But the look on both these men’s faces told me they weren’t so sure…and that ten to one, they had made use of Calvin Gardner’s little operation over the years.
Nina stepped back and took a calm sip of her champagne. “You might want to consider that before you make me the object of your schoolboy fantasies.” Her face remained placid, but her voice sounded tight, like a string pulled past its capacity. My hands clenched. Something told me this string was about to snap.
“Whatever,” said Jackass Number Two. He nudged his friend. “Something tells me that after ten years, you’re probably used goods anyway.”
I almost flew forward with a punch right there, but once again, Nina beat me to it. Her glass flew out of her hand, and champagne coated the man’s face, tie, and expensive suit before the flute fell to the ground with a smash that was only just hidden by the loud music and hum of the party.
“Bitch!” Both men jumped back, as if the action would allow them to step out of the sopping mess of champagne covering their clothes. “What the fuck, Nina!”
A few of the people around us turned with bored expressions to see what was happening, but it was soon clear that watching these gentlemen have drinks thrown in their faces was nothing new.
Jackass Number One raised his hand, ready to retaliate. This time, I did step in front of Nina and pushed her solidly behind my back. Her hands rested against my shoulder blades, fingers quivering with tension.
“Just try it, son,” I growled, low enough that I was only heard by the four of us. “Touch her, and I’ll knock every one of those pretty teeth out.”
“Oh, really?” sneered Jackass Two as he shook out his tie. “And who are you, her white knight? Or just her mangy guard dog.”
“I’m whoever the fuck she wants me to be,” I snarled. “And if you’d like to learn more, I’m happy to make an introduction outside.”
Both men looked like they wanted to take me up on my offer, but before either could say anything, the music was shut off and a high-pitched ringing of silver tapping crystal filled the room, catching everyone’s attention.
“Stop.” Nina’s voice was barely above a whisper, her breath warm against the back of my ear. “Thank you. But you can stop now.”
I was shaking with anger. Anticipation. I hadn’t wanted to fight this badly since I was in the Marines. I hadn’t realized until now how deeply that need was ingrained in me, how being a DA had given me a place to channel it. And now I didn’t have it anymore.
But Nina’s touch brought me back from the brink. I turned around to face her; the only thing I saw was gratitude. Well, it was a hell of a lot better than the irritation I’d seen before.
Now apparently more concerned with missing the gossip than with being taught a lesson from yours truly, the two jackasses turned with the rest of the crowd to face Eric, who was standing on a stool that elevated him about two feet above everyone else. Jane stood next to him at regular height, looking resplendent in a bright red dress, a few matching stripes of color shooting through her black-brown hair.
“Everyone,” Eric called out from the head of the room. “First of all, we’d like to thank you for coming tonight. It’s a hell of a housewarming, I’ll give you that.”
There was a round of hoots and hollers, though the people in the room who seemed the loudest also seemed to be the youngest. Eric had more friends than I’d realized. Or maybe that’s just who comes out of the woodwork when you inherit seventeen billion dollars.
“This gorgeous woman and I are thrilled to announce that Jane has just been accepted on early admission to the Fashion Institute of Technology!”
There was a gasp behind me, then another round of deafening cheers, though I doubted any of these people really cared about Jane’s triumphs. I was happy for her, though. Jane needed this more than most, and she was talented. Better her than anyone else.
I turned to Nina to say as much and found her staring at Eric, eyes bulging, face reddened. While everyone shouted their well-wishes to the couple, she looked anything but happy.
Fuck distance. Fuck space.
“Hey.” I slipped a hand around her waist and pulled her close enough to hear me. “Are you all right?”
“Oh.” Nina pressed a hand to her heart as if she were in pain. “Oh, God.”
I didn’t have to know why she felt the way she did. Only that she did. And that I needed to help.
“Please,” she begged suddenly. “Out. Matthew, I need to get out.”
“You got it,” I said as the crowd swarmed forward to Jane and Eric. I grabbed her hand and immediately started towing her through the crowd, mindless of who or what I might be knocking aside with my shoulders and a few pointed elbows.
With a few curious glances, Tony and the security team allowed us past the barrier to the upper floors of the townhouse. Up, up, up we climbed, beyond the noise of the party, past the third-floor bedrooms where John Carson had been shot. We continued to a door at the very top, which opened onto the newly renovated rooftop patio. The rush of Central Park West and Seventy-Sixth Street were reduced to whispers, and the chilly air and cold night seemed to wrap around us both like a blanket.
“Here,” I said, immediately stripping off my jacket and wrapping it around Nina’s thin shoulders. “You’ll freeze without that, baby.”
Nina didn’t reply, just continued to gasp for several minutes, like she’d just emerged from under water.
“Lord,” she said as she sank against the now-closed door. “I just—oh, God, I just couldn’t.”
“You don’t want Jane to be a designer?” I asked, somewhat confused.
She looked up, that beautiful ferocity returned. “What? No! I
