Chapter 12
NOVA
I check my watch for the third time as I shift in the chair outside James Parker’s office.
“It’s a busy day,” the woman at the desk says semi-apologetically.
She picks up her phone and punches a contact.
“Yes, sir. Nova’s here.” Her gaze flicks to mine.
“Yes, of course.” Her finger punches a button—mute, probably, from the way she addresses me at full volume.
“He sends his apologies but says it would be best if you continued working on the wall.”
“I’m afraid I can’t move forward until we talk.”
Her lips purse, and she presses the button again. Before she can answer, the door swings open and the owner’s head appears.
“Nova. Please come in.”
The one and only time I negotiated for my salary at the design firm, they turned me down, citing budget issues. But it left me feeling as if I didn’t matter, as if my work didn’t matter.
The first week here, I was so worried about messing up that it never occurred to me I wasn’t getting my share.
Talking with Clay helped me see how I can advocate for myself, in a way that’s fair and reasonable, even in unfamiliar territory.
He holds the door wide, and I follow him inside.
“Would you like a chair?”
“No, thank you.” I produce the sketchpad.
Last night after getting back from Clay’s, Brooke found me scouring the internet for public rates for commissioned works. When I told her what I was doing, she was immediately supportive.
“Get yours, Nova. You’re insanely talented, and you should know your worth.”
Now, I watch James take in the sketch.
“What is this?”
“The expanded scope of the wall. You said the board liked the direction with the skyline, but it will be more meaningful to have different levels of connection. The buildings represent Denver, but the players represent basketball, the faces are this team. Your team.”
“In that case, I’m impressed. And I approve.” He passes the sketchpad back, and I take it.
“I didn’t come only for your approval. You offered me twenty thousand for this project. I want twenty more, plus a cut of merchandise.”
His brows lift, as do the corners of his mouth. Amused isn’t the reaction I was going for, and I grip the edges of my sketchpad tighter, ignoring the urge to tug on my skirt like a school kid in the principal’s office.
He rounds the desk, shifting a hip onto the corner, his eyes never leaving mine. “Did you ever take economics, Nova?”
“Yes.”
Half a course in community college that I slept through because I was working during the days too.
“Then you know that a person’s worth doesn’t have anything to do with what they create. It’s about the market value. What they can command elsewhere.”
I don’t like where this is going.
“Is there a competing offer on your time?” he goes on. “From another employer or patron perhaps?”
He’s boxing me into a corner without moving a muscle.
Clay and the other players do their work with their bodies, sleek chess pieces moving around a hardwood board. This man does it with his mind.
I shake my head slowly.
“Then you’ll understand why I’m not looking to renegotiate. Besides,” he goes on, straightening his tie, “this is good exposure for you. You should be grateful for the project.”
“I am grateful, but…”
“Yes?”
My mind spins. “Competing offers work both ways.”
He frowns, cocking his head.
I continue. “If I don’t finish this, you need to find someone else who will. Can you honestly tell me there’s another artist who can work in your timeline and deliver this degree of execution?”
His eyes narrow. “There are always motivated people.”
I glance back toward the entrance, the heavy wood. “Did you pick that door?”
“I did. Cherry, imported from quite a distance. Appearances matter.”
“How many people come through that door every day? Ten? Twenty?” I lift a shoulder.
“That’s only for the door of your office.
This will be the front door of your organization.
Twenty thousand people every night.” His eyes glint, and I know I’ve hooked him.
“If you’re questioning whether it’s worth it, believe me, it is.
Everyone who sees it will understand that you and this team are for real.
That after ten years, you’re not fading—you’re just getting warmed up. ”
He turns it over. “What cut of merchandise?”
I square my shoulders. “Twenty percent.”
“Five.”
“Twelve.”
He turns it over. “Fine. Have the revised contract to my assistant before I change my mind.”
I turn toward the door, hiding my grin until I have a hand on the cherry wood, when his voice reaches me.
“And Nova?”
“Yes?” I glance back to find him studying me as though he’s never seen me before.
“This wall better be fucking spectacular.”
CLAY
Nova: I did it.
The message comes when I’m getting off the plane after the road game.
It was a win, which puts everyone in a good mood.
But Nova’s words are what make me smile.
Clay: Yeah you did.
The next day, I go in for a meeting with the coaches to watch game tape. On the way out of the meeting, I head by her wall and find her there.
She’s wearing leggings and a long-sleeved shirt that rises up her back when she stretches, her hair pulled back in a pink ponytail.
The feeling washing over me isn’t only desire, but pride. I’m fucking proud of her and I want to tell her.
“What are you painting now?” Jay asks.
She pulls off her headphones. “The team. Miles, Rookie, Atlas, Clay, you.”
He folds his arms. “You’re gonna make me bigger, right?”
“You’re already three times life size,” I drawl.
Rookie dissolves into laughter, and Jay hits me in the arm. He still clears six feet, but he’s the shortest of all of us.
“We should celebrate,” I say, and her eyes warm on mine.
“Yeah, it was a good win.” Miles thinks I’m talking about that.
“I think I’m going to go home. Maybe take a bath.” She stretches, her eyes closing as her hands lift overhead.
“I could give you a massage,” Miles offers.
She laughs. “That’s a great offer. Raincheck.”
“We’re going to Mile High,” Rookie says.
Nova’s gaze goes to me, as if she’s gauging my reaction.
I look between the guys. “I’m gonna pass.”
Rookie’s got my back, and with only a little needling, they continue without me.
“Your game was good,” she says when it’s the two of us alone in the massive hallway.
“Not as good as yours. What’d you get?”
“Twelve percent.” Her face screws up. “I asked for twenty. He countered at five.”
“That’s my girl.” The words are out before I think, but her eyes brighten. “Let me drive you home,” I say.
She collects her jacket, and we head for the parking garage side by side.
As we get into the car, I clear my throat, preparing to say what I practiced on the plane.
“I know you said you needed time to think, but I’ve been thinking too. The night of the wedding, there were a few things going on.”
She straightens in her seat but doesn’t look at me.
“But the most important one was that I cared about you, and instead of seeing that through, I panicked.”
“I forgive you.”
“You do?” I echo, wary.
“Yes. We can be friends.”
Her words are like an axe to my damned chest as I pull into the parking garage and into my spot. “I don’t want to be your friend.”
She leans an elbow against the window frame and peers back at me, smiling. “You want me to text you naked pics?”
The fuck is she playing at?
I’ll go along with it for now. “Yeah. That’d be good.”
“Okay, then.”
I cut the engine and lean my head back against the seat as she lets her words sink in.
“There’s obviously still a connection between us,” Nova goes on while I’m still speechless. “If we focus on the physical, I think it would keep things simple. Protect everyone,” she goes on in a rush.
Well, fuck.
Now I’m the one on my heels.
With any other woman any other time, I’d be relieved she wants to keep boundaries clear.
But with Nova, it bothers me.
When I said I wanted her, I meant all of her.
Is it even possible to draw a line through this woman that separates her heart from the rest of her?
Why the hell would anyone try?
We get out of the car and walk in silence to the elevator. I wait for her to go first, holding the door.
She hits the button for her floor, and I hit mine.
I frown at her the whole way up, wishing to hell I could see what’s going on inside her pretty head.
“You don’t have to do this,” I start.
“I’m doing exactly what I want to do,” she counters.
When the doors slide open at her floor, I follow her out.
She stops at her door and turns back to me. Her tongue darts out to lick her lips. “I don’t know if you know this, but Brooke has an insanely big jacuzzi bath.”
Nova unlocks the door and tugs her ponytail holder out with her free hand.
My throat dries.
Dammit.
I’m no saint. I don’t even play one for the cameras.
I try to summon every ounce of restraint in my body to remind us both that there are more important things than sex.
Inside, she hangs up her jacket and holds out a hand for mine. I pass it over.
“Is Brooke here?” It’s more cough than words.
“No, she’s at an event tonight.”
Nova reaches for the hem of her shirt and drags it up over her head, revealing a pink lace bra a few shades lighter than her hair. Her tits are curved and tempting.
A few days ago, I would’ve been thrilled with this Nova. Now, I’m wondering if our talk gave her the wrong idea. I don’t want her in bed at the expense of her heart.
I want all of her.
I follow her down the hall, kicking off my shoes. My T-shirt goes next, along with her leggings and underwear and bra. I can’t swallow my groan as her body is revealed in all its glory.
I drag her against me, my mouth crushing hers.
Goddamn, she feels perfect. I’ve dreamed about her like this so many times.
“You’re so warm,” she mumbles against my lips.
“Gonna make you warm too,” I promise.
Without breaking our kiss, I reach past her to turn on the jacuzzi. She puts the plug in the tub and steps inside, tugging me after her.