Strings Attached, page 26
“Tell me.”
“I like the way you make me feel.” She took Nikki’s hand and held it to her heart. “Here.”
Nikki stared at her, her expression unreadable. What was she thinking? Did she feel the same way?
She wanted to tell Nikki she was falling for her. That it was more than a physical connection they were sharing. That if she had the guts to completely let go, she could see them together, in a real relationship, in it for the long haul. Forever.
“Me too,” Nikki said. “Listen, Drew. I’m no saint, and you know that. I know you have your doubts about me. Hell, I have my doubts about me.” She moved their joined hands to her own heart. “But you make me want to be a better person. You inspire me, Drew. I admire you so much. You’re a remarkable woman—”
“Geez, Nikki, come on. I’m just a small-town music teacher who can barely afford to take you out to dinner. What is it you see in me?” Her eyes stung with threatening tears. Who was she kidding? There was no way she could hold Nikki’s interest forever.
Nikki lifted her chin. “The fact that you have no idea how special you are is exactly one of the things that makes you special. Don’t you get it? I don’t give a shit about how much money you have or what you do for a living. You make a difference in the lives of those who know you. I see the joy in your father’s face whenever you’re around. I see the way Melissa looks up to you. I can tell Geena thinks the world of you, too. And Christ, where else can someone go around here to take cello lessons? Or any other orchestral instrument? This community needs you.” Nikki kissed her tenderly. “I need you.” She kissed her again. “I can’t talk to anyone else the way I talk to you. I can’t explain it. I can let my guard down with you and still feel…safe.”
She pulled Nikki closer. Her heart pummeled her chest. Its rhythm sounded in her ears like a mantra. She loves me. She loves me. She loves me.
And I love her, too.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Nikki kissed her mother’s cheek as she stepped inside. She was giddy and miserable. If she’d known things would end up going so well with Drew, she would’ve made plans to spend Thanksgiving dinner with her and Jerry. She smiled. At least they’d be having dessert together later. Dessert has a whole new meaning now.
“Nikki, darling, your cheeks are redder than Rudolph’s nose. Did you drive here with the top down?”
“Of course not, Mom. It’s a hard top, not a convertible.”
Her father puffed on his pipe. He looked out the window. “With the money you’re making, you should’ve invested in a Lincoln Navigator or a Land Rover if you wanted an SUV.”
Nothing’s ever good enough, for you, is it? “I happen to love that Jeep. Besides, I have better things to do with my money.”
She followed them into the kitchen. Her mother was prepping the feast, most of which she’d had delivered from a local five-star restaurant. She was still slim and shapely in her beige dress slacks and white silk blouse beneath a rose-colored cashmere sweater. Her sleek straight hair was almost as dark as Nikki’s, thanks to professional coloring to hide the gray.
“I hope you took my advice on those investments I told you about. Did you meet with Floyd?” He snuffed out his pipe—her mother forbade him to smoke in the kitchen or dining room.
“I have my own financial advisor, Dad. Don’t worry. I’m doing okay.”
He harrumphed and began carving the bird with an electric knife.
The three of them worked together in silence to put the food on the table and sat down. They filled their plates, quiet as they buttered and salted, poured gravy, and sliced turkey.
She took her first bite and waited for the other shoe to drop.
“You should be doing better than just okay.”
And there it was. “Dad, don’t start. I’m doing very well. I’m successful. I’m happy. What more do you want from me?”
He stared at her for a moment. Nikki knew he was struggling to let it go. She hoped to God he would. He went back to eating, and she did the same.
“I’ve been thinking.”
Here we go.
“Now that you’ve made a name for yourself with this rock group, maybe it’s a good time for you to capitalize on it and make an opera album. You know, show ’em you’re not just a flash-in-the-pan pop star.”
“Are you serious? Opera?”
Her mother purposely concentrated on her food, caught in the middle again without showing any inclination to stand up for her daughter.
“Sure. Why not?” He set down his knife and put a hand on her forearm. “You are a classically trained musician, sweetheart. You’ve made your point. Now, don’t you think it’s time you grew up and started earning a real return on our investment? Pop groups these days are a dime a dozen. Opera, on the other hand…”
“Our investment? What about my investment? I put the work and practice into my career, not you. And flash in the pan? Is that all you think of my band?”
“Come on, you know as well as I do that the rock music scene is no more than an excuse to extend adolescence. You’ll be thirty next year. You can’t keep living like a teenager. With your training, opera is a much more respectable career path.” He gestured at her arm with his fork. “Of course, if you perform live, you’ll have to wear something that’ll cover up those tattoos. No one’s going to take you seriously with that nonsense.”
“You’re unbelievable.” How many insults was she supposed to take?
“I want the best for you, Nikki. Why can’t you understand that?”
“I do understand it, but that doesn’t mean you get to control my life. I’m your goddamn daughter, not a business deal.”
“Nikki, language, please!”
Sure. Now her mother had something to say.
“Why can’t you be happy for me? Why can’t you be proud of me?”
“Why can’t you be grateful for the opportunities I provided for you?”
“I am grateful, Dad. Every day. And guess what? I’m not just saying that because it’s Thanksgiving. I was just telling my girlfriend that the other day—”
“Girlfriend?”
Her mother lit up, but Nikki knew she was jumping at the chance to change the subject.
“Why didn’t you tell us you have a girlfriend?”
“So he can spout off his disapproval of that aspect of my life, too?” She stood and threw her linen napkin onto the table. “No thanks.” She turned to leave.
“Honey, don’t go.” Her mother touched her arm. “Not like this. At least stay for some pie.”
“Let her go.” Her father scooped a generous bite of mashed potatoes onto his fork. “She’s only proving my point—acting like a spoiled teenager instead of engaging in an adult conversation.” He shoved the food into his mouth. “I thought we could have a mature discussion, but—”
“Telling me what to do without giving a shit about what I want or what I have to say is not a discussion.” Nikki took a step toward him. “Nothing I do is ever going to be good enough for you anyway, so what’s the point?”
Her mother followed her frantically to the door. “Nikki. Honey, don’t leave like this. He doesn’t mean any harm. He’s just trying to help.”
“He’s insulting me and trying to run my life. As usual.”
Her mother smiled. “He doesn’t want you to rest on your laurels, that’s all. And you won’t. I know you. You love a challenge. Whether you admit it or not, you two are alike in that way.”
“I don’t want to be his challenge. I just want to be his daughter.” She hugged her mother. “Thank you for dinner, Mom.”
She headed down the walkway toward her Jeep—the vehicle she was so proud to buy—and sped away from the estate. She swiped the tears from her cheeks.
She’d had high hopes of enjoying a peaceful holiday and telling her parents all about Drew. I called her my girlfriend. Was Drew her girlfriend? Hell, she was the closest thing she’d had to a girlfriend since high school. She was sure Drew’s dinner was going better than hers. Maybe Jerry could give her father lessons in parenthood.
She downshifted as she looped around the on-ramp. The roads were clear, but she waited until she hit the straightaway on the highway before she opened the throttle. She was ready for pie now. At Drew’s place.
***
“Hey, you’re earlier than I expected.” Drew closed the door behind Nikki.
Nikki engulfed her in a bear hug. “God, I missed you.”
“It’s only been two days.” Nikki’s parka muffled Drew’s voice.
Nikki held her fiercely.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fabulous!” Nikki loosened her grip and kissed her urgently. Something was off. Nikki seemed far from fabulous. Despite her efforts to avoid eye contact, Nikki couldn’t hide the red rims around her eyes.
Fret wound herself between their legs and mewed. Nikki shoved a bottle of wine into Drew’s hand, then scooped up Fret and covered her face with kisses. “I love this little furball!” Fret stiff-armed her in the cheek. “Where are the other two munchkins?” She put Fret on the floor and looked around.
“We saved you some pie, Nikki.”
“Jerry!” Nikki opened her arms and bounced across the room. “You handsome devil, you. Gimme a hug!” She wrapped herself around him before he could answer.
Either her visit with her parents hadn’t gone well, or she’d had a few too many glasses of wine with dinner. If that were the case, she shouldn’t have driven here. Nikki let her dad go and crouched next to Andres’s bed. She petted him and cooed over his high-decibel purrs. Vinnie scampered into the bedroom, wary of becoming Nikki’s next victim of overzealous affection.
Drew exchanged a look with her dad, who also looked concerned.
“Maybe I’d better go,” he said quietly as he lifted his coat from the back of a chair.
Nikki sprung to her feet. “You can’t leave! I just got here. It’s family time. Drew, pour the wine. Let’s have a toast for all we’re thankful for, shall we?”
Drew placed her hand on Nikki’s shoulder. “Are you sure you haven’t done enough toasting already today?”
Nikki’s smile faltered. “You think I’m drunk?”
“You are acting a bit…odd.”
“What’re you talking about? I’m just full of holiday cheer. At least I am now. I can assure you, there was nothing worth toasting where I just came from.”
“Oh, Nikki.”
“Hey. No pity parties allowed. Jerry, don’t you dare go anywhere. I need to be around you two. Maybe I’ll take notes. See if I can teach my dear ol’ dad a thing or two about what real fatherhood means, huh?”
“Nikki—”
“Let me ask you, Jerry, are you proud of Drew? Do you tell her how amazing she is at her job? Or do you tell her that what she’s doing with her life isn’t good enough for you every chance you get?” Nikki’s voice faded, and her arms drooped to her sides as if the air had been let out of her.
Drew stood helplessly.
Nikki looked up at her dad as her tears spilled over. “Do you hug her and tell her you love her?”
She stepped toward Nikki, but her dad beat her to it. He enveloped Nikki and motioned for Drew to join them. Nikki was probably embarrassed by her outburst, and maybe even more so by the group hug, but it didn’t matter now. They were giving her what she needed, whether she was too proud to admit it or not.
“Pride is a terrible thing if you let it get in the way of what’s really important.” Her dad’s soft baritone always soothed her, and she hoped it had the same effect on Nikki now.
“Some men aren’t so good at expressing their feelings.” He stepped back and held Nikki at arm’s length. “It doesn’t mean he doesn’t love you, kiddo. Which I’m sure he does.”
Nikki backed off and turned away. She wiped her face. “I’m sorry.” Her voice sounded little in the small space. “I’ve spoiled your day.”
Drew put an arm around her. “No, you haven’t. Besides, what’s a holiday without a little family drama?” She gave her shoulder two quick tugs. “Come on. I know how much you love dessert.” She discreetly gave Nikki a sly smile.
To her delight, Nikki blushed and then smiled.
“No fair,” Nikki whispered.
“You can pay me back later.”
Nikki glanced Jerry’s way. Seemingly satisfied that he was out of earshot, she replied, “Don’t think I won’t.”
She smiled. She added something else to her list of things she was thankful for—that extra can of whipped cream she’d put in the shopping carriage two days ago.
“So, what’ll it be, Doodlebug?” Her dad snapped them out of their private moment. “Pumpkin or chocolate cream?”
They burst out laughing and answered in unison. “Pumpkin.”
“We’ll save the chocolate cream for later,” Drew added.
“Doodlebug?” Nikki asked.
“He’s called me that since I was a kid.”
Jerry cut the pie and distributed three slices onto plates. “Haven’t you noticed Drew’s habit of doodling all over everything?”
“You know, now that you’ve mentioned it, I did notice an assortment of drawings on the desk calendar in her office.”
No sooner had they sat down to eat than Fret showed up at their feet again, hoping for a bite. She sat up and stretched out her neck so that her chin was level with the table. She poked a paw into Drew’s thigh. She gave the kitty a stern look and told her to be good.
“Thank you, Dad, for sharing my dirty little secret.”
“What, that you have artistic talent, too? It’s hardly a secret.” He chugged a glass of milk. “I’m sure if you hadn’t decided on music, you’d have become an artist of some sort.”
“I have noticed her affinity for fine arts.” Nikki smiled at them both.
She’d finally relaxed outwardly, although Drew was sure she was still shaken over whatever had transpired with her family earlier.
He proceeded to indulge Nikki’s requests for more dirt on her childhood antics, which could have been embarrassing had they not all ended up laughing their butts off. Her father really knew how to put an entertaining spin on otherwise boring anecdotes. Her own memories of such events were less pleasant, but she was grateful for their character-building lessons.
They finished cleaning up, and Nikki easily persuaded Jerry to put on some music and dance with the two of them. It was silly and spontaneous and more fun than Drew could ever remember having on a holiday. Drew’s phone rang. She answered blindly.
“Oh! You answered! I expected I’d get your voice mail.”
“Mom?”
“Don’t act so surprised, doll. I’m just calling to wish you Happy Thanksgiving.”
“You don’t even call me on my birthday most years. Why wouldn’t I be surprised to hear from you today?”
The music filling her apartment seemed to exaggerate the eerie silence on the other end of the line. Was her mother alone? It was hard to feel sorry for her. This was the life she’d chosen. Career above family, with no grasp on how to balance the two. She looked at Nikki, who seemed to have less trouble in that department—at least when it came to her chosen family.
“Well. You know how hectic my schedule can be. I’m at the producer’s mercy sometimes. You know that. And it’s not like you ever go out anywhere, so I knew I’d likely catch you alone so we can talk.”
She simmered at the assumption—even though the odds were likely it would be accurate. Not this year. Her father spun Nikki around and dipped her. Nikki giggled.
“Turn the TV down, dear. I can hardly hear you.”
“It’s not the TV.”
“Oh. Don’t tell me you’re actually out at a party? Well, now I’m the one who’s surprised.”
Thanks for the vote of confidence, Mother. “Actually, I’m at home, but I have company.”
“Really? Who?”
“Dad and…and a woman I’m seeing.”
She grunted. “I should’ve known you’d be with your father.”
Drew ignored the usual dig.
“Did you say you’re seeing someone? I hope it’s not that girl from college.”
“Of course not, Mom. That was ages ago.”
“Well, it’s not like you keep me up to date on your life. What’s her name? What does she do?”
How would her mother feel about her dating a rock star? Then again, she might not even know who Nikki was. They didn’t exactly run in the same circles.
“Her name is Nikki. She’s a singer.”
“Oh, Drew. Not another coffeehouse wannabe. When are you going to raise your standards? I swear, you’re just like your father.”
Thank God for that. “She happens to be a member of a very successful rock band. And what’s wrong with me being like my father? He’s a wonderful—”
“Which band?”
“She’s the lead singer of Passion Play.”
Her mother let out a small gasp. “Nikki Razer? You’re dating Nikki Razer? Oh, this is big. This is really big. She could be your ticket, baby! You can finally get out of that dead-end job at your father’s. Have you talked to her about career possibilities? She could probably get you in with one of the major labels as a producer or—”
“Are you serious? That’s what you care about? How she can further my career?”
A hand fell softly on her shoulder. “Talking to your mother, I presume?”
“How’d you guess?”
“Is that your father? Put him on. Maybe I can convince him to talk some sense into you.”
She saw Nikki in the shadows of the living room, thumbing through albums, probably trying to respect her privacy and not overhear her end of the conversation. Without the music playing, it would be hard to do.
Her dad chuckled and spoke in the direction of her cell. “Maggie, we both know she’s got more sense than the two of us put together and then some. Leave her alone.” He winked and said under his breath, “Good thing we already ate.”
Yes. Good thing because her appetite would’ve been lost.
“Oh, you tell him to shush.” Her mother wasn’t budging. “Listen, I’ll send you some money. You come back out here to LA, and I’ll make some calls. Which label are they with? If we both put in a word for you—”
