Page 91 of Wine & Whiskey
She takes a deep breath. Gail has always been like this. It’s her who’s changing, but she can’t be unfair. “Yes, we’re fine.”
“But your career’s not. It’s difficult to recover from this kind of stuff. I don’t want to name names, but you-know-who’s career has gone backburner because of her shenanigans.”
“This is a one-time incident. It won’t happen again.”
“That’s what you said after the coffee house.”
Not that she needs a reminder. The confrontation with Juan seems so long ago after all they’ve been through. “Please do what you can to make the wish event happen. I really want to do it.”
“Of course, darling. Charity work can only help. We’ve got to get your reputation back up to the top.”
“It’s not about my reputation. It’s for her to know—”
“Right, right. I’ll let you know as soon as I get it smoothed out. Answer your phone immediately next time I call.”
Hopefully, the mission to salvage her career at least helps the kids who look up to her. She knocks softly on the guest room door before opening it. He lies in the same spot as before, unresponsive to her lips pressing against his forehead. “Nick?”
A flutter of uneasiness tickles her stomach. His pale skin and furrowed brow don’t convey the restful benefits of sleep. Worried her phone will disturb him, she heads downstairs for a bottle of water. She tosses the cell on the counter as Max walks in. “Hi.”
“Hey. We need to talk.”
Goose bumps rise on her arms at his pinched expression, his tight mouth twisting in disapproval. Nick’s pallid appearance from upstairs flashes in her mind. “What’s wrong?”
“Nick and I were pretty upset with you last night. How do you think I felt when I found out Spencer threatened you?”
Guilt swims in her stomach. Max’s job is to protect her, and she didn’t let him. Both he and Nick hurt by her secret. “If you knew, you would have raced upstairs and killed him.”
He crosses his arms and nods. “I wouldn’t have given it a second thought.”
No hint of hesitation in his voice, no uncertainty about his role as protector or executioner. A reality she may never be able to get used to. “I know, but I would have. I couldn’t live with myself, knowing he was dead because of me.”
“He would’ve been dead because of him.”
They stare at each other, neither convincing the other of their position. She gives in first. “Okay. I promise to tell you if anything happens. I appreciate you looking out for me.”
His body relaxes, and he winks at her. “That’s why Nick pays me the big bucks.”
“You’re the most expensive babysitter I know.”
“Maybe if you’re good, next time I’ll take you out for ice cream.”
“What happened to the doughnuts?”
His laugh makes her smile, even amidst her uneasiness. No one can break the bond they share over their mutual love of junk food. “You’re a bad influence on me. I’m going to make you run before and after.”
“Deal.”
He holds out his hands, beckoning her for a hug. “We good?”
She wraps her arms around his waist, grateful for his absolution. “Yeah, we’re good. Thank you for being such a good friend to us.”
“You’re welcome. Let’s get Nick and go get something to eat, because I’m starving. Is he working out?”
“He was still asleep when I came downstairs.”
His frown greets her as she steps out of his embrace, his concerned expression matching her own apprehension. He thinks the same thing. Nick would never stay in bed without her.
“I know. I’m worried too.” She shakes her head, giving his hand a light squeeze, trying to absorb some of his strength. “I’m going to check on him, and I’ll be back.”
