Nick turned off the TV and DVD player. He and Rosalie had been watching Life of Brian. No, he'd been watching—she'd fallen asleep ten minutes into the movie. One minute she was laughing that great laugh of hers, and the next, she was dead to the world. Good thing they'd been watching in bed.
It was almost eleven. Not too late to call Mike and find out how Rosalie was doing medically. He still couldn't believe she'd told him that her condition was none of his business. Hell, he was the one who'd made the damn appointment with Mike in the first place. If it wasn't his business, whose was it?
Rosalie was asleep on top of him. It took a minute for Nick to slide out without waking her. She was a piece of work. When she was awake, she was always so careful about not touching him. It was as if she were afraid they'd look as if they were together, which they weren't. He knew that, and it was obvious she knew that. What difference did it make if she touched him? The minute she fell asleep, though, she was all over him like cotton on silicone in a wet T-shirt contest.
Nick stood and reached for his sweats, tiptoed out of the bedroom, and shut the door. He didn't want Rosalie to know he was checking up on her. Nick called Mike's pager and punched in his cell phone number. Ten minutes later, his phone vibrated.
“Hello.”
“This is Dr. Flynn. You had me paged?” “Mikey, it's me, Nick.”
“I thought that number looked familiar. So, how's our patient?” Nick groaned. “That good, huh?”
“She's impossible, Mike. Do you believe she went to work today?”
“No kidding. How'd she get there?”
“I drove her. If I hadn't, she'd have taken the damn subway.”
“I heard from the dayshift nurse that Nurse Gus had to threaten to sedate her to keep her from climbing over the side of the bed to escape. He said you pulled a he-man stunt and carried her into the ER.”
“She wasn't going to go in otherwise.”
“Dr. Jansen asked about you.”
“Dr. who?”
“The attending. Tall, blonde, gorgeous. You know— Pamela Anderson with a brain. She also asked how long you and Rosalie have been engaged.”
“Hey, I had to tell her something. She was more interested in checking me out than in helping Lee.”
“Yeah, I know. I got a date with her.”
“Mikey, when are you going to stop picking up my throwaways?”
“When you stop throwing them back. I've been trying to get a date with Deena Jansen since she started her residency. Hell, if I'd known all I had to do was tell her I'm in tight with the great Romeo, I'd…”
“Christ, do you have to start that again?”
“No, I don't have to, but I will. By the way, you never did tell me what's with you and Rosalie. She's not your usual type.”
“What do you mean?”
“She's normal—not like the shallow, self-involved, dimwitted women you usually date—the ones who think the earth and sun revolve around you. As a matter of fact, she didn't seem impressed with you at all.”
'And you call that normal? That's what you think. Did you know she curses in three languages?”
“I caught that. She didn't think I spoke Italian. When I told her, she started with Greek.”
“Make that four.”
“She's got an amazing personality, a great job—”
“Yeah, you're not going to believe where I drove her.”
“Premier Motorcars. I know. Nick, tell me you're not seeing her as some kind of kinky corporate espionage.”
“What are you, nuts? No. I just found out about her connection to Premier today when I drove her to work. Christ, Mike, what kind of asshole do you think I am?”
“Hey, this is me you're talking to. The one who listened to you rant and rave about how you were going to take over Premier Motors if it was the last thing you did. You've wanted that place since we were kids. I know you, Nick. Nothing gets between you and what you want. Especially not a woman. Make sure whatever you do to her doesn't make her hate you so much, she won't date your best friend, okay? So, how long have you been seeing her?”
“A little over a week. Why?”
“I want to make sure my calendar is free when you throw her back. I'm looking forward to catching her.
She's got one hell of a body. Let's see, I give it another month and a half, which puts us into—”
“Hold on. What do you know about her body?”
“Enough to know I look forward to getting better acquainted with it.”
“The only thing you're going to get better acquainted with is my fist, if you don't stop talking about her like that.”
“Nick, man, I didn't mean—”
“It doesn't matter. Besides, she doesn't like doctors.”
“All women like doctors. They just don't like seeing us professionally. Didn't you get the memo? Doctors are prime marriage material.”
“No, I must have missed that one. Now you have two strikes against you in Lee's book. She's not into marriage, either.”
“Right.”
“Look, I'm calling because Lee wouldn't tell me what you said. And I want to make sure she's okay.”
“Nick? You feeling all right? Suffered a recent blow to the head?”
“Oh, you're a laugh riot, Mike. Look, I'm staying at her place and taking care of her, and I need to know if she's well enough to, you know, resume normal activities.”
“Oh, I get it. You want to know when you're gonna get laid.”
“No. Well, okay, yes, that, too. But I also want to know if she should be going to work, and if I should be leaving her alone.”
“Okay, look, I don't think I'd be breaking doctor-patient confidentiality to tell you that, no, she shouldn't be going to work yet—maybe late next week for a few hours a day. As for sex, well, I'd hold off on that, too. And, yes, you can leave her alone, if you think you can trust her not to go to work or have sex without you.”
Nick waited for Mike to stop laughing. “You know, Lee could be right. Maybe you did get your medical license out of a box of Cracker Jacks.”
Dave whined and stuck his nose in Nick's armpit, almost knocking the telephone from his hand.
“What was that?”
“Dave, Lee's dog. I have to go.”
“You're taking care of the dog, too?”
“Yeah. What of it?”
“Oh, nothing. I'm picturing you walking a shih tzu, that's all. Thanks, you made my day.”
“Yeah? Why don't you come over and make a house call? I'm sure Dave would love to take a chunk out of your ass. Dave eats shih tzus for breakfast. Don'cha, boy? Look, Mike, I've got to go. Give me a call sometime next week. We'll have lunch.”
“Take good care of Rosalie. Oh, and give her my number when you dump her, will you?”
“Dream on.”
Nick hung up and grimaced. Damn, it'd been over a week since he and Rosalie were together, and he knew he was a selfish bastard, but he'd been hoping Mike would say she was up for recreational activities. Christ, he wasn't sure how much longer he could go on sleeping with her body plastered against his. He hadn't been sleeping much at all, and tonight was going to be another long one.
Nick shrugged his coat on and stepped into his running shoes. Maybe a nice long walk in sub-zero temperatures would take the edge off. Lord knows, cold showers weren't cutting it.
“Come on, Dave, I'll take you out one last time tonight. But if you take another dump, you're on your own.” Nick grabbed Dave's leash. “Someone should invent a way to attach a bag to your ass. The pooper-scooper law sucks.”
At least Dave had the decency to look embarrassed.
Monday morning, Nick disengaged himself from Rosalie's grasp and slipped out of bed. It was only five-thirty, still fully dark, and Nick wondered if all those stories he'd heard about blue balls were true.
He'd been awake and trying to fall back to sleep for over an hour. He'd come to the conclusion that sleep wasn't going to happen. Typical. Maybe he'd go to the office and stretch out on the couch. Rosalie's couch was too close to Rosalie, and the way he felt right now, if he didn't leave, he'd either attack her or go crazy. She was too soft in all the places he was hard; she was too comfortable; she smelled too good; and damn, the way she wrapped herself around him was enough to tempt a saint. Nick was no saint.
He hit the bathroom, showered, and dressed in jeans and a sweater. He'd change into one of the suits he'd hauled to the office since staying at Rosalie's. It was faster than going home to change and then to the dealership. Sure, his secretary was giving him funny looks, but that was nothing new. Lois had been doing that for the last ten years. He was used to it.
Nick fed and walked Dave, made coffee for himself, and set the pot to brew automatically for Rosalie. It didn't take long for him to learn that coffee was necessary to Rosalie's survival, as well as everyone else's. Being around Rosalie before she had coffee was like waving a red cape at a Brahma bull—not a bright idea. The woman was downright vicious. Nick grabbed his briefcase, keys, and phone, and patted Dave's head.
“I'll be back with lunch. You take care of Lee for me.”
He went to the door to get his coat and he the oddest feeling he should stay—an ominous feeling. Nick shook his head. Talk about melodramatic—he heard organ music playing in his head. Da-da-duh-dum. He was being ridiculous. Rosalie was fine. Her breathing was back to normal; she hadn't wheezed all night; and her cough was under control. In short, she was sleeping like a babe. A very sexy, hot, arousing, desirable babe. Damn, he had to get the hell out of there, or all his good intentions would disappear. She'd definitely be better off without him hanging around wanting to get her all excited and breathing heavy.
He adjusted himself, pulled his jacket on, and checked to make sure it covered his bulge. He didn't want Henry and Wayne getting the wrong idea if he passed them on the way out. Grabbing his briefcase, he took a deep breath, pushed the bad feeling aside, and left for work.
Nick crashed for a few hours in his office and spent the rest of the morning going through the motions. He knew that he spoke to people, had meetings, and made decisions, but he did it all by rote. His mind was on Rosalie. He couldn't get past the feeling that something was wrong.
“Earth to Nick.”
Nick looked up from the ad copy he'd been staring at for the last half hour. Lois was looking at him as if she wanted to commit murder.
Nick had the urge to get out of his chair and step out of her reach. He'd hired her because she was a real hard ass. A single mom with five boys, only one of whom was still at home, the woman could give a Marine Drill Sergeant lessons on how to be one of the few, the proud… Hell, the Marines could use her as a secret weapon. She looked harmless enough, but as Nick had found out early on, she was more dangerous than a nuclear bomb. Until now, she had never directed her rage at him. It was okay if she directed it at the press or pushy salesmen, but he'd thought he was safe because he signed her paychecks. He'd been wrong.
“What's the matter with you?”
“Me?” Nick sputtered. “What do you mean? Nothing's the matter with me.”
“Okay,” Lois threw up her hands, “don't tell me. I don't care, but let me tell you something. You've been acting strange since the beginning of last week, and you're walking around here with your head up your ass. You came this close to losing our biggest client today. Mr. Ackerman was going to take his business elsewhere. Do you know how big a fleet his company has? How many cars, trucks, and vans he purchases from us annually? How much he spends on repairs and maintenance each year?”
“I do not have my head up my ass—”
“Oh, really? Is that why you slept through your breakfast meeting this morning? Do you realize that's the second time you've stood him up? You didn't even have the decency to cancel.”
“A breakfast meeting? Damn.”
“I just spent an hour on the phone placating him. Do you mind telling me where the hell your head is? Because it's not here. Hell, it's not even at Premier Motors. You couldn't find Premier's file when you were looking right at it, and you've yet to comment on the new interim CFO. What's going on with you, Nick?”
“Okay… you know that woman I've been seeing?”
“Rosalie Ronaldi? Yeah, what about her?”
“You remember when I told you how I got in trouble as a kid?”
“When you and a friend got arrested for grand theft auto? How could I forget?”
Nick rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, well, the friend happened to be Rosalie's big brother.”
Lois shook her head and looked as if she was about to give him hell. He might as well get the inevitable over with. He braced for it, as if he were about to pull a Band-Aid off a hairy part of his body. It was going to sting… badly. He held up his hand to stop the onslaught until he was finished. “Wait, there's more.”
“More? Spit it out, Nick.”
“She's a turnaround expert, and she's turning around Premier Motors. She's the new interim CFO.”
Lois crossed her arms over her abundant chest and gave Nick a look that had him saying Hail Marys under his breath. “You know, Nick, I thought you had your head up your ass, but now I know the truth. You can't have your head up your ass, because you are an ass. How dare you use that poor woman for your own purposes? That's just wrong in so many ways—”
“Whoa, hold on. I'm not using Lee—well, not without her consent, anyway. I didn't know she was the interim CFO. I didn't know she had anything to do with Premier Motors until Wednesday. What do you take me for?”
“A guy who'd keep his identity a secret from the woman he's sleeping with, because she'd probably never see him if she knew who he really was. I know you, Dominick Romeo. You're determined to acquire Premier Motors, and you're not above using others to forward your agenda.”
“Okay, I'll admit I've skated on the edge of propriety when it comes to business dealings, but I've never done anything illegal.”
“Last time I checked, corporate espionage was illegal, not to mention immoral. Hell, you could get Rosalie fired and blackballed. Who's going to hire a turnaround expert who gives information to the man planning a hostile takeover?”
“It's hardly hostile. I made them a very fair offer.”
“That's not the point, and you know it. You need to choose between your girlfriend and Premier Motors.”
“That's ridiculous. Rosalie is temporary, and Premier is business. I don't mix business and pleasure.”
“How's it going to look when someone finds out she's sleeping with the man intent on taking over the company she's been hired to save?”
“That's not going to happen. I'm not going to do, nor have I done, anything to hurt Premier. I simply sat back and watched Lassiter run it into the ground, all by his lonesome. I haven't done anything to hurt Lee, either, but there's little chance of her turning around Premier Motors.”
Lois looked skeptical.
“Besides, Lee and I will be history by the time I make my next offer to Lassiter, and I'll make sure she's not hurt by any of this.”
“Oh, that's right. I forgot. You're the great and powerful Oz. You control everything and everyone. You know what, Nick? Since you're so good at it, next time you sleep through a breakfast meeting and destroy a valuable client relationship, clean up your own mess. I'm finished. And if Rosalie knew who you were and what you're doing, she'd be finished, too.”
Nick had to hand it to her. Lois sure could dish it out. He'd never thought of how this might affect Rosalie, but hey, they were just sleeping together. They never talked business. Rosalie thought he was a mechanic. Why would she talk about confidential information with a mechanic? Sure, when she found out the truth, there'd be hell to pay, but until then, he was going to enjoy himself. Besides, it wasn't as if he needed to take advantage of Rosalie. He was the best in the business. What would be the fun of winning if he had to cheat to do it? Rosalie knew him well enough to know he'd never use her. Well, he hoped she did, anyway.
“Look, Lois. I promise, nothing's going to happen to Lee, so stop worrying. Have I ever broken a promise to you?”
“No, you haven't. But Nick, think about what you're doing.”
“I will, and Lois, thanks for covering for me today.
I'm sorry I put you in an uncomfortable situation. It's been a hard couple of weeks.” Nick checked his watch and stood, walking toward his private bathroom. “I'm on my way out. I'll be back first thing in the morning.”
“Nick, it's not even noon, and you didn't wake up until nine thirty. Aren't you even going to tell me what you're doing sleeping in your office?”
“No, I'm not.”
“Stop the buzzing, stop the buzzing! Who would come over this early in the morning?” Rosalie got out of bed and moved as quickly as she could—which she had to admit was a snail's pace—to the door, slapped the intercom button, and croaked, “What?”
“Rosalie Angelina Ronaldi, you open this door this minute, or I'm going to call your father and see what he has to say.”
She buzzed her mother in and wondered if her cough medicine had enough codeine in it to make dealing with Mama bearable. Somehow, she doubted it.
Rosalie unlocked the door before Mama started ringing that bell, too. As if her head didn't hurt enough. God, she hoped Nick had made coffee.
Dave sat next to the door and whined. “I feel your pain, buddy.”
Mrs. Ronaldi started talking even before she had the door open an inch.
“Rosalie, what is the meaning—my Lord, you look like something the cat dragged in. Can't you fix yourself up a little? It's noon, why aren't you dressed? Put some makeup on, for God's sake. What if Joey comes to see you? I told him you were sick. Such a nice boy, that Joey.” “Hi, Ma.”
“What? You couldn't call me yourself and tell me you were sick? What's wrong with you? You know better than to make me worry.”
“Sorry, I fell asleep.”
“And get that mangy mutt away from me. I'll have black hair all over my outfit.”
She took her coat off and handed it to Rosalie, who threw it on the couch. Dave, the traitor, ran into the bedroom.
“Well, at least you cleaned the apartment.”
“I did?” Rosalie looked around. She could see all the counters and tabletops. Amazing. “Um, yeah, I did.”
“I suppose you did that because Joey called and will be coming over?”
Rosalie poured two coffees and smiled to herself. Thank you, Nick. You're a prince among men—the prince of darkness, but a prince all the same.
“I don't know if Joey called, Ma, and I don't care. I don't want Joey to call; I don't want Joey to come over; and once and for all, I don't want to marry Joey. The only thing I want from Joey is for him to leave me alone.”
After sliding the coffee cup across the breakfast bar to her mother, Rosalie opened a box of biscotti and stuffed one in her mouth. When she offered the box to her mother, the woman walked into the kitchen and took out two plates. Rosalie didn't see the point of dirtying a plate. If you ate over the sink, you never had to do dishes.
“You're sick. You don't know what you're saying.”
Mama continued as she took the biscotti out of Rosalie's hand and set it on the plate.
“I'm sick, not crazy.” Though she might be hallucinating. She couldn't believe how nice her place looked. Wow. She felt like someone on that show Clean Sweep. She was dying to open a closet door but afraid it might cause an avalanche if Nick had shoved everything in there, like she always did.
“You're coming home with me, so I can take care of you.”
“No, thanks. Ma, I'm fine. Really. I feel a lot better.”
Her mother eyed the refrigerator. Oh, no. If she opened the door before Rosalie blocked it and saw there was no food, Rosalie's position as failure of the Ronaldi family was cemented for eternity. Damn. It was hard to move fast when she couldn't breathe, and her mother beat her. As the door swung open, Rosalie closed her eyes, shook her head, and prayed for divine intervention—hell, any intervention would do, she wasn't picky.
“And I thought you couldn't cook.”
“I can, too.” She opened her eyes and did another double take. The refrigerator was overflowing. And not only with beer and batteries, which would have been typical.
“I don't consider boiling pasta and heating canned sauce cooking.” Her mother quipped. “This lasagna looks homemade.”
“A friend brought it over. Look, I'm being well fed, and I'm tired. I want to sleep, so thanks for coming, Ma. I'll call you tomorrow.” She put her arm around her mother and was trying to usher her to the door when Mama turned and walked into the bedroom. Of course, she freaked when she found Dave sleeping on the bed with all fours in the air and a smile on his face—well, when his jowls flopped open like that, it looked like a smile, anyway.
“You sleep with that in your bed?”
Among other things. If she only knew…
“Get off!”
Poor Dave flew off the bed and out into the garden. Only the sound of the doggy door swinging back and forth penetrated the silence, until Rosalie heard the front door open.
“Lucy, I'm home.”
Oh, no. It wasn't only the bad Ricky Ricardo imitation that was upsetting. Things were beginning to get dark and fuzzy. She sat on her bed and considered putting her head between her knees, but she wasn't sure if that was the crash position or what one should do when feeling faint.
“Lee, do you want to eat in bed?”
From what she could see through the gray fuzz, her mother was crossing herself and doing that breast-beating thing she did when she was über-upset. Yeah. She was mumbling that prayer to the Virgin Mother again.
“Lee?”
The bedroom door swung open and there was Nick in all his glory, though he looked kinda squiggy around the edges. Maybe she'd taken too much of that cough syrup. She could never get the spoon from the bottle to her mouth without spilling it all over herself, so she improvised and took a swig or two.
She lay down, faced the wall, and groaned.
“Mama, Nick; Nick, that's my mother, Maria Ronaldi. Mama was just leaving.”
“Well, I never!”
“Yeah, Ma, I know. I'm a disappointment, a puttana, yada, yada, yada. I'll call you and give you plenty of time to yell all about it. But not now. I'm not up to it.”
Rosalie felt as if she were floating away and far below her, she heard Nick's hushed voice…
“I think you'd better go now, Mrs. Ronaldi.”