Page 13 of Kid
Hell, everything about Nella Ortiz turned me on.
After I’d managed to drop two glasses, watched them shatter to a million pieces on the ground, I knew it was time to walk away. I cleaned up my mess and handed the ropes over to the bartender for the evening. He was new but came with a lot of experience.
I drove through dense traffic to park in front of Nella’s office building. If there was no other way to get a hold of her, at work would have to do.
My mind would hold me hostage until I cleared the air. I turned off the engine and pulled out my cell.
While it rang, I looked around.
The parking lot seemed full, and people in suits went to and fro.
I wasn’t sure why she was still working in the software industry. She made plenty of money working with Chelsea.
“Nella Ortiz.”
“I’m outside,” I said simply.
“Why?”
“We need to talk.” I told her and hung up.
I was leaning against my car, ankles crossed when she exited the glass doors. Nella stopped then and began picking at the corners of her nails. Sure, I didn’t tell her I was coming, but why so nervous?
Eventually, she made her way to stand in front of me.
“I take it you had a talk with your girlfriend.” Her voice was stronger than her eyes let on. “Before you go off the rails, let me get a few things out of the way. Yes, I hit her. And I’d do it again.”
I loved a woman who was nervous but still held herself strong. But I was also the kind of man who wanted to feel needed by his woman. Call it selfish or vanity—but there were certain things a man should be able to do for the woman he claimed.
But I hadn’t claimed Nella—she didn’t want me to—did she?
I removed my sunglasses, folded them and hooked one of the arms in the neck of my graphic shirt. This was a conversation I needed her to see my eyes. I needed to see all the meaning in them.
“That’s not why I’m here.”
“Okay.” Nella folded her arms across her chest. “Then why are you here?”
“Is there something you want to say to me?” I asked, keeping my stare on her.
“I’m not apologizing for defending myself.” Nella snapped. “So, if that’s why you’re—”
“I’m not here for a fucking apology!”
“Then, I don’t understand the question.”
“Yes, you do.” My gaze never once wavered. “I never saw you as a woman who beat around the bush, Nella. A woman who played games—I’m not playing one right now. I know you understand me perfectly fine.”
For a while she said nothing.
“Let me ask you again.” I cleared my throat. “Is there something you want to say to me?”
She shook her head. “Then—no.”
“And you’re sure?”
“I’m sure.”
I paused for a moment, watching her face. When I looked down, she had the fingers of both hands laced together and squeezing until her joints were white. I met her eyes again, and she swallowed.
