Page 21 of The Bad Boy's Good Girl

Chapter 7

Nausea was the absolute worst. She couldn’t even call it morning sickness because it just started in the morning and lasted until early in the evening. When she woke up in the morning, it kept her in bed an extra thirty minutes to actually get started. And forget about the smell of bacon, coffee, peanut butter, and sometimes even strong tea. They all made her stomach lurch, roil and turn over until it was completely empty.

That happened about five times a day. And especially when it came to fetching coffee for Brooks’. A task that normally took five minutes wound up taking fifteen with all the quick trips she made to dry heave in the toilet. Finally, the offending liquid sat in the cup and she sucked in a breath, hurrying to his office to sit it beside him and make a hasty exit.

“Nola.”

Damn these Corona men keeping me in their offices.“Yeah?” She thought maybe if she didn’t turn around he would see she was in a hurry. But eventually she did, staying by the door. Far, far away from the deadly coffee. “What do you need, Boss?”

He studied her from a distance, head tilted to the side as though trying to figure something out. “Can you come sit over here, please?”

She shook her head and wrapped her arms around her waist protectively. “I’m good over here. What’s up?”

“We need to talk.”

Seriously? “What about?”

He gestured for her to sit and she shook her head. “This. This is what we need to talk about Nola. You can hardly stand to be around me anymore and I want to know why.” He stood, coffee in his hand, and came closer. Too close. “What did I do?”

She took another step back, shaking her head as the scent of coffee hit her nostrils and her nausea button. “Nothing Brooks. I swear.”

“No, Nola, that’s not good enough. For the past couple weeks you can’t wait to get out of my office. You barely look me in the eye and we haven’t hung out since before Thanksgiving.” One hand on his hip, he took a long gulp of the coffee and shook his head. “Explain, please.”

“I told you,” she started and clapped both hands over her mouth as the lurch began. Her head shook as she scanned the room in search of a wastebasket. She wouldn’t make it to the bathroom. Not this time.

“Nola, come on. I thought we were friends.”

Dammit, they were friends. How could he question that? Ah, there it is. She pushed past him a little too carelessly and sent a few drops of the black stuff over the edge and onto the floor as she ran to pick up the black mesh can with the fresh liner. And finally the emptying portion of this dance began. It went on and on. And on. When she finished, her face held a light sheen of sweat and felt chilled to the touch. But the nausea had passed. She glared at Brooks. “You think we’re not friends?”

His blue gaze darkened and he shrugged. “These days, I don’t know.”

Nola nodded, refusing to let him see how his words wounded her. She’d thought they were best friends. That he might understand she was going through a few things. But no. “Then that’s your answer,” she replied coolly, proud her voice hadn’t shaken as she’d basically confirmed the end of her friendship with Brooks.

“Nola, what’s wrong?”

Turning her back to him she tied off the trash bag and held it at arm’s length. “Nothing for you to concern yourself with. Apparently.” Keeping the bag as far from her as possible, she walked a straight line to the door, exiting his office without another word.

After disposing of the trash, she made her way to the bathroom for a short cry and plenty of cold water to clear up her blotchy tear-stained skin before sitting back at her desk like nothing had happened. In the grand scheme of things, she supposed nothing had happened. She’d been alone since Halloween when they finally laid Grammie to rest. Losing Brooks felt like a paper cut in comparison to the hemorrhage she felt then.

I have to quit.She knew she needed to move on. Without Grammie, she didn’t have to keep this job. Only now I really need a well-paid job with benefits. The problem was that she couldn’t stay, not with things as they were. She’d stayed because Brooks needed her. Because they were friends and she was damn good at her job. By the end of the day I’ll decide. It was the best she could do for now. Besides if she did quit, she needed to get ahead on things for the new hire.

She’d been working for hours when a shadow crossed her desk. “How can I help you, Brooks?” Should she call him Mr. Corona now?

He sighed and raked a hand through his perfectly coiffed hair. “Let’s grab lunch.”

Her stomach tightened. “No thanks. My stomach isn’t feeling all that great so I’m going to skip lunch.”

“What’s wrong, Nola?” His voice sounded so full of anguish, so tortured. “Are you seriously ill?”

“I’m fine.” Say it enough times and it just might be true. That was her philosophy going forward. “Don’t worry about me, Brooks.”

“How can I not,” he bit out, harshly. “You missed work, you puked in my trashbin.”

Ah so that was it. “Well, I’m sorry if my being under the weather inconvenienced you in any way. I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

With a frustrated huff, Brooks stomped away.

Nola began typing up her resignation letter.

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