Page 83 of Strictly Business
“She wants to be left alone, Knox.”
“How do you know?”
“I just do.”
“Doesn’t seem very Finn Sheffield of you to give up this easy.”
“I’m not giving up,” I say hailing a cab. “Not yet. I’m just giving her some space.” When Michaela didn’t show up today, I took that as my sign to wait until next weekend. We’d be in the same place to celebrate Nick and Nina’s wedding, and she wouldn’t be able to avoid me all weekend. I’d wait until after the wedding, of course, because I wouldn’t take away from Nick and Nina, but I refused to let Michaela leave without talking to me.
Chapter Forty-Four
MICHAELA
BUTTERFLIES ERUPTED IN MY stomach the second the cab stopped in front of SoHo House Chicago, and they have only gotten more irritated as the elevator doors finally draw open. My feet drag, my body trying to avoid the conversation awaiting me on the other side of the door at the end of the hall. She’s going to have questions, a lot of them. I don’t have the answers — I’m still trying to process it myself. So much has happened in the last two weeks.
I contemplate turning and running when I reach the door, but I can’t. I have to do this. A moment after I knock, the door swings open to reveal Nina with the phone pressed to her ear, “Mic! What are you doing here?”
I chew on the corner of my bottom lip, “I need to talk to you.”
Her smile falters slightly recognizing my tone of voice. “Fossette,” Nina says into the phone before relaying some message in Italian alongside my name. She retreats into the room to grab her blazer from the arm of the couch. “Sì, sì, sì,” she agrees after a moment, “ti amo.” She hangs up and turns to me. “I was about to grab some dinner. You hungry?”
“Nin, I—”
“I have a feeling this conversation is going to call for carbs and wine. Am I wrong?” I swear she can see right through me. When I don’t respond, she nods. “Thought so.”
As the waitress walks away, the pit reforms in my stomach. It feels like deja vu sitting across from Nina, the quirk of her eyebrow beckons me to start the conversation, but I suddenly feel nauseous. I hate the thought of disappointing her more than I already have. Isn’t that why I’m here? To avoid doing just that. “I’m leaving the company,” it comes out as a whisper. I almost don’t hear myself, but I know she does from her sigh.
She swirls the red liquid in her glass. “I wanted to talk to you about that.”
“You decided to go ahead and fire me?”
Nina laughs, “No. No, not firing you. Listen, I love having you work on designs, but Mic, I know you’re not happy. You did a great job with Finn; the change of pace was everything you needed to get back on your feet. I think you’d be happy working full-time at Villa Inc. That’s what Kai and I wanted to discuss in the meeting you postponed. We wanted to offer you a consulting or developmental team position.”
“No.”
Nina’s head tilts ever so slightly like she’s trying to make sure she heard right. “No?”
“I’m leaving, as in everything…DV Designs…Villa Incorporated…New York.”
“You’re leaving New York.” She repeats my statement and her eyes narrow slightly tossing the idea around her mind. “And where are you going?”
The words get stuck in my throat, but I force it out. “Washington.”
Nina takes a long sip of her wine, “What’s in Washington?”
“Nina—”
“Michaela. What’s in Washington?” She annunciates each word perfectly.
“David,” I whisper and half expect her to react, but she doesn’t. Her fingers trace the rim of the glass as she lets his name sink in.
“Michaela…”
“He’s my husband, Nina. I need to—”
“You were in love with Finn not even two weeks ago,” Nina says and I roll my eyes.
“I wasn’t in love with him.”