~ Emma
“Wait, you met this guy here?” Sarah asks as we reach Nick’s bar. I nod, biting my lip as I hold the door open for her. “He was a customer that night?”
I shake my head; still unable to give voice to the guy I’ve offered to introduce her to but seemingly can’t bring myself to talk about.
“So what?” she says, pausing as she’s halfway through the door. “He works here, the bartender?”
I nod now, blushing a little as Sarah smiles at me before turning and walking inside. The guy I now know as Tony is working the bar tonight, along with a girl I don’t recognise. I glance around the room, searching, but Nick is nowhere in sight.
Sarah grabs my hand as she all but marches us up to the bar and squeezes us in between two other customers so we are standing right in front of Tony. She grins at him, seemingly waiting for him to notice us. When he finally does, her smile widens and I watch as Tony takes this as a come on and immediately starts flirting.
“Hey there, beautiful,” he says, flicking a towel over his shoulder as he props a hip against the bar.
Sarah blinks once in confusion before turning to me as I stand squashed against her. Tony’s eyes move to mine and almost immediately his smile vanishes.
“Fuck me, it’s about time you showed up,” he says, turning and putting both hands on the bar as he leans towards me. “Where the…”
“Whoa, now wait a second,” Sarah says, immediately cutting him off. “How dare you speak to her like that.”
Tony glances at her before turning back to face me. “Where the hell have you been, Emma?” he asks, ignoring Sarah.
“Hey!” Sarah says reaching out and grabbing Tony’s chin as she turns his face back to hers. “Watch it, mister,” she says and I can practically feel her bristling beside me. “She’s your…your…” she stops, glancing at me as though she isn’t quite sure how to describe what I am. “Well, she’s not your bloody slave you know, or your property, even if you are shagging her.”
My face flushes in embarrassment as Tony’s breaks into a wide grin, the laugh falling from his mouth as he pulls back from Sarah’s grip. “Trust me, sweetheart,” he says. “It’s not me who’s shagging her,” he adds, pointing at me. “And it’s not me who’s been slowly losing his shit about where she’s been tonight either. You, Emma,” he says more seriously as he turns to look at me now. “You have some explaining to do.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Sarah asks, confused. She looks from Tony, to me, and then back again. Either she doesn’t remember Nick from the night she was in here or she can’t possibly imagine that he’d be the one I’m sleeping with.
“Where is he?” I ask.
Tony’s face softens. “In his office,” he says, offering me a smile. “Go talk to him, I’ll look after your friend.”
I nod, grateful as I turn to Sarah and tell her I’ll be back in a second. Tony chuckles at my explanation as though it’s not even close to being true. As I walk back towards his office, a part of me wonders what I’m going to find in there. I know I’ve been busy for most of the week, but I’m here now, surely that’s got to count for something.
The corridor to the back is only dimly lit and as I turn to walk into Nick’s office, the door opens and he comes rushing out, the two of us crashing together.
“Shit, sorry, are you…” Nick stops, his eyes locking onto mine as his hands grip my arms, his fingers digging into me. “Jesus, Emma,” he breathes out, his eyes roving all over my body as he pulls me back into his office and slams the door shut behind us.
“Hey,” I say, trying to take a step back.
“Hey?” he repeats back to me, the concern apparently gone and replaced by something far worse now. “‘Hey?’ That’s all you can say to me?”
I look up at him, confused. “What? What are you talking about?”
It’s Nick who steps back from me now, crossing his arms over his chest as he stares down at me. I’m suddenly grateful for the closed door to his office, for that fact that Sarah doesn’t have to see this.
“You texted me over two hours ago, Emma,” he says. “Over two hours ago you texted to say you were on your way.” He stops, as though waiting for me to say something. When I don’t, he shakes his head before continuing. “And then nothing. Radio fucking silence while I’m stuck here wondering what the fuck has happened to you?”
I swallow, not quite getting why he’s so worked up about this. “I got held up,” I say, shrugging. “I’m sorry, I sent you a text.”
Nick lets out a half laugh, but there’s no humour in it. “You got held up?” he says, incredulously. “And what text?”
“I sent it maybe five minutes ago,” I say.
“Well I didn’t get it,” Nick says, staring at me. “So I’ve had no idea if you were okay or what the hell was going on.”
“Of course I’m okay,” I say. “And you really didn’t get the text?” I pull my phone from my bag but as soon as I open it, I can see the message, still sitting there, waiting to be sent. Shit.
“Jesus, Emma,” he says, throwing his arms up in annoyance or frustration as he turns away from me.
I watch as he runs rough hands through his hair, his fingers ripping the band that holds it all back out before twisting it back in place. I can’t see his face anymore, but his body language is screaming barely contained anger. I take a cautious step towards him, unsure about what I’m supposed to do here. Confused as to why he’s overreacting to this.
“Nick,” I say, placing a tentative hand on his back. He stiffens beneath me and I immediately drop my hand. “I’m sorry, okay? I honestly thought my text had gone through. I see now it hasn’t, but I really don’t get what’s going on here.”
I watch as his hands drop to his sides, his head falling. He doesn’t turn around and the longer I’m forced to stare at his back, the more I’m starting to wonder if this isn’t a huge mistake. That despite everything he said to me that first morning, in only a week we’ve already hit our first roadblock and it’s turning into a total disaster. A disaster that can only mean the end, just like every other time I’ve tried to do this.
“You can’t text and tell me you’re on your way,” he finally says, the words barely audible against the background music that’s leaking in from the bar. “You can’t text and say that and then take two fucking hours to actually get here.” He finally turns, a look that I can’t read on his face as his eyes meet mine.
“I thought I’d texted you again,” I whisper, knowing it doesn’t matter because he never received it.
“I was worried about you, Emma,” he says, ignoring my words as he reaches for my hand. “I didn’t know if something had happened to you or...”
His fingers thread through mine, a tiny sliver of heat shooting up my arm, even despite all the animosity between us. I tighten my hand in his, taking a tiny step closer.
“You were worried about me?” I ask.
“Fuck, of course I was, Emma,” he breathes out, closing the gap as he crashes his mouth against mine. The kiss is hard and intense and feels like it has nothing to do with the fact that it’s been almost a week since we’ve seen each other and everything to do with whatever it is that’s going on with him tonight.
“You can’t do that to me, Em,” he whispers, his voice softer as he pulls back a little. A hand slides onto my cheek, cupping my jaw as he tilts my face to his. “You can’t just let me sit here and wonder what’s happened to you. I…I’m not…” He pauses, as though he doesn’t know what he wants to say. “I’m not trying to control you, okay, that’s not what this is about. But I can’t be here and be worried about wherever you are, especially when I haven’t heard from you for hours after… You gotta let me know, okay…seriously.”
I stare up him, at the warring emotions on his face that seem to come from a place far darker than the one we are currently in. Why is he reacting like this? Why is this all such a big deal to him?
“Please,” he says, pulling away again as he walks over to his desk and sits on the corner. “Please just let me know next time, okay?”
I watch him; watch as his fingers absently play with the photo on his desk, straightening it even though it’s not out of place. Nick stares back at me, oblivious to what he’s doing. But as I watch him, watch the anguish as it slowly drains from his face, it hits me, why he reacted like this.
I smile at him, stepping closer until I’m standing between his legs. His eyes never leave mine, even as I still his hand, remove it from the picture and lift it to my lips.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, pressing a kiss to his palm. “This…this is all new to me, remember? I told you I’m not good at it. But I promise,” I add, pressing a kiss to his lips now. “I promise next time I’ll let you know when I’m running late.”
Nick nods, not saying another word as he pulls me against him and kisses me. It’s different this time, still intense but in a softer way, as though he’s apologising for his reaction. A reaction I didn’t understand at first, but which I now do. As his arms slide around my waist, pulling me closer, I can’t help but wonder what happened to her.
What happened to Amy to cause Nick this much grief?