[ - ]
Table of Contents [Report This]
Printer Chapter or Story Microsoft Word Chapter or Story
- Text Size +
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 all right. 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.

***