I wondered what he’d meant by that, but I wasn’t about to ask. We sat there for a few more minutes eating in awkward silence. I wasn’t really hungry anymore, and there didn’t seem to be much more to say. “I guess I better let you go,” I said.

He looked sad. “I’m sorry I wasn’t better company.” We both stood. “I’ll see you on Monday.” He turned to go.

“Nicholas,” I said. I walked up to him and put my arms around him. “I don’t know what’s going on. But I care.” I hugged him tighter.

When I stepped back, I noticed that his eyes were slightly red. “Thank you,” he said softly. “That means more than you know.” He turned and walked away.

The next day I didn’t leave my office at lunchtime, which everyone noticed.

“Where’s Nick?” Zoey asked.

“He’s out of town,” I said, not really knowing where he was. It just seemed the best way to explain why I wasn’t with him.

“Good. Then you can come to lunch with us,” Zoey said. “Cathy and I are going to get sushi.”

“Thanks,” I said. “But I’m not hungry.”

Zoey touched my arm. “Are you okay?”

“Nicholas is just acting a little different.”

She nodded. “It will be okay. Sometimes men just need some space. Some cave time.”

I forced a smile. “I’m sure you’re right.” Inside I wasn’t sure.

I worried about Nicholas all weekend. I wanted to call him, but never did. Maybe it was just fear, but something told me not to. Our time apart revealed to me just how much I cared about him and needed him. I was beginning to fear Christmas.

Chapter Twenty-One

CHAPTER

Twenty-one

When I signed the contract I knew the relationship was fake. So why doesn’t it feel that way anymore?

Elise Dutton’s Diary

I was anxious from the moment I woke on Monday. For the first time since I’d signed the contract I was nervous to see Nicholas. My anxiety grew as lunchtime neared.

About a half hour before noon Mark walked into my office. “We’ve got a problem,” he said. “The Marriott you booked in New York for our Dayton group has a gas leak and had to evacuate. We’ve got sixty kids on a bus and no place to stay for the night.”

I groaned. “All right. I’ll get on the phone.” I pulled up my list of New York hotels and began calling. Nicholas called from the food court at a quarter after noon. I had been so involved in my crisis that I hadn’t realized what time it was.

“You’re standing me up?” he asked.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize it was so late.”

“Then I’ll wait,” he said.

“No, I can’t come.”

“Then you are standing me up?”