Deep(90)
Fred reported on his work backing Agent Amy Cavanaugh down and smoothing over any feathers she’d ruffled while she was digging around. Nick wasn’t sure they’d heard the last of Miss Cavanaugh, but she’d been muzzled, and they knew to keep an eye on her. As Ben and Fred indulged in dessert, and Nick stuck to coffee, Ben gave him an appraising look. “You’ve handed off an important job to J.J.”
“It’s his job. And I told you I’d fasten my cuffs when Church was no longer a problem.”
Ben waved his hand. “Don’t mistake me, nephew. I think you made the right choice. But it’s not the choice of a man with reservations. You’re feeling better about J.J., I take it.”
“I think he’s arrogant and inexperienced, and those are dangerous traits, especially in combination. But I’ve seen some competence, too. Some learning. So I’m willing to give him a job in his purview and expect him to do it well. But if he fucks it up, I will handle the job and J.J. both.”
“Fair enough.” Ben smiled and had a spoonful of spumoni. “You know, when you were made capo, you weren’t much older than J.J. I heard the same kind of protests about you.”
“I wasn’t inexperienced.”
“No. You’d made your bones. But you were young for a capo. And you were thought of as arrogant.”
Fred laughed, and Nick turned a cold eye on the consigliere. “You have something to say, Fred?”
Grinning, Fred answered, “Only that the difference between arrogant and confident is success.”
“Then let’s see which one J.J. is.”
~oOo~
Two days later, it was done.
The scene had been set for the story to be that on his way home after closing his shop for the night, during a light rain, Chris Mills hit a turn on the coast road, not far from the lighthouse, and went through the guardrail and over the side to the rocks below.
He was reported dead at the scene.
Nick got the call from J.J. while he and Beverly were watching a movie, sitting together on her white sofa against her magenta wall. Used to Nick getting calls throughout the day and evening, Beverly made no note of the interruption at all, and Nick settled back with her without comment, pulling her close.
He took what closeness she could give him.
The next morning, he stood on her balcony and watched her swim her laps. She was a strong, lithe swimmer, her lines perfectly straight, her rhythm like clockwork. Watching her body in its strength made him hard. He missed that body, the way it felt in his hands. The way he felt inside her.
Her return to the routines of her life gave Nick hope that she would someday reclaim her bright peace. He saw signs that she was getting better. She was eating better, working out, filling back out. She was freer with physical contact than she had been in the first weeks after the attack. She no longer hid her body from him—though that made some things more difficult for him, he was glad to see her trust strengthening again.
Her trust.
Behind him, her phone rang. It rang until it went to voice mail, and then, a minute or so later, a voice mail alert chimed. He stepped back through the open balcony door and went to the kitchen counter to check it.
Bruce. Calling so early, it was no social call. This was Bruce sharing news he’d just learned, that Mills had had an accident. That he was dead.
And now Nick would live his first lie with Beverly.
~oOo~
She came in wearing her white terrycloth robe, a purple towel draped over her shoulders and her wet hair free from the rolled braid she wore when she swam. She smiled her beautiful smile at him, and she looked like his Beverly, almost as bright as ever.
“Hi! I thought you’d be gone already. You’re still in your track pants.” She walked over around the counter and into the kitchen, and he kissed her.
“No meetings today until later. I thought I’d have a slow morning.” He put his arm around her waist and held her to him. “You seem good this morning.”
“It was a good swim. My head feels straighter this morning. I think it’s the weather, too. I like the first sunny day after a rainy spell. Everything smells good, and the air has weight.”
He laughed. “Most people hate humidity, you know that.”
“I like it. The world feels more real.”
He loved this woman with a depth he hadn’t yet fathomed. Setting his coffee aside, he wrapped her in both arms and kissed her, clutching her tightly to his bare chest. When she kissed him back, sincerely and without hesitation, her tongue alive with his, he groaned and pulled back. “I like seeing you like this, bella.” In fact, he wanted to throw her phone over the balcony and into the pool below, and keep her here, innocent of anything but their love.