Chapter 56
Nick
shifted his weight from real foot to fake, impatiently watching and waiting as
passengers began to stream out of open doors just a few feet away from where he
was standing. Any minute now, he
told himself. She was sitting in
first class… she had to be one of the first ones off the plane. He craned his neck, hoping to catch a
glimpse of her red hair over the heads of the other people.
Finally, he
saw her. She was walking towards him,
but looking all around – she hadn’t spotted him yet. He watched in anticipation as she paused to
hitch the strap of her carry-on bag higher on her shoulder, and then finally,
her eyes fell upon him. He felt his
breath catch in his throat as her gaze locked with his and she smiled. He smiled back and started towards her; he
couldn’t wait to get his arms around her.
“Hey, you!”
Claire cried cheerfully, letting her bag slide off her shoulder and fall to the
floor next to her as she threw her arms open wide for a hug. Grinning, he pulled her in, holding her close
and savoring the feel of her body against his.
It hadn’t even been three weeks since he’d last seen her, but god, he
had missed her.
“I missed
you so much,” he whispered those words into her ear, resisting the urge to
nuzzle her neck a little. They were standing
in a crowded terminal at LAX, and he knew there were paparazzi lurking. Not wanting to give them too much PDA to
photograph, he settled for a quick kiss on her forehead instead, inhaling the
comforting scent of her shampoo as his lips touched her skin.
“I missed
you too,” she echoed, running a hand up and down his back.
“How was
the flight?” he asked as he eased back, letting her pick up her bag before he
took hold of her hand.
“Very
nice. That first class thing never gets
old for me,” she replied with a smile, as they headed in the direction of the
baggage claim. One of the two bodyguards
who escorted them stopped to wait for Claire’s luggage while the other led Nick
and her straight out to his rental car.
He didn’t
let go of her hand as he drove them back to Howie’s house. “Isn’t it nice out here?” he commented as he
steered the car one-handed along the winding streets of Howie’s gated
community. “I wanted to get a place of
my own in the LA area a few years ago, but I never did. It would be convenient though, considering
I’m out here all the time when we’re working.
The other guys all have houses here.”
“Mm-hm,”
murmured Claire. “Do you mean a second
house? Or are you talking about moving
out here permanently?”
“Second
house,” Nick replied quickly and glanced over at her. “You wouldn’t want to move, would you?”
“All the
way to California? No, not really,” was
her response. He wasn’t at all surprised
by it, knowing he would have one hell of a time trying to persuade her to leave
her job and family and friends in Florida to move to California. It didn’t bother him though. He liked Los Angeles, but he was perfectly
content living in Florida, where he’d grown up.
It was home.
“So anyway,
where’s this Halloween party you’re taking me to tomorrow night?” Claire asked,
interrupting Nick’s silence. He cackled
slyly as he turned onto Howie’s street.
“Oh, you’ll
see,” he told her mysteriously, grinning to himself. He’d promised her a good costume party, and
he wasn’t about to let her down. Claire
was in for a Halloween she’d never forget.
***
“The
Playboy Mansion?? You brought me to a
Halloween party at the Playboy Mansion?!” Claire cried in disbelief as
she gaped up at the extravagant mansion.
Nick’s
mischievous grin gleamed beneath the jutting brim of his three-corner hat. “Told ya this would be a Halloween you’d
never forget.”
“Wow, you
weren’t kidding, were you?” mumbled Claire, shaking her head in awe. She couldn’t believe she was standing in
front of Hugh Hefner’s infamous Playboy mansion, dressed in the most elaborate
Halloween costume she’d ever worn. It
was a colonial-style gown, complete with corset and hoop skirt. It wasn’t the most comfortable dress in the
world – in fact, it was incredibly uncomfortable - but she felt very
elegant in it, like Keira Knightley in Pirates of the Caribbean. And she complimented Nick perfectly.
He was the
Captain Jack Sparrow to her Elizabeth, dressed in a pirate costume that rivaled
Johnny Depp’s. He’d paired a baggy,
ruffled white blouse and vest with a pair of black breeches that went just past
the knee. On his good leg, he wore a
white stocking; on the fake leg, nothing.
“My peg leg,” he called it, and for once, he seemed unembarrassed to
show it in public. He was treating it as
if it were simply a part of the costume.
After
joking about pirates for as long as they had, it seemed only natural to go as Pirates
of the Caribbean characters. Nick
had rented the ornate costumes weeks ago, but they’d still spent the better
part of the afternoon and evening getting ready. AJ’s girlfriend Mary had taken Claire on an
emergency shopping trip to find a pushup bra that would help her fill out the
top of the low-cut dress. She’d also
pinned Claire’s hair up into an elegant twist on top of her head, while AJ had
worked on Nick’s “facial hair,” gluing a scraggly, black goatee to his chin and
filling in the rest with black mascara.
Claire had taken care of his eye makeup, lining his eyes with a thick
layer of black eyeliner and darkening his lashes and brows. The makeup brought out his eyes, making their
cerulean hue even more striking.
The deep,
blood red bandana he wore underneath his captain’s hat and the fake sword
swinging at his hip completed Nick’s costume and made him look, in her opinion,
roguishly handsome. Of course he’d just
blushed and rolled his eyes when she told him that. “I don’t know about me,” he’d said, “but you
really do look beautiful.”
Looking
down at herself now, Claire certainly felt prettier than she usually did – it
was hard not to, in a dress like that – but compared to the other women she saw
streaming into the mansion before her, she felt almost frumpy and not at all
beautiful. She didn’t recognize most of
them at first glance, but they were all gorgeous and dressed in skimpy,
revealing costumes that showed off their statuesque bodies.
“I can’t
believe I’m here,” she whispered, clutching Nick’s arm tightly as she looked
around, taking in everything – the mansion, the grounds, the guests, their
rides…. It was all surreal.
“You can
thank Bone,” replied Nick, nodding to AJ and Mary, who had walked ahead of them
and were already mingling with other guests as they made their way towards the
entrance of the mansion. They had gone
with a medieval theme for their costumes – kind of. AJ was dressed as a sort of knight, but he’d
based his costume more on the one Leonardo DiCaprio had worn in the modernized
version of “Romeo and Juliet” than the awkward, clanking, all-metal sort of
knight Claire had pictured. He was
wearing all gray, with silver chainmail and a silver mask that was currently
strapped to the top of his head rather than his face. Mary, meanwhile, looked like a sexed up
version of a medieval princess, in a rather revealing crushed velvet gown and a
bejeweled, gold tiara, both of which were stunning on her. Together, she and AJ looked amazing. “He’s the one who got us the invite,” Nick
explained. “He’s got good connections.”
He winked,
and Claire laughed; somehow that didn’t surprise her. It was probably the only thing that didn’t
surprise her all night. Everything else
was simply astonishing. First there was
the lavishly decorated interior of the “haunted” mansion, which was bustling
with famous guests, pulsing music, an extravagant spread of food, and a
neverending supply of drinks. Then there
were all the other activities on the grounds outside, from a haunted cemetery
to a ghost walk through the woods, which were teaming with hired actors dressed
up as all sorts of creepy creatures.
Even more
incredible, every time she turned around, she found herself face to face with
another celebrity. She supposed it must
be true that celebrities were like members of an elite club, for Nick seemed to
know them all and always made a point to introduce her as they exchanged
hellos. Before the night had ended,
she’d had encounters with everyone from Leonardo DiCaprio and Gisele Bundchen,
to Justin Timberlake and Cameron Diaz, to Marc Anthony and Jennifer Lopez, as
well as all kinds of barely-dressed Playboy Playmates she didn’t know.
It was
stuffy inside the house, with all the bodies and artificial smoke from smoke
machines billowing about, and Claire could feel sweat starting to run between
her shoulder blades, beneath the heavy material of her gown. She left Nick’s side for a minute to grab a
bottled water, and when she came back, she found him talking to none other than
Tommy Lee, of Motley Crue fame. It was
unbelievable.
“You know
the one good thing about being a celebrity and having gone through all the shit
I have?” Nick muttered to Claire later, as they walked from one room to
another. “Other celebrities who used to
think I was a talentless little pussy – and probably still do – are suddenly
real friendly to my face. Gotta love the
sympathy card.”
Claire
laughed, knowing exactly what he was talking about. “Yeah, well, you know what’s good about being
a nobody and getting to go to a huge celebrity party like this?” she
returned. “I run into celebrities I
don’t even like, and I still get floored over meeting them. Gotta love being starstruck.”
Now it was
Nick’s turn to laugh. “Aww… but you
weren’t starstruck when you met me, were you?”
“That was
different,” replied Claire. “I thought
you were a talentless little pussy.”
“Hey!”
cried Nick, pretending to be offended as he swatted her lightly on the arm.
“Kidding,
kidding,” she grinned, leaning into him.
“Ahh, I can’t wait to get out of this dress!” she moaned. The corset was so tight, it felt like it was
crushing her ribs.
“I can’t
wait to get you out of that dress either,” replied Nick without missing a beat,
waggling his blackened eyebrows suggestively.
Tilting her
chin up, she offered him a flirtatious smile.
“Whenever you’re ready.”
“Seriously? Are you ready to go?”
Looking
around, she shrugged. They’d seen the
sights, mingled with the guests, partaken in the food… they’d done it all. It had been incredible, and yet, she felt out
of place. All this glamour and
extravagance was not for her. Back in
Tampa, her co-workers were gathered at Dr. Somers’s home for their annual staff
Halloween party, where they’d eat cheese and crackers off paper plates decorated
with spiderwebs and drink apple cider out of orange plastic cups. They’d bob for apples and listen to “The
Monster Mash,” and it would be entirely cheesy and lame compared to this, but
if she and Nick had been there instead of here, it would have been perfect
anyway.
“Only if
you are,” she told him. “No rush.”
Nick
offered a shrug as well and replied, “I don’t care if we stay. I’ve had my tricks – now I’m ready for my
treat.” He flashed her another seductive
smile and licked his lips slowly, his tongue lingering outside his mouth.
She grinned
and hooked her arm through his. “Well,
come on then, Captain Sparrow. Let’s
walk the plank.”
He laughed
and agreed, “Aye, m’dear, just lemme find AJ and let him know we’re leavin’ and
that he can take the car. I dunno about
you, but I shouldn’t be driving – we can take a cab.”
Claire
nodded. “Sounds good to me,” she said,
and together, they wove their way through the maze of guests in search of Sir
Alexander and his lady.
***
“I don’t
wanna go back to Florida,” Claire mumbled as she lay in Nick’s arms hours
later, her heavy gown and constricting corset long gone.
“Then
don’t,” Nick replied simply. “I don’t
want you to go back either. Not until I
do.”
“Mm…”
Claire groaned and rolled over onto her stomach, draping herself across his
bare chest. “I wish. You know I can’t do that.”
Nick didn’t
reply, but in his head, he was thinking, Yeah, I know. Your job. He couldn’t understand why she liked it as
much as she did, but she would never leave it, even though his income was more
than enough to offer them both a life of luxury without her contribution. She didn’t need to keep working, but she
insisted on it, as if she couldn’t quite put her full trust in his commitment
to her. I’d never leave you, Claire,
he thought, silently stroking her back, feeling the grooves where the stays of
her corset had dug into her skin. I’ll
always be here to support you, the way you’ve been here for me.
“Nick?” she
asked, and he froze, wondering if he’d been mumbling out loud instead of just
thinking those things. “You got quiet.”
“Oh.” His hand began to move over her back
again. “Sorry. Just thinking.”
“About
what?”
“You.”
She lifted
her head and met his eyes, a smile tugging on her lips. “Me?”
“Uh-huh.” He smiled back. “I love you, you know that?”
She
giggled. “I know that, Nick. I love you too.”
His chest
swelled beneath her warm hands as a contented sigh escaped his throat. He never tired of hearing those words, of
being reassured of her love. There was
no longer a doubt in his mind that she loved him, but it had taken him a long
time to get to that point, not because of her, but because of him. He’d found it hard to believe that any woman,
even Claire, would desire him the way cancer had left him. But she did, and it was her love that had
driven away his insecurities and brought back his confidence in himself. A year ago, he never would have showed up at
a Hollywood party – or anywhere, for that matter – with his artificial leg
exposed for everyone to see. But it had
been a year and a half since he’d lost his leg now, and he’d decided it was
time to show that he was okay with it, that he could even laugh at himself. As far as he could tell, his pirate costume
had been a hit.
“You have
raccoon eyes,” said Claire with a smirk.
“Huh?”
“Raccoon
eyes. Your eye makeup’s smudged all over
the place,” she laughed, reaching up and rubbing her fingertips across the top
of his cheekbones.
He
chuckled, imagining how ridiculous he had to look. “Yeah, guess I should have washed that shit
off before we got all sweaty, huh?” he smirked back.
“Hey,
doesn’t bother me any – you look hot, Cap’n Carter.”
“As do you,
Miss Ryan,” he replied, reaching up to stroke her hair, which had fallen out of
its up-do. “Jeez, in a few months it’ll
be Mrs. Carter, won’t it? Or will
it? Are you taking my name?”
“Of
course,” she grinned. “Claire Carter… I
think it sounds cute, don’t you?”
“Claire
Carter…” he repeated slowly, a smile spreading across his face as the name
rolled off his tongue. “Yeah, I think it
sounds perfect.” He reached down and
picked up her left hand, which was still resting on his chest. Bringing it up to his face, he gently kissed
each knuckle, his lips bumping against her engagement ring. “Beautiful,” he whispered, his eyes traveling
from the ring to her smiling face. He
loved seeing her smile like that. He
hadn’t always thought her beautiful, but she’d always had a nice smile. When it was a genuine one, like now, it lit
up her light blue eyes, making them sparkle almost like the diamonds in her
ring.
“Do you
hear that?” Claire asked suddenly, rolling off of him and rising to her knees
on the bed.
“What?” he
asked, but as soon as the word left his mouth, he heard the muffled strains of
“Quit Playing Games” coming from her purse.
“My cell,”
she said, eyeing her purse. She
hesitated for a moment, then gave him an apologetic shrug and climbed off the
bed.
“Damn,
baby, when you gonna change that ringer of yours?” Nick asked playfully as she
darted over to check her phone. She
didn’t answer, her eyes narrowing as she pulled the phone out of her purse and
looked at the screen. Again, she seemed
to hesitate a second, and then she answered.
“Hello?” She sounded slightly puzzled, or maybe just
surprised. He wondered who was
calling. “I’m fine. How are you?... That’s good…
Uh, not much - how about you?...
Hang out?? Jamie, where are
you??”
At the name
Jamie, Nick shot up into a sitting position and stared at Claire through
narrowed eyes. Jamie? What the hell was he doing calling her at
this hour? It was even later in Iowa, or
wherever the hell he lived.
“What are
you doing in Tampa?!” Claire cried, turning away from Nick so that he found himself
glaring at her back. “Ohh… why didn’t I
know that?... Well, yeah, that’s true,
I guess. So why are you calling me now? Do you have any idea what time it is?... You’ve been drinking, haven’t you?... Jamie, do you know where I am?? Not in Tampa…
No, I’m in Los Angeles! With
Nick!”
Damn right you are, Nick thought with satisfaction. So Jamie was in Tampa? Again?
What was he doing back already?
Not that it mattered… Claire was here, not there. He smiled; funny how that had worked out.
“Yeah, we
went to a Halloween party earlier.
You’ll never guess where.” Claire
turned back around, smiling at Nick.
“No, listen, I’ll tell you later, okay?
I need to go. It’s late. It’s, like, really late for you. Go to bed, okay?” There was a long pause, and then she said,
“Monday… I dunno, Jamie, maybe,
okay? I can’t promise you anything… Okay…
Alright… Talk to ya later. Night.”
She ended the call with the press of a button and stuffed her phone back
into her purse before turning back to Nick.
“What was
that all about?” he demanded instantly.
“Jamie’s in Florida again?”
“Yeah, he
got called back for a second interview with one of the companies he interviewed
with before. It’s on Monday, but he flew
in a few days early to meet up with his buddies over the weekend, it sounds
like. He had probably just gotten in
from partying all night; he sounded trashed.”
“And he
called you. Great,” muttered Nick,
rolling his eyes. What if she had been
in Tampa that weekend, alone, and he had called her after a night of drinking
and wanted to ‘hang out?’ Would she have
gone? What would they have done
together?
“He has no
judgment when he’s drunk. Like anybody
really does. Sorry, I just wanted to
make sure everything was alright. You
never know… you know, when you get calls this late at night.” She shrugged apologetically and crawled back
into bed with Nick. She curled up next
to him, nuzzling into his side, but he was no longer in the mood for cuddling.
“Are you
going to hang out with him when you get back on Monday?” he asked stonily.
“I don’t
know. Probably not. He asked, but I’m sure I’ll be tired from
flying and everything. Besides, with
everything that went down last time he was here…” She sighed. “You don’t want me to hang out
with him, do you?”
“Well, not
particularly, no,” said Nick, none too kindly.
“He’s your ex!”
“He’s my
friend,” she countered firmly.
“Yeah, and
he’d be more than happy to be more than friends with you again if he had the
chance,” muttered Nick.
“What?!”
Claire cried, yanking herself into a sitting position. Glaring down at Nick, she continued rather
venomously, “That’s ridiculous, Nick. We
have been through this! Jamie and I have
been apart for seven years, and we are not getting back together! I’m marrying you. I love you. Not him.
He’s just a friend!”
“Claire,
the guy basically told me he wanted you back!” Nick insisted, remembering bits
and pieces of his exchange with Jamie in his driveway the night he’d cheated on
Claire. You’re pathetic. Claire doesn’t need a gimp like you when she
has me back. “Maybe you don’t see
it, but I do. He still has feelings for
you.”
Claire
gaped at him for a second, her lips slightly parted, and then shook her head,
refusing to believe it. “Oh yeah? When did he tell you that? I didn’t know the two of you had had so many
one-on-one talks,” she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
“Just one,”
he muttered through gritted teeth. “In
the middle of my driveway, the night… the night you had your scare.”
“Oh, the
night you kissed that girl in that bar, you mean? That night?” she asked coolly.
Damn her;
he knew she hadn’t let that go yet.
“Yes, that night,” he glowered, feeling his cheeks redden.
“And you
had been drinking that night, correct?
You drank so much you forgot you were engaged and didn’t realize you had
some girl’s lips all over yours until it was too late, right? If you were that far gone, how would you
remember anything Jamie said to you?”
“I swear,
he did!”
“Or maybe
you just wish he had. It’s like you want
him to have feelings for me so that you’ll have a reason to hate him,” she
accused. “Well, let me tell you
something, Nick; I don’t give a fuck anymore if you like him or hate him, but
you have no reason to be jealous of him.
No matter how he feels about me, I am long over him. I’m with you now, and hanging out with an old
high school buddy isn’t going to change that.”
Nick fumed
silently, refusing to reply. She didn’t
believe him. For some reason, she
couldn’t fathom the idea of Jamie wanting to be with her after all these
years. Well, he sure could. He loved her; he wanted to be
with her. Why wouldn’t Jamie? Claire was an amazing woman, when she was not
acting like a bitch. Jamie was an idiot
for letting her go all those years ago, and maybe he’d realized that.
Claire
sighed loudly and lowered her face to her hands. She stayed in that position for a moment, not
moving, and then she looked up. “Look,
I’m sorry,” she said to Nick, her tone softening. “I came all this way to be with you this
weekend; I don’t want us to fight.
Clearly Jamie is a touchy subject, and I do understand why… honestly, I
do. I just wish that you would trust
me. But if you don’t want me to hang out
with him next week, I won’t.”
“Claire…
it’s not you I don’t trust,” Nick murmured, closing his eyes wearily. “It’s him.”
“Then
what’s the problem? You think I don’t
have any willpower around him or something?
It takes two to tango, Nick – if Jamie and I wanted to do anything
together, I would be in on it just as much as him. So as long as you trust me to be faithful,
you have nothing to worry about.”
“I do trust
you,” he said softly. And he did, didn’t
he? If there was any cause for mistrust
between the two of them, it was him, not her. He was the one who had slipped up and
let another woman kiss him. He had no
reason to believe that she’d ever been unfaithful to him.
“Thank
you,” she whispered solemnly, lying back down next to him. This time, though, she did not snuggle up against
him, but kept a few inches of space between their bodies. “It’s late…
We should get some sleep.”
“Yeah,” was
his hollow reply.
She leaned
over and kissed his cheek. It was more
of a peck than a kiss, and he had no chance to return the gesture because a
second later, she leaned the other way and shut off the lamp on her side of the
bed. He sighed and did the same,
blackening the bedroom. “Goodnight,” he
said dully.
“’Night,
Nick,” she replied, and he felt her hand pat his leg beneath the covers, a sign
that she was not really mad. But then
she rolled over onto her right side, so that her back was to him. Frowning, he crossed his arms over his chest
and stared up at the ceiling, wishing he could actually see something through
the darkness. He lay that way for a long
time, all too aware of every move she made - every rustle of the covers as she
drew them tighter around her shoulders… every jostle of the mattress as she
shifted her weight… and every gentle whoosh of air as she breathed. He could tell by her breathing whether she
was asleep or not; he knew she was not.
Though he
eventually closed his eyes, he also knew it would be a long time before he fell
asleep himself.
***