More Than Words(56)

“I’m sorry,” Nina said to Rafael. She was worried that something bad had happened to TJ or to Caro—or to Tim himself. “I need to pick this up.”

“Are you okay?” Nina said when she answered the phone.

“What in the hell is going on?” Tim replied. “Twitter just told me that you’re cheating on me. With your ex-boss, in fact. Please tell me Twitter is wrong.”

Nina looked over at Rafael.

Was she going to lie to Tim? Or finally be honest about her feelings for someone else?

“It’s wrong,” she said. “I’ll be right over.”

In her heart, all she could think was: Joseph Gregory’s Daughter Follows in Her Father’s Footsteps.





53



All through the taxi ride to Tim’s apartment, Nina kept trying to figure out what to say to him, how to say it. She’d told Rafael that a picture of them was posted on Twitter, and she was really sorry, but she had to go. They’d talk tomorrow, she’d said. She’d told him that in spite of the crazy photographer and the way it ended, this was the best night she’d had in a long while. And then she’d hailed a cab and asked the driver to take the quickest route to East 10th Street.

I wasn’t cheating, she would say. Which was true. They didn’t kiss. They’d kept their clothes on.

It was just a business dinner. Which was also true. It was. They’d been in the office and went to get a burger. It wasn’t a big deal. As a working woman, as the head of the Gregory Corporation, she’d have business dinners all the time. Tim would understand that. He’d have to understand that.

But she knew it wasn’t just a business dinner. She knew it was more. And she knew she wanted to do it again. She wanted to sit with Rafael. And talk with him. Lean her head against his shoulder. Touch her skin to his. The way she felt when she was with Rafael was so different from how she felt with Tim. The spark, the zing. The freedom.

Nina pulled up the web browser on her phone and Googled her name and Rafael’s together. The first thing that popped up was a photograph of the two of them, holding hands and running toward the kitchen at the Dublin Pub. She was looking at him, and he was glancing at her over his shoulder. There were grins on both of their faces.

She clicked on the photograph, and a headline came up: The Princess and the Politician: How Long Have They Been Together? Then underneath that photo was a smaller one of the hug that Samira had tweeted the night of the primary. Rafael’s eyes were closed, his cheek against Nina’s hair. And her arms were so tight around Rafael’s back that her fingers made dimples in his suit jacket. God, was that what they’d looked like? No wonder Tim was so upset. But honestly, why couldn’t the media have just left them alone? Why did anyone care?

Nina went back to the Google search list and clicked on another news outlet. The same original photo was there, the one of them racing into the kitchen, but then next to it was a picture from that ages-ago spread of Nina’s parents in People. This headline said: Rafael O’Connor-Ruiz Looks at Nina Just Like Joseph Gregory Looked at Phoebe. Nina inspected the photo, the expression on Rafael’s face, on her dad’s. And it was true. The awed, amused, adoring look was there for the world to see. Jesus.

Nina’s phone chimed. It was Rafael.

Jane just sent me the links, he wrote. It’s more than Twitter. We’re all over the Internet. I’m really sorry.

Nina stared at her phone. She didn’t know how to respond. This was why her father had created the headline game. This was the worst-case scenario. She opened up the last conversation she had with him. I could use some help here, Dad, she thought. You, too, Mom.

She scrolled through their last weeks of texts, looking for inspiration. How would he have fixed this? What would he have said to create the least amount of damage? She wished she could ask him what to do. And at the same time, she was almost glad he wasn’t here to see his daughter disappoint him so publicly.

Nina pulled a tissue from her purse and tried to blot the tears threatening to overflow her lower lashes. She took a deep breath. Rocks, she thought. Pigeons. Turtles. Grapefruits.



* * *



? ? ?

Nina had gotten her emotions under control by the time the cab pulled up to Tim’s building. The external could be fixed with a press release from the campaign and an announcement of her and Tim’s engagement. If that was what she wanted. But the internal. The feelings she had when she was with Rafael. That was so much harder to figure out.

Nina took the elevator up to Tim’s floor. She could’ve opened his apartment door with her key but felt like she shouldn’t. He’d seemed so upset. So she knocked.

Tim opened the door. “You don’t let yourself in anymore?” he asked.

Nina sighed. Already she’d done the wrong thing. “I didn’t want to surprise you,” she said.

“You mean like how you surprised me by making bedroom eyes at that politician?”

“I wasn’t—” Nina knew getting defensive wouldn’t help, but it was hard not to when Tim was on the attack. This wasn’t a side of him she saw often, but she knew it existed. She’d seen it directed at other people before, but never at her. She took a deep breath. “May I come in?” she asked.

Tim stepped aside. She walked in and sat down on the couch. Tim sat on the love seat, across from her. His body was rigid.