Seven
“Hell, there are no rules here—we’re trying to accomplish something.”
~Thomas A. Edison
“I’m going to Budapest. My flight leaves on Saturday at four a.m. and I’ll need a car to the airport and some meetings scheduled for Sunday night. Can you arrange that, Hunter?”
The meeting squealed to a halt as Jet, Asher, and Hunter all frowned at him. “Budapest?” Asher asked, brow knit in confusion.
“You’re going to Hungary?” Hunter wore a look of equal misunderstanding. “Why?”
“We haven’t touched base with some of our shareholders in a while and I think we’re overdue.”
“So shoot them an email,” Jet suggested. “That’s a long ass flight. If we go anywhere it should be to Hong Kong. I thought we were scheduling China this quarter.”
Elliot shook his head. “No. We can do Hong Kong, too, but Budapest is happening. I’ve already booked the flights.”
“When?” Asher continued to scowl. “I thought you were sick yesterday.”
“I just took the day off. I booked the flight this morning.”
Easing back in his chair, Asher adjusted his glasses. “How long are you staying? Scarlet only has one week left before school starts, so I can’t go. And we won’t be able to schedule much on such short notice. Sunday’s out of the question. We could probably swing Tuesday at the earliest.”
“My return flight isn’t until Wednesday night. Tuesday works.” He’d just have to occupy himself other ways until then.
“A little notice would have been nice,” Hunter grumbled. “If you’re planning on sitting down with Zen, maybe I’ll go.”
“You can’t go.”
“Why not?”
“Because no one else can go. You’re all busy.”
Asher leaned forward, looking him square in the eye. “What the hell’s going on, Elliot?”
“Nothing. I’m taking a trip and it has to be a business trip—a solo one.”
“We don’t do solo,” Jet pointed out, now frowning like the rest of them. “Are you negotiating a deal we don’t know about?”
“No, I…” Shit. This was why he hated lies. “I’m traveling with someone.”
“Who?” The three of them asked at once.
Say Mom. He buttoned up.
Hunter tossed the file he was holding on the conference table. “I’m not booking shit until you tell us what’s going on.”
The three of them glared at him. He adjusted his tie. “Forget it. I’ll arrange everything myself. Just be informed I won’t be here next week.”
Standing, he collected his laptop and the files he was working on and escaped to his office. Within an hour he had a car arranged and Martha busy packing his suits. They were leaving in two days.
The guys continued to send him shady looks every time they crossed paths. When it came time for lunch he was anxious to heat up the leftover soup Nadia had packed. He wasn’t sure what her secret ingredient was, but he was absolutely addicted to her cooking—sans the tea.
As he waited by the microwave, the guys unloaded orders from the restaurant downstairs onto the table. “Why’d you brown bag it today?” Jet asked.
“I had some soup left over from yesterday.” Elliot carefully carried the bowl to the table and dug in his bag for a napkin and spoon.
“That smells good. Where’s it from?” Hunter asked, hovering over his lunch.
“Back off,” Elliot snapped, not willing to share even the scent of the magical mix.
Hunter rolled his eyes and plopped into his seat, unwrapping a long sub. The first bite of soup was hot and savory, reaching his belly on the tails of a sigh. The guys were quiet, likely still pissed about his private business trip, but they’d get over it.
Reaching for his napkin, he jerked back as Jet suddenly snatched it out of his fingers. “What the hell is this?”
Elliot’s eyes widened as Jet flashed the backside of the napkin, displaying a scribbled heart and the words Have a good day! His face heated as he snatched the napkin back and stuffed it on his lap. All eyes on him.
“Did Martha pack your lunch?” Asher asked, a concerned, almost aghast, twist to his brows.
“I’d like to eat without an inquisition,” he mumbled, taking another bite.
Hunter’s nose wrinkled. “Martha? She’s in her seventies, man. What’s going on in that house of yours?”
Jet shrugged, taking a bite of a sandwich that barely fit in his mouth. “Martha’s okay,” he mumbled. “Nice round ass.”
Elliot curled his lip, not wanting to think of his elderly housekeeper’s ass while eating. “Do you mind?”
“Not at all,” Jet answered and laughed. “How long you been diddling the maid?”
He dropped his spoon. “I’m not doing anything with my maid. Knock it off. You’re ruining my appetite.”
Asher’s knowing stare weighed heavily on Elliot as he retrieved his spoon. He’d be the hardest of the three to deceive. First, because he’d recently fallen in love and likely knew the symptoms, and two, because he knew Elliot the longest.
Wait. What?
His brain backtracked. First of all, he was not in love. That was a slip. Pure, unconscious laziness on his part. What he felt for Nadia was affection, lust. His baser instincts longing for something he’d never experienced before.
There was no love in the equation. He liked her, yes, but that wasn’t love.
Love was serious, and their situation was more circumstantial than anything else.
Whatever happened yesterday morning didn’t happen again, so clearly they were not involved in any sort of romantic arrangement.
It was a fluke. A hot, erotic, freak accident that would probably never happen again.
“What’s wrong, Elliot? You’re all flushed.”
Jet snickered. “He’s probably picturing Martha naked.”
Narrowing his eyes at Jet, he grit his teeth. “Shut up.” Taking the last bite of his lunch, he bagged up his Tupperware and pushed away from the table. “I’ll be in my office if anyone’s looking for me.”
“If Martha calls we’ll put her right through,” Hunter called and they all laughed.
Assholes.
Once he was at his desk he texted Nadia. She was helping her mother pack today and had a class tonight. When he’d left for work she was still sleeping and he didn’t want to disturb her.
How’s your day going? I checked the schedule and we’re leaving Saturday—early in the a.m. A car will deliver us to the airport.
Hitting send he waited to see if she’d respond right away, grinning like an idiot when he saw the bubbles indicating she was typing. His phone buzzed.
My day is good. How was your soup? Don’t push yourself too hard after being sick.
Again came the guilt of making her believe he was ill when he was perfectly fine. He should confess but after letting her tend to him all day he felt like a total jerk for taking advantage of her kindness. He’d just have to suffer the guilt.
Soup was delicious and I feel great.
His phone vibrated.
I’d hate to do this but I have a favor to ask…
Typing back he asked what she needed, liking the idea of coming to her aid when she needed rescuing. His phone buzzed as her reply came through.
I hate having to ask this, but would you be able to drive my mother to the airport tonight? I have to teach a class and I’m worried I won’t get her there in time to get through all the security checks. So sorry to put that on you.
He sat back in his chair. She wanted him to take her mother to the airport? Alone?
He supposed he could manage that, but from what Nadia told him, her mother didn’t speak a lick of English.
There was a knock at his door and he looked up as Asher stepped in. “Hey. You got a minute?”
“Sure.” He casually flipped over his phone so the screen didn’t show. “What’s up?”
Asher lowered himself into a chair and leveled him with a stare. “What’s going on, Elliot? If you’re arranging something with our shareholders I need to know.”
He sighed. “I’m not doing anything like that. Come on, Asher. I just told you I need meetings scheduled. I have nothing prepared for this trip.”
“Then why go? What’s in Budapest?”
His phone buzzed. “Hold on. I need to check this text.”
I’m sorry. That was a lot to ask after you’ve already done so much. Don’t worry about it. I’ll call a cab company. Enjoy the rest of your day.
“Shit.”
“What is it?” Asher asked, frowning.
“Nothing.”
He quickly responded, telling her it wasn’t a problem at all and that he was in a meeting and would get back to her in a few minutes. When he placed his phone back on the desk it buzzed again, but he resisted the urge to look at it with Asher there.
His friend appeared very distracted as the buzzing continued every few seconds. Elliot ignored it.
“I’m sorry. You were saying?”
“Aren’t you going to get that?”
“It’s fine. I’ll deal with it later.” The phone buzzed again.
Asher’s eyes narrowed behind the lenses of his glasses. “What exactly is happening here, Elliot? You have hearts on your napkin, you’re planning a sudden trip out of the country, and you’re texting. You never text.”
“I text.”
“With who? Your mom? She calls you.” Asher shook his head, glancing away for a brief moment. “Are you seeing someone?”
He tugged at his tie. “No.”
“Who drew on your napkin?”
“Look, Asher, I know you have certain things figured out now that you’re married and a father, but I’d appreciate it if you didn’t make my life another case study of yours. My private life is private.”
His friend drew back, appearing genuinely affronted. “Why won’t you tell me what’s going on?”
“There’s nothing to tell.”
“Who’s going to Budapest with you?”
The phone buzzed again. Girls had so much to say and he wasn’t used to that. “If I tell you you’ll make a big deal out of it and it’s not a big deal.”
“Then why keep it a secret?”
God, this was tedious. “Fine. It’s Nadia—”
“Nadia? The dancer?”
“Yes. Her aunt’s dying. This is her last chance to say goodbye.”
“Wait.” He shook his head, a baffled expression on his face. “Nadia, Nadia? My dance instructor, Nadia? How do you know all this? You met her once.”
“Twice. I also saw her at your wedding.”
Asher rolled his eyes. “Have you ever actually talked to her?”
Elliot pursed his lips. “As a matter of fact, yes, I have. I ran into her at a restaurant Tuesday night. We stopped to grab a drink afterward.”