Chapter 33
Nicola.
FOUR DAYS LATER.
Aubergine’s father was looking better.
The doctors said once he was able to get around on his own, he would be discharged. For now, though, his body was alarmingly weak.
He wasn’t going back to work anytime soon. And I could see how heavily that weighed on Aubergine. I already told her she wasn’t going back to cleaning, either.
That conversation was coming sooner rather than later. For the time being, though… things between us had been good.
Fucking perfect, actually. So perfect that I hated it had taken us this damned long to get here.
“Oh!” Aubergine bent over and pulled a package of yogurt from a fabric tote bag. “I’m going to ask the nurses if they can put this in the fridge for you, Dad. I’ll be right back.”
We watched her disappear into the hallway. Her father smiled at me.
“It was really nice of you to come visit me.”
I waved a dismissive hand. “You’re family.”
His smile softened. He reached for the remote and muted the television.
“D’you mind if I ask how long this thing between you two has been going on?” he whispered.
Well, he attempted to whisper. The man had absolutely no volume control.
“Almost a month.” With a few... interruptions sprinkled throughout.
“Wow.” He scratched the back of his neck. “Okay. So... still pretty new.”
I leaned forward. “I’m serious about her.”
His smile disappeared completely. “Hey, I’m glad to hear it.”
He hesitated. “It’s just... I mean, I know the kids don’t use the word casanova anymore, but you’ve, uh, got a reputation, Nicky.”
“I know.” I held up a hand before he could continue. “It’s not like that.”
“I don’t want to see her yanked around, is all. She’s been through enough.”
My throat tightened. “I know.”
And I deserved every ounce of his suspicion. Worse yet, he didn’t even know the half of it. That photograph of her tied up still haunted me.
“So," he said carefully. “What exactly are you two?”
“We’re...”
Shit.
Girlfriend sounded juvenile. Lover sounded ridiculous.
... Future wife? Christ.
“We’re partners.”
I smirked inwardly. Good one, Nicola.
He studied me for another second before smiling again.
“Well, if you’re both happy and treat each other right...” He threw a hand up. “Mazel tov.”
Aubergine walked back in and reclaimed her seat on the other side of her father’s bed.
“All stocked up on yogurt again, Dad. You just have to ask.”
“Thanks, Abby.”
She smiled at him, then her eyes met mine. The smile faltered.
I lifted an eyebrow. What was that look?
Her father glanced between us.
“So, everything good between you two?”
“Of course,” I answered automatically.
“Yes,” Aubergine said mildly at the same time.
“...Great.” He cleared his throat when it fell quiet again. “I’ve been watching this gameshow where they have to guess whether something’s made out of cake or a real object. I kept getting every single one wrong.”
He pointed toward the television. “But I think I’m getting better.”
I tried to pay attention. I really did.
Instead, I kept watching Aubergine out of the corner of my eye. She stared straight ahead at the TV, her back rigid, her hands folded in her lap.
Her father cleared his throat again when neither of us spoke up. “...The things they can do with fondant nowadays, huh?”
Fifteen minutes later, a hospital employee stepped into the room with a bright grin.
“Good morning, Mr. Martin! Ready to get cleaned up? Think you can try sitting up today, or are we doing a sponge bath?”
Her father looked at me. “I don’t think you want to stick around for this.”
“That’s okay,” Aubergine and rose. “Nicola has to get to work anyway. But I’ll be back in a little while.”
She kissed his forehead. I stood and gave his hand a firm shake.
“Hopefully next time I see you, it’ll be at home.”
“Let's hope so,” he replied with a grin. “Thanks again for coming by, Nicky.”
Aubergine and I walked quietly down the hallway together. She pressed the elevator button.
My hands slipped into my trouser pockets.
“He’s looking really good.”
“Yeah.” Her voice was distant.
“Abs.”
She didn’t look at me.
“What’s wrong?”
She clicked her tongue. “′Partners?’”
I blinked. “Oh. You heard that?”
“‘Partners,’” she repeated. “What the fuck does that mean?”
“That--” Wait, was this a trick question? “We’re partners?”
The elevator chimed and metallic doors slid open.
“So are we opening a business together?” she asked dryly. The packed elevator stared back at us. "Filing taxes? Forming a LLC?"
“Abby."
She stepped inside the elevator and squeezed herself in. I followed, ending up directly in front of her as the doors closed behind us. Our chests pressed together.
“What are you mad about?” I asked quietly. The entire elevator went silent.
“Why are we partners?” she whispered.
“What’s so bad about that? Gay couples call each other partners.”
She stared at me. “Are we a gay couple?”
“What did you want me to say?” I whispered. ”Boyfriend and girlfriend? We’re not in fucking middle school.”
“So you’re going to introduce me like that from now on? Your good ‘pal’?”
“No. I just thought partnership sounded...” I searched for the right word. “...stronger. More solid.”
Her eyes flattened.
“Partners build things together. Partners don’t leave.”
She sighed, looking at our feet. “...Not with all those chain pizza restaurants we apparently own together.”
A reluctant smile tugged at the corner of my mouth. “Sometimes I feel like you’re looking for something to argue about.”
“I’m not.”
“I’m trying here, Abs.” The words escaped before I could stop them. I scratched the back of my head. “I’m saying it the only way I know how.”
Her eyes lifted to me. The elevator dinged.
Everyone shuffled awkwardly past us to exit.
One curly-haired woman in her thirties lingered. She tapped Aubergine’s shoulder.
“Hey, quick piece of advice.”
Aubergine blinked and turned her head.
“I’m in the dating scene right now. You know, apps, speed-dating, all that? And let me tell you, honey, it’s bleak out here. Really bleak.”
The woman gave me a once-over, then pointed. “He’s a ten in the face department. He's got a nice suit and it sounds like he has a job.”
She shrugged. “So, my advice? Let him say it's a partnership and call it a day.”
Aubergine watched the woman leave with parted lips. She shook her head to herself and exited.
I followed after her. “Abs.”
She paused. “I’m not mad, Nicky.”
She rubbed both hands over her face and drew in a deep breath. “I’m still adjusting to the things you will say, and the things you won’t.”
That stopped me cold. “What does that mean?”
After glancing around the empty waiting area, she stepped closer to me. “Look, things with us have been perfect.” Her hands rested lightly against my chest. ”And you’ve been perfect.”
“Then... what am I missing?”
She exhaled softly through her nostrils then smiled. “Nothing."
Aubergine reached for my tie and slowly wound it around her hand until I leaned down and our mouths met.
“Partners… is nice.” Her forehead rested briefly against mine. “It just caught me off guard."
She pointed towards the hospital lobby. "Go to work. I'll see you tonight."
TWO WEEKS LATER.
We sat side-by-side at the kitchen counter.
Rob didn’t come in before ten, so Aubergine usually cooked breakfast for us. It had become routine-- a routine I was now embarrassingly dependent on.
“My boss emailed me last night,” she said after a sip of juice.
“Yeah?” I asked around a bite of eggs. “About what?”
“He wants me back in the office.”
I frowned. The Ferraros were getting bolder. Merchandise was continuing to disappear.
Lorenzo still wanted revenge, and Aubergine was the easiest target.
“It’s not safe.”
"Nicky...”
“Let him fire you.”
She sat straight. “What?”
“Or quit.” I shrugged like the answer was obvious. “Move in here permanently.”
Her jaw dropped.
“Rent out your apartment. Real estate in Manhattan is ridiculous right now—you’ll make good passive income.” I held up a finger. “And that way, you only have your dad’s medical bills to worry about until he’s healthy again.”
She studied me carefully. “′Permanently?’”
“Yeah.”
“You mean that?” she whispered.
I nodded. “But there’s a few things that are not allowed in the house. That orange shirt, for example.”
She bit back a laugh. “But that’s... a big step, Nicky.”
“You’ve practically lived here before.”
“Those summers were different. We were friends then.” Her voice dropped. “Not... partners.”
I rolled my eyes. It was a good word, damnit!
My hands settled on her shoulders. “Abs. Even if we weren’t in a family war, I’d still ask you to move in. I don’t want to climb three flights of stairs every night.”
She smiled faintly. “That is very inconvenient.”
"And we both know I would just follow you wherever you went.”
The admission slipped out before I could stop it. Her eyes lit up in surprise.
“I also know you’re safest here,” I added quickly, gestured around the house. “It’s practical.”
“Practical,” she echoed softly.
“Yeah. My brothers love you. And Rob loves you.” I frowned. “I’ll have to deal with that later.”
She laughed. “Why would I run off with the chef when the mafia don sweeps me off my feet with declarations like, ‘I don’t want to climb stairs’ and ‘it’s practical’?”
“I don’t pay him well enough to steal you away.” I pointed toward the refrigerator. “You’ve gone through more sparkling water than a restaurant. We may have to negotiate directly with the company to keep up with demand.”
She gasped and narrowed her eyes. “I drank normal water my entire life. And then you came around with your fancy sheets and soap and fucking sparkling water.”
She spread her arms dramatically. “Do you honestly think I can go back to living like a peasant now? Do you think I can’t see the monster I’ve become?”
I lost the battle and started laughing.
Still smiling, she cupped my face. “I love you, Nicola.”
The laughter died out and my chest tightened so much that it almost hurt.
“I would be honored to live with you.” She paused. “But quitting my job… that’s big.”
“I just want your life to be easier," I said quietly.
“It already is.” She smiled softly. “I’m with you.”
She said those things so easily, it just... baffled me. My throat felt clogged.
And I wanted to answer. I really did. Instead, I leaned forward until my forehead rested gently against hers.
“If I don’t work,” she asked quietly. “What would I do?”
I gestured around the house. “Anything you want.”
“Can I join the mob?”
I bit down on my lip, trying to not give her the satisfaction of another laugh. “Alright, maybe not anything."
Her fingers drifted absently through my hair. “Okay. I’ll think about it.”
God, she was stubborn. But little by little, she was letting me take care of her.
Little by little, she was building a life with me.