His Dancer, His Chains novel · Chapter 8 of 24

Chapter 8: No Touching

The doorman stared at the ceiling, and a woman checking her mail stopped to stare at us.

Nicolette did not raise her voice.

"I heard from my father an hour ago," she said. "I wanted to hear it from you, Rafferty."

"Nicolette."

"Don't. Please. Not in front of everyone."

She turned to me, and I braced for a slap.

Instead she put both arms around me and held me.

"Congratulations," she whispered.

She smelled of soap and green stems, the same as in the hospital.

"I'm so sorry about the board," she said, loud enough for the lobby to hear.

"I never wanted you hurt. I only wanted him to be happy."

"Nicolette, I..."

"Be good to him. He doesn't sleep, and he works too late, and he won't tell you when he's sick."

She let go of me and wiped her eye with a knuckle.

She picked up the small suitcase, and I saw it held her things from the penthouse.

"I'll send for the rest," she said, and she smiled at Rafferty, a brave, wet smile.

Then she walked out through the revolving door with her head high.

Every person in that lobby watched her go.

None of them looked at me kindly.

I turned and saw Rafferty staring at the door, his jaw set hard.

"Don't," I said. "Don't feel sorry for her."

"I don't."

"You do."

"I feel guilty," he said. "It's not the same thing."

He took me up in a private elevator that opened straight into his home.

It was three floors of glass and dark wood and quiet, with the whole city laid out below the windows.

He showed me my room on the second floor.

It had a bed bigger than my whole apartment and a lock on the door.

The window looked over the river.

"There's a key on the inside," he said. "I'll knock."

"Thank you."

"Goodnight, Cora."

"It's four in the afternoon."

"I know," he said, and the corner of his mouth moved. "I thought I'd practice."

I laughed.

Then I shut the door, and I sat on the bed and shook for a while.

Pippa texted at six that she had eaten a real dinner and the nurse was cute.

I sent her a photo of my ring.

She called me at once and screamed so loudly the phone buzzed against my ear.

I told her the truth, and she went quiet, and then she said, "Do you like him?"

"I don't know him."

"Cora."

"He's careful with me. I don't know what to do with that."

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