Tasha is waiting in the empty lobby, seated on one of the white leather and chrome chairs near the main entrance. Dressed in her black pants, deep-V shirt, and heels, she looks like any other chic Manhattanite who might step into this building on a Friday night. But as she spots me approaching and vaults from the chair, I see the stress in her face immediately.
Her mouth is drawn, deep lines bracketing her lips. Her normally sparkling brown eyes are puffy and bloodshot, as if she’s been crying recently.
As soon as I realize her distress, I break into a panicked jog to reach her. “Tasha? Honey, what’s wrong?”
She throws her arms around me, just as a jagged sob rips from her throat. “I didn’t know what to do, Avery! I didn’t know where else to go.”
“It’s okay,” I soothe, but I feel her trembling against me. “You’re all right. You’re safe. Just tell me what’s going on.”
“Joel.” She chokes his name like a curse and my blood runs a little cold. “He tried to—” She lifts her head, and I am stricken by the true fear I see in my friend’s face. “He said if I wanted to keep my job, I’d have to—”
She doesn’t finish, her words cut off by fresh tears.
“That son of a bitch.” Fury erupts from somewhere deep inside me, as bitter as acid. I am stricken by the thought of anyone hurting my friend, especially someone like Joel. I pull her out of my embrace, holding her at arm’s length so I can clearly see her face. “Tasha, did he . . . did he touch you?”
She shakes her head. “No. I ran out of there before he had the chance. I just grabbed my purse and I ran. I didn’t know what else to do.”
“Who’s Joel?”
Nick’s deep voice is a dark demand beside me. When I swivel my head to look at him, I am met with a stormy blue gaze that is a mere shade away from violent. He’s heard everything Tasha said, and his reaction seems as visceral as mine.
“Joel’s the manager at Vendange, a restaurant over on Madison.”
He nods tightly, disapprovingly, but he remains silent as Tasha launches into the details of what occurred.
“I was straightening out an order that Kimmie fucked up, and Joel comes over to me, telling me I’ve got customers waiting to cash out. I lost it. I told him they wouldn’t be waiting if it wasn’t for his useless girlfriend making extra work for me. I guess I finally had enough of his overbearing bullshit, you know? I didn’t think anything would come of it, but he was pissed. When I went to the storage room a little while later, he followed me inside. He locked the door.” She swallows hard, then blows out a sharp sigh. “He told me if I wanted to keep my job, I would have to make it up to him somehow, and that I could start right then and there.”
“Jesus Christ,” Nick mutters.
My own outrage is on full boil too. I never had much regard for Joel and his oily tactics, but what he’s done to Tasha tonight is beyond disgusting. “What about Tony? Does he know this happened?”
“No!” Her eyes go wide with alarm. “Are you kidding? I didn’t dare tell him. You know my husband. He’ll want to kill Joel for even thinking of touching me.”
She’s right about that, I have no doubt. Tony’s devotion to his wife is immutable. If he saw her like this, tearful and trembling, he’d put Joel in either the hospital or a body bag.
Based on the undercurrent of menace I feel radiating off Nick, I have to wonder if he’s struggling with the same impulse.
Tasha sniffles and wipes her tear-streaked face. “I’m sorry to put this on you, Ave. It’s not your problem. I just didn’t know where else to go.”
“It’s okay,” I reassure her. “You’re my best friend. Of course this is my problem too.”
She shakes her head. “What am I going to do? I can’t go back there now. I won’t. I’d rather flip burgers at a damn fast-food chain than go back and grovel for my job with Joel.”
I’m not about to let either of those things happen to her. “You’re absolutely not going back to work for Joel,” I tell her sternly. “We’ll figure this out, honey. But right now, I need to get you home. And you need to tell Tony what happened.”
She nods weakly. “Okay.”
“Come on. My purse is upstairs. Let me grab it and we can go catch the subway.”
We turn to head for the elevators. Nick stands in my way. “I’ll drive you where you need to go.”
Considering we left the apartment barely speaking to each other, I’m sure taking Tasha and me to Queens is the last thing he feels like doing. I’m not too enthused by the idea either. It hurts just to look at him now and feel the distance growing between us. I really don’t want to prolong my own torture by sitting beside him in his car, knowing he’s only helping out of obligation.