Chapter 16 Nova
NOVA
HOLD THE LINE
“He’s been hanging around a lot lately, huh?
” Alicia sneaks into my office two days after dinner at La Tavola, checking left and right, like she’s a spy and this is a top-secret mission that could end with gunfire or torture.
Closing my door in the same moment Lincoln Castro steps out of the bank, she dashes across my rug and plops onto the visitor’s chair, her eyes alight with playfulness.
“He’s been in here almost every day this week! ”
“He applied for a home loan, but he’s new to town and the bank.” I sit back and fold one leg over the other. Be cool, Nova. Relax. Your heart absolutely does not flutter when you think of him. “He’s had to jump through more hoops than our regular customers.”
“Uh-huh. Sure. But customers don’t look at the loan officer the way he looks at you. He wants more than a mortgage, Nov. He wants to eat you for dinner.”
“Actually, no.” I choke out a soft laugh, dragging the chain from beneath my blouse and sliding my thumbnail along each rhythmic bump.
“My real-life experience says he doesn’t.
We went out for dinner a couple of nights ago, and I assure you, despite my shameless offering, he didn’t bite—literally or figuratively. ”
“You went on a date?” She surges forward and grips the edge of my desk. “Like, out out? For a meal and stuff?”
“I mean, I ordered the chicken and white wine pasta.” Goddddd. My stomach twists every single time I think of his rejection. Even knowing his reasons, even understanding them, won’t remove the sharp ache between my ribs. “He ordered pasta, too. Then we got ice cream and made out a little.”
“You made out?!” She squeezes the mahogany until her knuckles turn white. “Nova Nichols! And you didn’t tell me?”
We’re not calling each other sweetie friends, and we’re not gossiping about our dating life friends, either. Instead, I glance toward my computer screen and the emails slipping into my inbox faster than I can keep up.
“He’s renting Mr. Carnagy’s house, which is—”
“Practically your next-door neighbor! Oh man, you’re living out a real-life romance, and you said nothing?
He seems nice, though.” She clears her throat, bringing her volume down and sitting back to reclaim a modicum of professionalism.
Playing it cool. “Truly. He’s pretty quiet, so far as I’ve seen.
But he’s always been polite. Holding doors for other customers if they’re coming through.
Never wears a hat inside and takes off his sunglasses.
And I heard Sally talking about him a few days ago. ”
“Sally? From the grocery store?”
“Yeah. She was ringing him up and making small talk, I guess. He was well-mannered and chatted back. She asked how he was settling in, and he asked about good places to go for dinner. Oh!” Her eyes widen. “OH! La Tavola! He was asking for you!”
“You’re way too excited about this.” I slide my tongue down to wet my lips and consider how best to get Alicia out of my office so I can reclaim my privacy.
But then my cellphone dings with an incoming email, stealing my focus as I lean across and scan the screen.
Picking it up and reading the small snippet available, I know my expression darkens as I unlock the device and swipe across.
“Are-are you okay?” She sits forward, her movement a mere flicker in my peripherals. “You look like you just got bad news.”
“Not bad news.” I open the email at the top of my inbox and nibble on the inside of my cheek.
Dear Ms. Nichols,
Under the directives outlined by your brother, Ryan Nichols, in his last will and testament, we write to inform you of a parcel he wished for you to receive in the event of his death. Please call the office at your earliest convenience so we can set up a time to meet.
Best Regards,
Jodie Aberdeen
“Nova?” Alicia tries again. “What is it?”
“The lawyers.” I tap the hyperlink at the bottom of the email, and bringing the phone to my ear, I release Ry’s chain and lift a finger to silence my colleague.
“Abercrombie and Aberdeen,” a bubbly voice answers. Ironic, really, since anyone calling a lawyer’s office is probably experiencing some of the worst days of their lives. “This is Tegan speaking. How can I help you?”
“Hi, Tegan.” I reach up and smooth the deep lines of stress scoring my forehead. “It’s Nova Nichols. Can I please speak to Jodie? I just got an email from her.”
“Sure. Hold the line, please.”