. With my hand still on his cheek, I can feel him trembling.

There’s more here, more than I ever thought possible. It’s as though I’m seeing him, truly, for the first time.

“I swore I’d never let this happen. I was never going to touch you.”

I shake my head, though what I’m denying I couldn’t say. He turns his face into my palm, his eyes sliding closed again like he needs it, like a drowning man breathing air again for the first time.

“Nic, you have to talk to me. Tell me what’s wrong.”

He makes a quiet, pained sound, then takes a deep breath and a big step back, out of my reach.

“What—”

“I swore I’d never touch you.”

“You haven’t.”

The heat in his eyes when his gaze comes back to mine is a shock, skittering across my skin like a caress.

“You mean, you wanted to touch me?” I say. It’s only barely a question. “I don’t understand. I’ve been here for a year. You hardly look at me. You’ve never once said anything?—”

“What would I say?” His laugh is short, low, ugly, and utterly without humor. “You’ve met my father.”

My stomach tightens. “You’re not him.”

“No, I’m not, nor will I be. I refuse to become him,” he says. “Everything he said to you that day, I’ve heard him say to his own employees at one time or another. First, a secretary. Then, a couple of his personal assistants. A few of the first female department heads, even, before I learned to stay away. He’s been coming on to nearly every woman who comes through his office for years. Decades, from what I hear. I won’t do it. I will not be that man.”

He takes another deep breath, turning his back to me, facing the bookcases we’ve almost finished restocking.

“I’m sorry for being inappropriate just now. You have my word; it won’t happen again, but I’ll understand if I’ve made you uncomfortable. You can absolutely count on me as a reference, if you choose to?—”

His words choke off when I slide my arms around his waist and hug him from behind.

“All this time, I thought it was just me,” I whisper to his back. It’s easier to get the words out if he’s not looking at me.

He stiffens, frozen again for the single longest moment of my life. Then his hands come up to cover mine, gripping them in place.

“What about Finn?” he asks. His tone says “Back Off” in big bright letters, but I’m onto him this time; he’s trembling again, his hands holding mine tightly.

My face is pressed to his back, both seeking his warmth and shoring him up, but unable to show my face when I say the words out loud, giving him nothing but the truth.

“God help me, I want him, too.”

I’ve never wanted anything the way I want these men. The way I want them is different, distinct from each other, but so familiar it’s as though the idea has always been there, as though we were only ever all three of us headed to this moment.

Nic pulls free. I let my arms drop.

The office door opens. The police officers say good night, letting Nic know someone will be up shortly to help seal the door for the night. Once again, it’s the three of us alone.

A man shows up only a moment later with some plywood to prop up until the replacement door is delivered tomorrow. I stay busy—God knows there’s plenty to do—while Nic and Finn help him set it up.

The last two hours have put my life into dramatic perspective. The break-in scares me… of course it does. I know we weren’t in particular danger; whoever did this waited until the office was empty to take whatever they could find. Petty cash and my laptop, the latter of which would be easy to pawn or sell for more cash. But even with the weird, indecent, overexposed feeling it left behind, I realize we aren’t in physical danger.

But I also know that whoever’s behind this is escalating. I’ve heard enough true crime stories to know that’s bad.

I’m approaching a crossroads, and the direction I choose tonight is going to change the course of my life, one way or another.

I’ve never been attracted to two people at the same time before, unless you count Eric Northman and Bill Compton. Never in real life. Certainly never two people who were often in the same room as me. And I’ve never had feelings like this for somebody who I’ve trusted with my body like I have with Finn or to whom I’ve given most of my waking hours for a year, like Nic. I can’t even count the number of ways this could go very, very badly.

But what if it doesn’t?

Nic and Finn say goodbye to the door guy. I’ve managed to clear most of the papers off the floor, all of which will have to be sorted and filed some other time, because I’m too keyed up to focus on anything but the men in front of me. They’ve fallen silent, picking up stuff, making piles like mine.

“Let’s leave it. We’ll deal with all this Monday,” says Nic. His voice is rough.

“I don’t know about you two, but I could use a drink,” says Finn. That gets a big nod from me. Nic looks tense, his jaw bunching. He doesn’t say anything.

Crossroads.

I move slowly next to Nic and slide my hand into the crook of his arm.

“You too, Nic.”

Nic looks down at my hand. I look Finn straight in the eye.

He looks down at my hand, too, wrapped around Nic’s arm. Brings his gaze back to mine. His eyes widen slightly. He nods slowly.

“You heard the lady,” says Finn. “You’re with us, boss.”

The car ride is quiet and mercifully short at this hour. Plenty of people are out in the city for a fun Friday night, but they’re all walking, enjoying the warmest weather we’ve had yet this month. I follow Nic up the stairs when we arrive at their apartment building, feeling Finn’s eyes on my back all the while. Awareness prickles my skin, and as we reach the landing for their floor, there’s that word again.

Crossroads.

Nic stops in front of his door, Finn and me right behind him. Nic doesn’t turn to look.

“You going to invite us in, boss?”

Finn’s question puts a kink in the air—a twinge, an edge of something I can’t quite put my finger on. Nic stiffens, unlocking the door and pushing inside. I think I’ve been wrong—there’s no way this is headed where I thought it was—and the door starts closing.

Nic stops it with one hand, holding it open for us as he steps to one side.

Finn looks at me questioningly. I twine my shaking fingers through his, and we follow Nic into the apartment.

I’ve been here before, of course. The day I couldn’t find Cat, when I met Finn during the search. Before that, too, back when I still wondered if my boss was really an emotionless cyborg or possibly just a regular old robot. Whatever I thought then, I was wrong. Nic looks so tightly wound; I’m afraid he might break if I touch him.

He crosses the room, pulls down glasses, and pours some liquor slowly. Brings the drinks to us in the living area.

“What a night,” says Finn. He sits beside me on the couch, too close for casual company.

“You can say that again,” says Nic.

He chooses the leather chair off to our right. Tonight is the most unbuttoned I’ve ever seen him the whole time I’ve known him, and my heart beats a bit faster. He’d shucked his coat and rolled up his shirt sleeves while we were cleaning up, but sitting here, drink in hand, his tie and suspenders make him look dangerous. Like a 1930s gangster. Which is so unlike the Nic Pendergrass I know, it’s like looking at a stranger.

His cheeks are flushed, and I wonder what he’s thinking about. Finn’s big, rough hand covers my knee, and it stirs me up enough to ask the question I’ve been dying to ask all night.

“What happened in the elevator?”

Finn goes still beside me. Nic appears to stop breathing altogether.

He sits up, downs the rest of his drink, and sets the glass on the coffee table with a crack.

“I kissed Finn.”

My jaw drops.

“But… you were… you…” Even though I had suspected, even though I’d fantasized about it, I’m shocked at his words.

“Technically, he kissed me before we got on the elevator. What you saw was me about to kiss him,” says Finn, tension threading through every word.

“I thought you were going to punch me,” says Nic.

“It was a toss-up.”

I lean forward slowly, setting my own glass down gently. Nic watches my every move, tabulating my reaction, working out how much damage control needs to be done. I know he thinks I’m about to get up and leave.

He’s only half right.

They both stand up when I do.

“Natalie—”

I hold up one hand when Finn starts to explain. He’s panicking, thinking the same as Nic. I’m not going anywhere. Instead, I’m about to do the thing that scares me more than anything—more than break-ins, blackmail, even more than regaining all the weight that I worked so hard to lose.

More.

Reaching for the buttons on this soft, stupidly expensive silk blouse, I pop them open one by one.