Worth the Chance(66)
“How’s Elle and baby Nicholas?”
“Good.” Nico smiles reflectively, chuckling to himself.
“What’s so funny?”
“She burned the bottle.”
“Burned the bottle? I’m surprised you even let her near the stove.” It’s been a running joke since Nico and Elle met, the woman is smart, beautiful, funny…but put her in the kitchen and she’s like a nun at a sex toy shop, scared and totally at a loss at what to do with any of the equipment.
“It was two in the morning. I guess she didn’t put enough water in the pot she was using to warm the bottle. Melted the plastic. Smoke alarms, fire department…the whole nine yards.” Nico smiles, clearly amused instead of upset.
“She’s never gonna live this one down.”
“Nope.”
Laughing, together we walk to the back room for water. “Can I ask you something?”
“Shoot.”
“Why Elle?”
Nico furrows his brow, confused at my question. He’s not sure where the question came from and oddly, neither am I. “You went out with a lot of women.” I smirk. “A lot. Think half the reason I got to the gym so early in middle school was to see what you had coming out from the night before.”
Tersely, Nico replies, “You got a point to this little walk down memory lane?” He folds his arms over his chest and leans against the counter, chugging half a water bottle down in one big gulp.
The amusement draining from my face, I’m in serious need of some advice, something I rarely ask from Nico. Not from anyone for that matter. “What made you know Elle was the right one?”
He’s quiet for a minute, giving his response thought before he replies, “I started to think about the future. Before Elle, I lived in the moment, never thinking past today or tomorrow. But the day I met her, I started to think about down the road…and every thought, every plan I made in my head, she was standing by my side.”
I nod. Thinking a few months ago I wasn’t even sure what I was doing at night as I got on my bike to go out. Yet this morning, as my mind wandered, I realized my lease would be up in six months, and I found myself wondering if maybe it would be time to move. Find a nicer place, one that Liv would like, possibly even want to share with me.
Nico waits, watching as I give his words some thought, I see a knowing grin rising to the surface. “You running on the treadmill or lifting every time you find yourself thinking of the future with Liv?”
I chuckle to myself, he’s so god damn right. “Running.” I smile.
Tossing our water bottles in the garbage, Nico slaps one hand on my shoulder as we head toward the door, turning off the lights as we pass through each room. “Eventually, you’ll be so exhausted from all the running, you’ll just give in.”
Chapter 43
Liv
The office I once loved walking into, with a feeling of pride and accomplishment consuming me, now relegated to Monday morning dread. My co-worker hates me, glares and sneers at me at every conceivable opportunity, my boss is a dreadful, leering sleezeball. All the honor and journalistic pride I felt starting this journey, crushed beneath the weight of the story I’ve been assigned.
“How’s the story coming, Olivia?” Summer smiles at me. I’m not sure if she’s grown ugly in the last two months, but I can no longer remember what I saw in her that I was jealous of when I first started. Her natural, glowing beauty disappeared, replaced by fake, stale, formulaic tricks to attract attention.
Ignoring her completely, I make my way into Sleezeball’s office for our Monday morning team meeting. Our sorry excuse for a team is one with only two players and a coach whose sole purpose is to get in our pants, rather than mentor us to watch our careers grow and prosper.
“Ladies. How are we today?” he asks, but doesn’t wait for a response. Mostly because he doesn’t really care. He exhales loudly, feigning remiss. “I’m really going to miss our Monday mornings together. Just a few more weeks and our little trio will become a couple.” Is this supposed to be motivation for winning the job? Because it’s making me feel like losing might not be such a bad thing after all. A lesser job a thousand miles away in New York is starting to sound appealing.
“I need both of your final stories two weeks from today.” Leaning back in his chair, he folds his arms over his chest and smiles at both of us, raising an eyebrow, almost daring us to complain.
“No problem, James. Mine will be ready. I had to scrap the fluff that was started, but my new research brought me a great new angle for the story. I think you’ll be very happy with it.” As she speaks, Summer slowly crosses and recrosses her legs, her barely professional length skirt hiking up a tiny bit more each time, a clearly calculated move. One that Sleezeball falls for, hook, line, and sinker. Of course.