Broken (Nick #1) Read online

Page 20


  But, as I wandered around the apartment, trying to persuade myself to get into a drafting project that I was putting off for way too long, my mind wandered over to Scotty again. I was battling myself there. I was lurching between wanting to be a good boy and wait for Scotty to come around, and wanting to be the bad boy that I always was before I met her.

  Which one was winning? In the story of the two wolves, one who was bad and one good, the one who would prevail would be the one who was fed. Right now, the bad boy was being fed and the good boy was being starved. Not that this was what I wanted. I wanted to be good, because I wanted to be with somebody who I truly loved.

  And, for better or worse, I truly loved Scotty.

  I had to either cut my feelings for Scotty loose, and move on, or keep trying to win her heart. But her repeatedly rebuffing me was making me question myself. It was the very definition of insanity- doing the same thing, over and over, hoping for a different result. In this case, I was continually pursuing Scotty, and hoping that one day she might actually say yes to a date.

  If somebody would have told me six months ago that I would ever be put in this position, I would have laughed in their face. Now, here I was, pining away for the one that I couldn’t have.

  So, when Ava called me after her hair appointments and shopping, I asked her to come over again. She readily agreed.

  She ended up staying the rest of the weekend. And I tried to focus on her, I really did.

  But still, the whole time she was there at the apartment, I couldn’t take my mind off of the elusive Scotty.

  Chapter 41

  Scotty

  So, I wasn’t going to be fired after all. Thank god. Thank god. Thank god. I didn’t know how that came about, because I wasn’t able to talk to Nick about it. I hoped that he said good things about me, though. I would imagine that he did.

  Turned out I really did have something to celebrate with Shane after all. It also turned out that I would be able to walk with Shane to the bar that was around the corner, where we would be having a drink.

  Ironically enough, I felt comfortable around most men, even though what happened to me with Mr. Lucas would make it seem that I wouldn’t be at ease with the opposite sex. It wasn’t a problem hanging out with most guys, though. The only problem was hanging out with guys for whom I had strong feelings. And, for some reason, I felt, right from the start, that I had strong feelings for Nick. That was why I was always so terrified of him.

  Shane, on the other hand, held little romantic interest for me. So, I was looking forward to hanging out with him and having a few drinks and relaxing a bit. I knew that Shane probably had designs on me, but I had become an expert on shutting men down. Piece of cake.

  Shane came around and picked me up at my cubicle at exactly five o’clock. “Ready for a little happy hour?” he asked.

  “Sure, let me get my coat and stuff,” I said.

  I reappeared five minutes later with my outerwear on, and Shane and I walked to the bar.

  Friday Happy Hour was happening in the bar, and there were wall-to-wall people. We found a table to sit at, and Shane got us both a Bud Light.

  “Thanks, Shane,” I said. “God, I need this drink after the day I’ve had. Talk about pins and needles.”

  “Yeah, a bunch of us were worried that we’d lose you. That would really suck.”

  “Suck would not be the word for that.”

  Shane and I chatted a bit, finding out more about each other.

  “You going to the Christmas party?” Shane asked. Our firm was going to be holding its annual party at Lamb's Club.

  “Sure,” I said. “I was planning on it.” I actually was looking forward to seeing Nick on a more personal basis, so that was the real reason why I was looking forward to the party. But I would never tell Shane that. I was surprised that the other interns didn’t pick up on my feelings for Nick as it was. They certainly seemed to know about my almost-being-fired crisis.

  Shane took another sip of his beer. “Maybe we could go together?”

  Oh, crap. Nick wouldn’t like that at all. At all. “Maybe,” I said non-committally. Looks like I’m going to have to shut this down. “Actually, I think I might bring my roommate as my date.”

  “Your roommate?”

  “Yeah, Jack. He’s my gay roommate. I try to drag him along whenever I can. But I’ll see you there at any rate, huh?”

  “Sure,” he said, obviously seeing that he was being rebuffed.

  Then he looked at me shyly. “Are you, uh, seeing anybody right now?”

  “Um, no. I don’t really date.”

  “You don’t? How is that possible? You’re gorgeous.”

  “Well, I really need to focus on my schoolwork and internship projects. I’ve never really had time to date, to tell the truth.”

  “Oh, come on, now. You have to have a life. Some fun. All work and no play would make Scotty a very dull girl,” he said, nudging me under the table with his knee. He took a swig of his beer, watching me the entire time. “What do you say we go to the film festival they’re having in Chelsea tomorrow afternoon? They’re screening the films of the French New Wave directors. Truffaut, Godard, Rohmer and Chabrol. You haven’t lived until you’ve seen Breathless on the big screen.”

  I had to admit, that sounded tempting and fun. I always loved going to film festivals. There was something about just spending the day watching movies that appealed to me. Like playing hooky from school. But, on the other hand, I didn’t really lie when I told Shane that I didn’t have time for play. My schoolwork and internship did occupy most of my time. When I wasn’t engrossed in one or the other, I was obsessing about Nick.

  Perhaps it would do me some good to get out of my head and forget about Nick for awhile. I did have a pile of schoolwork that I had to attend to, so I would just have to hunker down on Sunday to get it done. Shane was a fun guy, and, as long as I gave him my usual disclaimer about not dating anybody, and make it clear that I was attending the film festival with him just as a friend, it might not be so bad.

  Shane was still watching me from behind his swig of beer. It was clear that he was attracted to me, but it was just as clear that I would want nothing, romantically, to do with him.

  “Shane,” I began, “I’d love to go with you to the film festival. I’ve always been very interested in French New Wave directors myself. But I have to give you a disclaimer. This won’t be a date. I really am not looking to date anybody, at least until I get my master’s degree and my career underway. I’m very focused and really can’t let anybody distract me from that. But it sounds like fun, so count me in. If you’re still interested, that is.”

  Shane looked disappointed, but nodded his head. “You wanna meet down there? So it won’t seem like a date?”

  “Sure, that’s a great idea,” I said.

  We chatted for a few hours more, before I headed home to my empty apartment and empty bed. Jack was working at the bar that night, and he had informed me that he was spending the night with his new guy, Brad.

  “And I think he might be the one, Scotty,” Jack had said about Brad. “He’s a Wall Street type who has a house in Connecticut and a loft in Chelsea. So, wish me luck!”

  “Luck!” I said at the time.

  But tonight, after leaving Shane and not getting to talk to Nick before he left work for the weekend, I was feeling very lonely. Jack wasn’t there to cheer me up, either.

  Jack was right all along. He might not always be there for me. And, if he gets involved with a new guy, and gets a part in the musical that he was called back for, I would be all alone.

  I went to sleep feeling more sad and lonely than ever.

  I really missed Nick.

  Chapter 42

  I met Shane at the theatre in Chelsea for the French New Wave film festival right at 11 on Saturday morning. The film festival would be screening Breathless by Jean-Luc Godard; Jules et Jim by Francois Truffaut; My Night at Maud’s by Eric Rohmer; and Les Biches by Claud
e Chabrol. Les Biches was actually the first film of the morning, and the festival would end with Breathless, which was widely known to be one of the pièce de résistance of the French New Wave movement. I had actually never seen any of the movies, so I was eager to take them in.

  Shane and I each got a tub of popcorn and a coke. I paid for my own movies, of course, happy that I had gotten paid, finally, from the firm, I mean Nick, so I had a little bit of spending money for the day. I was actually looking forward to seeing the films.

  And I was somewhat looking forward to seeing Shane. But only as a friend. I wished that Shane was gay, like Jack, so that I would feel completely comfortable hanging out with him. Then, I could have a new gay bestie, in case Jack and his main squeeze, Brad, got serious, and I would be left behind. But, unfortunately, Shane was decidedly straight.

  So, I constantly had to brush off his arm, which would casually creep on my shoulders throughout the films.

  Then, after the films were over, and we went to the Denny’s on Nassau, I noticed that Shane was staring at my chest for much of the meal. Never mind the fact that I consciously wore an enormous sweater on this particular outing. He still stared at me like a cat who was salivating over a bird.

  I dug in my Moons Over My Hammy with gusto, though, as I was feeling famished. I tried to ignore Shane’s leering, but it was getting increasingly difficult.

  As Shane walked me to the subway, then leaned in for a kiss, at which time I turned my head so that he couldn’t plant his lips on mine, I knew that I couldn’t accept any more invitations from him or anybody else who wanted to go out. It seemed that guys couldn’t get the hint that a girl really wasn’t interested, no matter how much the girl emphasized that she only wanted to be friends.

  Shane just looked at me after his aborted attempt to kiss me, and frowned. “You’re kind of a tease, you know that?”

  I was baffled. I intentionally wore large clothing, I met him for the film festival, as opposed to having him come and pick me up, and I took his arm off of my shoulders every time he put it there throughout the film festival. Yet, I was somehow teasing him?

  I shuddered as I remembered that I was accused of being a tease by Mr. Lucas before he started coming into my room. He leered at me constantly, and would whisper to me, even when Elle was around, that I was teasing him.

  Now here was Shane, accusing me of the same thing. And, just like that, my hackles rose.

  “What the hell are you talking about?” I asked him. “How was I teasing you?”

  “You just were. You’re so incredibly hot,” he said. “How am I supposed to behave myself around you?”

  “This outing wasn’t a good idea,” I said. “I really need to get my train and go home now.”

  He put his hands on my shoulders just then. I looked around, and there were hundreds of people waiting for the subway. Thank god I wasn’t alone with him. He leaned down for another kiss, and I slapped him across the face.

  “Bitch!” he said, grabbing me more forcefully. He attracted the attention of another guy, who stepped in between the two of us. He was a black guy, about 6’2” and a good 220 lbs. of muscle.

  Shane just looked up at the guy. “What do you want?” he asked the guy.

  “The lady here doesn’t look like she’s enjoying your company. I suggest you move along.”

  Shane said nothing, and just glared at me silently.

  The black guy turned around to me. “Miss, I think that’s your train,” he said, pointing to the train that had just pulled up.

  I nodded my head, and reached out my hand to the guy. “Thank you,” I said. The guy just shook my hand and nodded.

  “You better hurry,” he said. “You don’t want your train to leave without you.”

  I impulsively hugged the guy before boarding the train for home.

  Once safely on the subway, I looked out the window at the black guy, who was clearly lecturing a pissed-off Shane.

  Then I slumped in my seat and hugged myself, willing myself not to cry in front of the crowd of people who were in the car with me. But my near-miss with Shane made me think about Mr. Lucas again, and I felt depressed and agitated at the same time.

  And, suddenly, going to work on Monday wasn’t looking as inviting as it did before.

  Chapter 43

  Nick

  I got to work on Monday, after making sure that Ava got home ok from my loft. I didn’t make the same mistake that I did with Penelope and Amber that one time, as I made sure that I got up early enough to get Ava a cab. And, no, I didn’t get Charlie to take her home.

  Scotty was still the only woman who was special enough for Charlie.

  I waited, with bated breath, for 10 AM, so that I could see Scotty. Spending the weekend with Ava didn’t make me want to see Scotty less. It made me want to see her more.

  She arrived right at 10, seeing me first thing. She sat down across from me, and I had a different reaction upon seeing her than usual. I didn’t get hard, but I felt a little…melty. That’s the best way to describe it. Like I was a pool of jello.

  I had never, ever, had the reaction with any other woman before.

  “Hi, Scotty,” I said with a smile. “How are you doing today?”

  “Fine, Nick,” she said, also smiling. “I actually wanted to talk with you about the meeting you guys had on Friday.”

  I started to tell her about what had happened, but George soon appeared at my door. “Nick, I’ve had an emergency with my wife. She was in an accident.”

  “Oh, shit,” I said. “Is she ok?”

  “Yeah, but she’s in the hospital and pretty scared. I had a meeting set up with some of my residential clients. Could you fill in?”

  “Sure,” I said, and then looked at Scotty. “Let’s table this discussion, ok?”

  “Of course,” she said. “Uh, you can find me later at my usual place.”

  The meeting with George’s clients, unfortunately, went on all morning. I was actually able to discuss their design ideas with them intelligently, as I knew George’s style by then and knew quite a bit about neo-classicism, having designed a number of buildings in that very genre myself.

  Later on that morning, I heard stories about Shane going out with Scotty. Not from Scotty herself, but from another intern who happened to see the two of them out together at a film festival on Saturday night. That intern started talking to other interns, and the story filtered to me on that Monday afternoon.

  Actually, it didn’t filter to me. I just overheard some of them talking about it when I went to see Scotty to take her to lunch.

  “That’s what I heard,” John, a young intern from NYIT was saying to Robin, who was an intern from Columbia. “Shane had his arm around Scotty at the movie theatre.”

  “I had no idea that they were even going out. When did that get started?” Robin asked.

  “Who knows? I thought the girl was asexual myself. I heard that she doesn’t date, at all. Weird. She’s so cute, too.”

  “Yeah, she is. But those clothes she wears. God, talk about out-dated,” Robin said, with a giggle.

  “Out-dated, maybe, but she sure does those garments justice.”

  “Men,” Robin said. “Even you educated ones are all about the rack. And I don’t mean the clothing rack.”

  I felt my ire rising, hearing them talk about Scotty that way. But, them insulting Scotty about the clothes that she wore took a backseat to my instant hatred of Shane. Suddenly, I was the one who wanted to do the railroading.

  Scotty was going out with him? To say that I was jealous was understating the matter. Scotty would go out with him, but not me?

  I shook my head, and retreated back into my office. Scotty apparently was fine having Shane take her out. So, I was more confused than ever. Perhaps she was blowing me off because she just wasn’t into me after all. Maybe she just concocted that entire story because she didn’t want to have anything to do with me.

  On the one hand, I still was in love with that girl.
On the other hand, I was angry to think that she possibly lied to me about why she didn’t want to get involved. Why couldn’t she just come right out and tell me that she wasn’t interested? Instead, she came up with this wild story of her being raped by her foster father.

  I was starting to have doubts, and was starting to think that maybe she wasn’t to be trusted after all.

  I found myself wishing, again, that I had Ryan’s gift for reading people and intuition. I had no problem bedding women over the course of my life, but reading them was something that I always had difficulty doing. I was as obtuse as anybody when it came to that.

  Part of the reason why I never could read women before was because I really didn’t want to. I didn’t care. Now, for the first time, I really did care, and it was making very anxious.

  While I sat at my desk, stewing, I got a phone call.

  “O’Hara,” I said. It was somewhat unusual that I would get a phone call on my private line. Usually the secretary puts the calls through. But this call came in direct.

  “Hello,” said a familiar voice. “This is Jack. Scotty’s roommate.”

  I brightened up a tad. “Hey, Jack. How are you doing?”

  “Great. I just wanted to say a belated thank you for putting in a good word for me with your friend. Don’t tell Scotty yet, because I want this to be a surprise, but I got a part in his next play. And I owe it all to you.”

  “Don’t mention it. You got it through your own talent. I just got you the audition. You did the rest.”

  “Be modest all you want. But you’ve helped me a shit-ton, so I’m very grateful to you.”

  “Well, ok, then. You’re welcome.” Then I asked him “so, how was your Thanksgiving?”

  “Great, great. Scotty and me just did the usual. Played games, saw lights. We had a chicken because we couldn’t afford a turkey. How about you?”

  I felt my heart sinking. She even lied to me about that. I was distracted as I answered him. “Yes, uh, yes. What was the question again?”

  “Just wanted to know how your holiday was.”