Nixie

The City Clerk didn’t lift her head as Derrick handed over the paperwork we’d hastily filled out in the waiting room, along with the wrinkled check he pulled from his pocket. I had to look away as she input our information into the computer hulking on her desk, each click of the keyboard like a hammer sealing my fate. The cavernous reception room was filled with at least a dozen other couples, in various stages of pre-marital bliss, bent over clipboards with their arms intertwined, sides pressed together as if superglued. Bright chandeliers hung overhead every few feet, shining on polished floors of green and ecru marble tiles. Leather benches lined walls that had also been tiled in marble.

Scattered on every surface were brochures extolling the virtues of a city hall wedding—”Watch out Vegas, Everything’s Better in New York!”—and detailing the recent extensive renovations. I could have recited it verbatim. Normally I wouldn’t have bothered reading the tri-fold piece of obvious promotion, but since my other option was to make conversation with Derrick or any of the lovebirds surrounding us, I read every word and studied every photo. Multiple times.

The new Marriage Bureau was impressive, and austere. And despite the twelve million dollar overhaul, probably the least romantic setting I could imagine.

“You’re all set to marry as soon as this time tomorrow,” the Clerk with close cropped, curling hair and a heavy Long Island accent said, stamping our papers and pushing them back across the gleaming white surface of her desk. Her tweezed eyebrows lifted as she glowered at Derrick. “Now just remember,” she added, “happy wife, happy life,” before turning to me with a conspiratorial wink. “Trying to do my part to lower the divorce rate. Not all men have the sense to listen, but I always try.”

For a moment I considered confessing the truth—that I was only here because I hadn’t thought of a way out. Yet. Derrick wasn’t holding onto me anymore, I could walk away. But if Pappi was in danger and giving up my inheritance would keep him safe, walking away wasn’t an option.

I dredged up a weary smile. “No such thing as a lost cause, right?”

She gave a derisive huff. “My sister in law works at the Matrimonial Support office just down the street—where you go to file for divorce. Now there—that place is filled with lost causes. But here—” She waved her hand around the renovated room that could have been inspired by the lobby of a Las Vegas casino. “I like to think of all my couples as taking their first steps toward happily ever after.”

There was genuine pride on the clerk’s face as she summarized her role, and guilt thrummed through my bloodstream like lead. Derrick and I were not now, nor would we ever be, one of her happy couples. If I’d been here with Nash, I might have at least had hope for a happy ending. Or maybe not. Not after what I’d learned last night. Tears pricked my eyes as I nodded, unable to say anything else.

Derrick mumbled a gruff word of thanks and hustled me out of the room, his booted feet slapping at the marble.

Ten minutes later we were checking into a nearby downtown hotel as Mr. and Mrs. Attwood. I pressed my palms against my stomach as it threatened revolt and Derrick glanced down at me, his eyes brewing with warning.

Once the door to the elevator closed on us, he raked a hand through hair that had been too long without a barber. “Can you stop flashing your sad doe eyes at everyone who looks your way? You think I want to be doing this?”

As the car jerked upward, I turned away from the flashing numbers on the wall panel and looked straight at Derrick. “I really need to make a call, arrange for someone to feed my dog, take her out for a walk.” Get a message to Nash.

He scoffed. “So she’ll shit on the floor. I’m sure Knight can pay someone to clean it up.”

“Please—”

Derrick’s jaw clenched as the doors opened with a jarring buzz. “Enough. He knows you have a dog, and that you’re gone. She’ll be fine.”

I got out first and stepped aside. Derrick was right, Nash would make sure Kismet was taken care of. I would have to take care of myself.

Derrick led the way to our home for the night. His walk was so different than Nash’s, more like the loping gait of a gangly teenager than the smooth stride of a confident power-broker. I was still upset with Nash, but I knew without the slightest sliver of doubt that he never would have gotten into a mess like this. Was it too much to hope that he was planning on telling me the truth of his motives before our dinner? Because the more time I spent with Derrick, the more I realized they were nothing alike.

In Bermuda, Reina told me that Wall Street players were gamblers, too. But Nash would never make a bet he couldn’t afford to lose. Unfortunately, Derrick didn’t have the self-control to know when to get up from the table.

Once in our room, Derrick immediately turned on the television and sat at the edge of the bed with the remote in his hand, flipping through channels until he stopped on a basketball game. Catching sight of his face, I stared, incredulous. “Please don’t tell me you have money riding on this?”

Derrick blinked, but didn’t tear his eyes from the screen. “Just a little. It’s no big deal.”

“Who even gives you credit anymore?” I cried.

Instead of an answer, he shushed me, jumping to his feet a moment later to yell at the referee through the screen. Again, an image of Nash sprang to my mind. He was probably looking for me right now. An hour ago I’d been furious with him, but now? Now my emotions had softened. Remembering the cracked phone I’d abandoned in Central Park, I wondered if Nash had found it. Or had someone picked it up and answered his call?

Nash, my knight in shining armor who insisted his cape was black despite it being as white as his perfect teeth. He was looking for me, I was sure of it. But the only thing that made me angrier than sitting by Derrick’s side, watching him berate the refs from a mattress, was waiting helplessly to be rescued.

Truthfully, even if Derrick got his hands on my inheritance tomorrow, the chance of him using it to pay off his debts and not get in deep again were slim to none. There would always be the next sure thing, the unbeatable hand, the big score that he couldn’t resist. Derrick would never stop gambling, and handing him my inheritance would be about as effective as dumping it in the Hudson River. A complete waste.

And Pappi would never be safe.

Derrick sat back down, beads of sweat breaking out on his forehead. I was still standing in the corridor that led to the bedroom, a bathroom to one side, closet on the other. “Mind if I take a shower?” I asked, careful to keep my tone nonchalant.

“Go ahead,” he snapped, not even glancing my way. Having sat through hundreds of games with Derrick, I knew it was only a matter of time before his whooping or cursing began in earnest. When that happened, he wouldn’t notice if a bomb went off, unless the TV lost power. I turned on the water, and waited.

It didn’t take long, not even ten minutes. From what I could tell, a fight broke out and a key player from the team Derrick had bet money on was ejected. Derrick went ballistic, ranting and raving at the wide screen attached to the wall just two feet from his reddened face.

I was out the door and down the hall in seconds, Derrick’s unbroken tirade still ringing in my ears. Choosing stairs over the elevator, I sprinted down the dozen flights, my footsteps pounding faster than my heartbeat.

After speed-walking across the marble floor of the lobby, I dodged cars and cabs and crossed the street to Columbus Park. Once inside the gates, I increased my pace and blended in with the late afternoon joggers running along the footpath. The park was fairly small, and filled with elderly Asian men bent over games of mah-jongg, women pushing strollers, and street performers hoping to draw an afternoon crowd. Resisting the urge to look over my shoulder, I exited the park on the other side and continued jogging in the direction of the courthouse. The Chambers Street subway station was just a few blocks away.

Outside the City Clerk’s office building, a couple was posing for pictures beside the plaque for the Marriage Bureau, their happy laughter biting at my heels as I rushed past them. I had one foot in the crosswalk when a black Lincoln Navigator careened around the corner and screeched to a halt right outside the entrance.

Nash jumped out, followed by Jay, and ran inside. With my heart in my throat, I resisted the instinct to scream Nash’s name and take off running toward him. Instead I kept walking until the sidewalk gave way to a set of stairs, brushing away the tears falling unchecked down my face. Hot, stale air rushed up at me as I slid my MetroCard through the turnstile reader and found a place on the platform.

I couldn’t leap into Nash’s arms. Not yet. Just because he was wealthy and powerful, it didn’t mean I should dump all my problems squarely on his shoulders. Was I glad he’d followed me into that dark alley back on September 11? Yes. But I hated the rut we’d been in ever since. This pattern of me rushing headlong into trouble and then standing idly by while he came to my rescue had to end. And it was going to end today.

* * *

To most, New York’s Penn Station was Grand Central Station’s buck-toothed, ugly stepchild. It did, however, have an advantage that I appreciated today—the low-ceiling underground tunnels were like narrow, crowded catacombs. I spent the time until my train blending in with larger groups, occasionally ducking into the tiny storefronts hawking overpriced souvenirs and snacks, checking for Derrick’s familiar face in the sea of commuters.

Forty minutes after leaving Penn, I arrived in Manhasset, the affluent Long Island suburb where I’d spent half my childhood, wrapping my coat around me for the short walk to Pappi’s house. The clapboard colonial was located in the middle of the block; black shutters and a red front door giving the simple white facade a welcoming appearance.

From the moment I entered his house sixteen years ago, that’s exactly what Pappi had done for me, too. He’d welcomed me into his life, into his heart. And I’d let Derrick chase me away. Standing on the sidewalk, chilled to the bone, I felt like a coward.

Pappi had never treated me like I was intruding on his time with Derrick. The opposite, actually. His wife had left him and Derrick not long before, and somehow he’d stepped into the role of both mother and father to the two of us. We became a family.

My stomach churning, I dragged one foot in front of the other until I made it to the steps leading to his porch. My hands were tucked into fists inside my pockets, shoulders hunched forward against the gusting wind. The air had a tingle to it, like the first snowfall of the year was imminent. I didn’t have a chance to ring the bell before the door was thrown open and Pappi was there, his arms extended in welcome, a warm grin splitting his face in two.

I hurtled into his arms, my hands wrapping around him as I nudged my forehead into his rounded shoulders. Without a word exchanged, Pappi closed the door and drew me into a warm hug. “Sshhh,” he finally whispered, “Let’s go sit so you can tell me about all of your adventures.”

Tears blurred my vision as I pulled away. “You don’t hate me for leaving?”

He set his palms on my cheeks, thumbs swiping at the rivers running down them. “You know I can never stay mad at this face.”

I choked out a laugh. No matter what teenaged prank I’d pulled, usually at Derrick’s urging, that had always been Pappi’s response. Which isn’t to say he’d let me run wild. There were always consequences, but never anger.

“What do you say I make us some hot chocolate?” He raised bushy eyebrows. “Maybe with a shot of Kahlua?”

Nodding, I followed him into the living room. A fire was burning in the hearth, and there were papers scattered on the desk facing the window. I waved a hand in its direction. “I take it you saw me from here?”

“Yes. And for a minute I thought you were going to turn tail and run back in the direction you came from.”

I ducked my head sheepishly. “Sorry about that. Nerves.”

He steered me toward the overstuffed chair closest to the mantel. “You park your nerves right here while I go make our drinks.”

Sinking into the paisley velvet, I ran my hands over well-worn fabric that had seen many a wintry afternoon marked by hot chocolate and s’mores, staring into the flames and seeing only memories. Good ones.

From the kitchen, I heard Pappi opening and closing cabinets, pots clanking, and the low rumble of his voice. I smiled, having forgotten his habit of talking to himself. He returned a few minutes later, carrying a tray with two mugs and a plate of cookies. “Thin Mints and Samoas? I haven’t had these since I was in the Girl Scouts.”

Pappi grinned. “A new family moved in next door. Their daughter came knocking and I couldn’t resist.”

I laughed. Pappi had singlehandedly made me one of the top sellers every year. I think he donated most of the boxes to the local firehouse, but we always had enough Thin Mints and Samoas in our kitchen to last all year. “I’m glad there’s someone to supply you with your sugar fix.”

“You may be,” he grimaced, spreading his hands on a belly that had grown significantly larger over the past few years, “but my doctor isn’t too keen. More fruits and vegetables, he says. Less meat and sweets. What’s the fun in that?”

I reached for my steaming cup, managing a sip through the cloud of whipped cream floating on top. Delicious. “No, no fun at all.” Wrapping my palms around the mug, I felt warm inside and out, in a way I hadn’t in too long to remember. “I was wrong to run, and I’m so, so sorry.” My voice cracked as I forced myself to maintain eye contact with Pappi.

“Are you ready to tell me why?” Forgiveness and empathy bled from every syllable.

“I am. Although my reasons are shameful. Reason, actually. I was afraid if I told you what I’d learned,” my throat closed up and I took another sip of the spiked hot chocolate, wishing I’d asked for a straight shot of Kahlua instead, “about D—Derrick, that you would just want to kill the messenger.”

Pappi leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. “First of all, you’re not a messenger. I love you like a daughter, Noelle. No one, not even my son, can ever change that.” A fragile smile trembled on my lips as he continued. “And second, there’s nothing you can tell me about Derrick that I don’t already know.”

My stomach plummeted. Of course there was. And it would break his heart. “I wish that was true.”

“I have a confession to make, too, Noelle.” Before I could stop him, he continued. “I knew that Derrick was using his debts as justification for marrying you. I would never have let that happen, though. I swear it.”

I pulled back, confusion seeping from my pores. “I don’t understand.”

“Derrick is an addict. A gambling addict. I know that. I’ve known it for years. It’s in his blood, I’m afraid.”

“You gamble?” I rubbed at the deep frown denting my forehead. I’d never known Pappi to so much as play in a neighborhood poker game.

“How do you think your father and I met?” He shook his head, eyes staring unseeingly at the fire as his tone became introspective. “We met at the tables in Atlantic City, back when the place was a real hot spot and traveling to Vegas wasn’t nearly as cheap, or as easy. We both liked to play blackjack, and were pretty good at keeping track of the cards, at least until they started dealing with five decks. Your father and I became friends, and then business partners.”

“I had no idea,” I said, breathing the words on a sigh.

“We turned our skill at the casinos into the initial bankroll for our business. Mostly, we were day traders. We had our ups and downs together, nearly went bankrupt in the early nineties. Got into tech when the craze was just beginning. We rode that wave right until the end, putting all our eggs into the NASDAQ basket. Didn’t realize it was a bubble until it burst.”

“When September 11 hit, we were nearly bankrupt again. My wife took off, but your mother, may she rest in peace, never complained. Said she had complete faith in us that we’d right the ship again. Even when your dad and I couldn’t see the light at the end of the tunnel, when I was about to lose this house, she never let us think of ourselves as failures.” Pappi turned his eyes on me. They were a rich chestnut, like his son’s, but edged in a softer, lighter brown that shined with warmth. “I figured Derrick would outgrow the destructive side of his gambling addiction, learn how to put his appetite for risk to good use in the markets, like we did. And I hoped he would have a woman by his side who would love and support him, like your mother did for your father. I didn’t want him to be unlucky in love, like I was. I wanted to insulate him from the loneliness of that, I guess.”

“But, his debts, the men that are after him. We’re not safe.”

He gave me a long, searching look. “Did you know that your mother used to do our books?”

I shook my head. There was so much I didn’t know about my parents.

“Well, she did. And even when we weren’t sure how we were going to pay the rent on our office, or the mortgage on our houses, she made sure we paid our taxes, and our insurance. When your father died, that insurance money let me pay off our accumulated business debt and start with a clean slate. I didn’t take as many risks, but over the years I did all right. Well enough to take care of you and Derrick without cutting into the money your parents left, and since my ex remarried, her new husband took care of her. Anyway, I’ve always paid off Derrick’s debts to his bookies, the casinos, the loan sharks—under the condition that they never tell him. I had hoped that he would see how quickly debt grows. How small time bets can become huge disasters practically overnight.” Pappi grimaced. “He didn’t though, so I sent him to a gambling rehab center. While he was there I spread the word that Derrick was to be cut off.”

“But you didn’t tell Derrick.”

“No. All of you young people, you think you invented the wheel. Let me tell you, I’ve been around the block, too. Some of the men Derrick got involved with, they may be criminals, but they’re still men. A stock tip here, a recommendation there, always having enough cash to settle the score—that goes a long way. Derrick may have been their customer, but I was footing his bills. And so they were good to me. Fresh out of rehab, Derrick couldn’t help himself, he went to the tables. I asked for him to get the scare of his life, expecting him to finally come to me. Not to elope with you so he could get his hands on your inheritance.” A shuddering breath dribbled from Pappi’s pursed lips. “My plan backfired. I’m sorry, Noelle.”

I was reeling. All this time, Pappi had known. He hadn’t cut Derrick off, hadn’t been blind to his son’s gambling. He’d simply been biding his time, hoping Derrick would grow up. It never occurred to him that I would get caught in the crossfire. “Have you—”

“Talked to Derrick? Yes. A friend told me about the marriage license you applied for this afternoon. It was a simple matter to find out that he’d checked into a hotel. I made some calls and he’s on his way to another rehab facility now. I promise, Derrick won’t ever frighten you again.”

“I hate to say this, but I think he found someone you don’t know to take his bets. That’s how I left without Derrick noticing, he was losing . . .” My voice trailed off as I read Pappi’s expression. “You already knew about it?”

“Yes, that bet went nowhere. Derrick might think he can find someone willing to take his bets, but he can’t. Not anymore. I even have an alert on his credit cards to deny authorization to any known gambling website.”

I reached out a hand, giving Pappi’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. “I’m sorry.”

He huffed a sad sigh. “Thank you, Noelle. One day you’ll be a parent, too. You’ll understand the lengths you go to keep your children safe. Even from themselves.”

“He’s lucky to have you, and I’m glad he’s safe. Even though I’m not in love with Derrick anymore, I will always love him.”

“I know that, too. And although a part of me aches that my son isn’t man enough to deserve you, the other part of me is damn proud that you struck out on your own. Took a risk and carved your own path.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you where I was. I was worried that if I called and heard your voice, I would run right back here.”

“Don’t worry about me. It took a few days, but I’ve been keeping tabs.”

“Days? You’ve known where I was this whole time?”

“Of course. The police were no help since you were of age. But I had a private detective hot on your trail within hours. I would have gone crazy otherwise.” He shot me the aggrieved father look. “Although letting you stay in that rat-trap apartment in Brooklyn was the toughest thing I’ve ever had to do, let me tell you.”

If Pappi knew about my apartment, he had to know about—

The jarring ring of the doorbell had me swinging my head toward the window overlooking the front of the house. A familiar black Navigator was parked at the curb. “The friend you mentioned earlier, that was Nash?”

“Yes. I went to see him after learning of your engagement.”

I lowered my head, ashamed I hadn’t been the one to tell him. “I’m sorry.”

Pappi rose from his chair, knees creaking as he walked to the foyer. “Don’t be. We’ve both kept our share of secrets, haven’t we?”

There was a rush of cold air as Pappi opened the front door, followed by a swift handshake that was an immediate giveaway of a previous meeting. And then Nash stepped over the threshold, his gorgeous face coming into view. Heat exploded in my chest, spraying a toxic plume of grief through my chest cavity.

Because now that the threat of Derrick was neutralized, I had no reason to marry him. And judging from how well our dinner with Mack Duncan went, I wouldn’t be at all surprised if he chose to sell his business to Nash whether we were married or not.

Nash was probably just here to say goodbye.