Chapter 25
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Nikolas
“You sure she’s not mad?” Mike asked when I slipped my phone into my pocket.
“I’m sure. She understood. Okay, do you need anything else before I head home?”
“Nope. Helping me get ready for bed was a huge help. I’ve emailed my boss at the lab and told him I’ll be useless for a few weeks, aside from paperwork. Waiting to hear back from him.”
I walked around Mike’s living room and picked up the trash from the tacos I picked up for him on our way home from the ER. “Hey, I’ve got a bottle of water and your next two pain pills set out on your nightstand since you can’t open the bottle. I’ll stop in for lunch when I get a break.”
“Thanks, man. I appreciate that. So you didn’t say much about your dinner. Did you tell her she’s the one you’re interested in?” he asked from his perch on the sofa.
“No, I messed up. Her ex, Ethan, was there, and I got flustered. I tried to put him in his place after saying something ignorant to her, so I kissed her hand and basically told the guy to go away.”
“Wow. That’s impressive. You hate confrontation. I mean, the hand kissing is kind of lame, but telling him off. Go, Niko!”
Scowling, I dried my hands and walked back to the living room. “I’m sorry I came and bailed your butt out, ingrate,” I grumbled. “And I’ll have you know the hand kissing was not lame.”
“If you say so,” he said while cackling when I sneered at him.
“I messed up. I made up a name when Leyla pushed me for one.”
“Who’d you tell her it was?”
I paused. “Pam.”
He twisted his neck toward me with a grimace. “Pam? Who’s that?”
I scoffed. “A made-up woman, remember? Are you even listening?”
“Right, right. Sorry, the pain pills they gave me are still making me loopy. Dude, what you need to do now is create shock and awe.”
I wasn’t sure what he meant, and before I could ask, he eyed me closely. He added, “You didn’t take any embarrassing videos of me while I was drugged up, did you? You know, like those reels I send you when people come out of anesthesia?”
I raised one eyebrow and answered, “Oh, you mean like you telling the doctor that he reminded you of Gandalf and then proceeding to spout off Lord of the Rings quotes? Nope. Sure didn’t.”
His mouth opened and closed as I grabbed my keys and headed to the door. “Hey, send me the video! I might go viral,” he said cheerily. “Oh, and good luck with Pam!”
Shaking my head, I locked his door and walked to my car. If anyone could go viral, it would be Mike.
The next few days brought disappointment with the lab's progress. One of the smaller projects my team was working on had hit a snag.
“Niko, this new botanical extract is reacting badly with a preservative or UV filter,” Marshall said, leaning over the table.
“And you said you’ve tested it three times?” I asked, checking over the notes.
“Yes, but it’s the first time using this supplier.”
“Let’s get the supplier on the phone and see what we can find out. The answer is there. We just can’t see it yet. Thanks, Marshall.”
He let out a heavy sigh and headed for his office to place the call. The rest of the day went by quickly, and when I walked to the elevator at five thirty, Leyla walked up beside me just as the door opened.
“Hey, fancy meeting you here,” she said with a smile.
“Hi.” My heart did somersaults at the sight of her.
“How’s Mike doing?” she asked, pushing the button.
“Still in some pain but getting a little more independent. Luckily, it wasn’t his dominant hand, but I’ve had to go by and help him all this week. Frankly, I think he’s milking it at this point,” I said with an eye roll that made her laugh.
The elevator door opened, and we both walked out. “Where are you parked?” I asked.
Pointing to the front parking spot, she said, “Just there. Perks of being the CEO. No need to walk me to my car. You can see me from here.”
“I don’t mind. Actually, I wanted to ask you something.” Mike had challenged me to ask her out again since our last “date” had been interrupted. He reminded me if I wanted to win her over, I needed to step up.
Recently, I realized I no longer felt rushed to answer her questions, which led me to believe she was deliberately giving me space. It was refreshing.
“Since we didn’t get to finish dinner, I thought we could try again. Maybe something different this time. I still need your help overcoming my shyness in some areas.” I shifted on my feet as I waited for her answer.
“I’d love that. Sunday, I’m going to church with Vicky and Miles. Not sure about afterward, but I’m free on Saturday night,” she said, smiling.
“I’m glad to hear you’re joining them at church. And yes, Saturday is great. We can grab a less formal dinner, and then I was thinking we could maybe go dancing.”
Shock registered on her face as her eyes widened and her mouth opened. It was exactly what I was going for. Defne suggested I take her dancing, saying women usually loved the idea. My backup plan was a dance class if she said she didn’t know how.
“Wow, I wasn’t prepared for that,” she said with a chuckle. “Nikolas Demir dancing? Who knew?”
“Well, my mom was a dance instructor at one time, so Defne and I were forced to learn when we were young. I haven’t been dancing in years, but I thought you might enjoy it.”
“Neither have I. But I’m in!” She started walking backward toward her car. “You keep surprising me. I like it.” She spun back around, and I watched her get in, wave, and pull away.
Releasing a breath I’d been holding, I rubbed the back of my neck and prayed I wasn’t making a big mistake. Shock and awe, Mike had said. I hoped this was what he meant.
My mom was thrilled at the idea of her and Dad giving me a refresher course in some dance moves when I video-called them Friday night.
Surprisingly, she didn’t press for details, but as always when it came to her, she had a knowing smile the whole time.
It was so good to see them happy and laughing as they danced around their living room.
He had her blushing as he spun her around and dipped her dramatically. I could only dream of having a marriage like theirs. Even through the lean years growing up, their mutual love and respect had seen them through.
When I spoke with Leyla a few days earlier, I told her we could eat dinner at a food truck event in Balboa Park before heading to the venue for dancing, which she seemed excited about.
I chose a dark-wash jean paired with a forest-green Henley that reminded me of her eyes.
Throwing on my light leather jacket, I headed to Leyla’s, excited but nervous about the evening.
As I drove, a battle raged in my head over whether to come clean and tell her there was no Pam and that she was the one I was interested in.
When I got to her front door, I took a deep breath in and out. I knocked and backed away.
I could hear her talking over the sound of her footsteps when she opened it, her phone to her ear.
“Hey,” she whispered. “Sorry, let me get off the call. Come in.”
Her house matched her personality, I thought, following her into the living room. Understated elegance with a touch of fun.
A tan sofa anchored the space, its clean lines offset by throw pillows in muted patterns, one embroidered with a quiet, almost playful detail you noticed only after a second glance.
A vintage, wooden coffee table held several novels and a ceramic bowl glazed in an uneven, hand-thrown blue, the kind of piece chosen because it made her smile.
Her heels clicked on the wooden floors as she made her way back to me. “Sorry about that. Sofia was on a roll.”
“That’s fine. Oh, these are for you.” I handed her the bouquet of bright-orange lilies, making her smile widely.
“You’re spoiling me,” she said, bringing them to her face. “They’re beautiful.”
She stilled when I reached my hand up to her cheek and gently wiped away a bit of gold-colored pollen.
“You had something there.” Her eyes blinked as I continued wiping, the flowery dust long gone.
“Thank you,” she said through a puff of breath.
Right there. I should’ve told her right then and there how I felt. Maybe I was afraid of rejection and selfishly wanted to keep up this ruse for a bit longer.
I pulled my hand away with a nod.
“Ah, let me put these in water, and we can go.” She nearly dropped the bouquet but giggled and finished putting them in the vase.
When she turned away from me, I was grateful I wasn’t holding anything in my hands. Her colorful, patterned turquoise dress was tied in some intricate knot at her neck, leaving the back uncovered. Leyla never failed to make my knees weak.
“Ready,” she called, grabbing a jean jacket and a tiny purse that hung from a long strap.
She lived just a few minutes away from Balboa Park, so our conversation was short, gratefully, because her sweet vanilla perfume was once again seeping into the fabric of both my car and my heart. It was knocking me off my axis once again.
After finally finding a parking spot, we walked through the tree-lined avenues, weaving through the crowds gathered at the food truck event.
“What looks good?” she asked, scanning the menus as we passed each truck.
“I’m up for anything except oysters and liver,” I answered.
She laughed lightly. “Got it. Nothing slimy.”
I was still walking when I realized she wasn’t next to me anymore. Straining my neck, I couldn’t find her, so I started pushing through the crowd, worried something had happened.
I found her a few minutes later, scanning the growing crowd looking for me. A wide smile grew as our eyes connected. Walking quickly toward her, I asked, “Are you all right? I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you weren’t beside me. We can find you a table to sit at, and I can fight the crowd.”
“I’m fine, promise. Just thought I’d lost you there for a moment,” she said with a wink. “Let’s fight the crowd together.”
Gathering my courage, I held out my hand to her. She looked at my hand, then back at me.