Elastic Hearts (Hearts #3)(69)

“I don’t understand why you don’t come and work with me,” he said.

I chuckled at the thought, but got serious quickly. “One of us would be dead by the end of the first week. Now, give me the f*cker’s name, and while you’re at it, I’m going to need a favor from a mutual friend of ours.”





NORMALLY I WASN’T one to dwell on reasons guys hadn’t called before their three-day quota, but with Victor it was all I could think about, mainly because he wasn’t the type of guy who played by any rules. I’d spoken to him just briefly after our weekend together and I’d been busy when he called, so it couldn’t even be considered a conversation. Over the weekend, half of the wardrobe on the movie set had been messed up, and luckily I was insanely busy working with two seamstresses to get caught up in making everything. Still, when I got home and soaked my hands in ice-cold water because they hurt so much from sewing non-stop, all I could think about was Victor. My phone finally rang with a call from him when I got home from work that night. I was soaking my hands in iced water, stumbling and spilling it everywhere to answer it.

“Hey,” he said, his voice making me lose my breath momentarily.

“You really stuck to the three-day rule,” I said. He was quiet for a beat.

“Sorry. I’ve been busy.”

“So have I.”

“Yeah, my mom said you left the car there until the next morning because you’d gotten out of work too late to call,” he said. “I need you to come into the office to sign the final papers so we can put this divorce behind you. Are you free tomorrow morning?” His voice was serious, all business, all Victor. I sighed.

“Sure. What time?”

“Nine?”

“I’ll be there.”

“Good,” he said, pausing to clear his throat. “And . . . you’re good? Everything is going okay?”

I made a face. He couldn’t see me, but he was acting really f*cking weird. I chalked it up to his fear of everything being recorded. The guy swore he was Richard Nixon or something.

“I’m fine. See you tomorrow, Victor.”

“Looking forward to it, Nicole.” The way he said that made me stomach flip. Maybe I was just worrying for no reason. We were good. We were fine, and he said he was looking forward to seeing me.

When I woke up the following morning, my entire body ached. My hands, my head, my throat, and I was pretty sure I had a fever. I could barely open my eyes, and when I did I realized it was eight forty and I was going to be late. Before showering, I called Marcus because there was no way I could drive like that. By the time I finished getting ready, he was standing outside, his mouth dropping when he saw me.

“You look tired.”

“Thanks,” I muttered. At least he found a nice way to tell me I looked like crap. “We should be quick, and the quicker we go, the quicker I get back to bed.”

“Okay.”

He didn’t make small talk. Shocker. And for once I was completely glad for the silence in the car, which I think was a shock to him. He kept looking over, probably to make sure I was okay, but I was too busy blowing my nose and trying to keep my snot from going everywhere to care. I’m pretty sure he was completely disgusted by the time we reached Victor’s office.

As soon as we got there, paparazzi swarmed my car.

“What the hell happened now?” I asked, my voice nasally in my own ears.

“Stay in the car. I’ll go around,” Marcus said.

I did as I was told and kept my head down as he walked me to the front door. I couldn’t even make out their questions because of the pounding in my ears, but I did catch Victor’s name, which further confused me.

“What were they saying?” I asked Marcus as I buried my nose in a tissue.

He frowned. “I didn’t really understand them.”

“Me either.”

When I stepped out of the elevator, Grace looked at me with wide eyes and an open mouth. The last time she gave me that look was when rumors about my divorce began circulating. I smiled and waved at her as I walked down the hall, because even if I had time for her crap, I didn’t feel like dealing with it today. Marcus stayed behind as I walked up to Victor’s door and knocked. It opened and Corinne stepped out. She gave me a quick once-over and smiled.

“He’s on the phone, but you can go in.”

“Thanks,” I said, stepping in as she stepped out.

My blood was vibrating with nervousness. I’d been there a million times, but it felt different, though I couldn’t quite put a finger on why. Was it because of what we’d shared? Would things be weird now? Would he be weird toward me? Would I be awkward? We’d had sex, yes. Like in the past. But not like in the past. It felt like more. Something about what had been going on between us even before we hooked up this time felt like more. And he’d said he had the final papers. The final papers.

Victor straightened in his chair when he saw me. His eyes searching my face, wandering down my body and back up in a slow caress that made my breath hitch. Whatever Mr. Perfect saw now when I was makeup-less and wearing sweats was definitely good, because he was eyeing me the same way he did when I was in a skintight dress. I plopped down in the chair across from him and put my arms on the table to lay my head down, hoping to relieve the pounding in my head, because despite his very wanted attention, I felt beyond sick and very exhausted.