Lost and Found

She started to walk away. “Krissa. Wait.” Nate stopped her. She turned and looked at him, brows raised.

“Don’t just walk away.”

Her eyes flickered. “What do you mean?”

Nate took a step toward her, stopped. “I mean, Derek is clearly pissed off about something. Make him tell you what it is.”

She licked her lips, eyes darting between him and Derek. Nate, too, shot a glance Derek’s way. His scowl had deepened. Then her eyes came back to Nate. “I don’t want to,” she whispered.

“I know.”

Their gaze held and he willed her to stand up to her husband, to not let him get away with acting like an asshole for no reason.

Krissa turned to Derek. “Okay. I’ll ask again. What’s wrong?”

He said nothing. His jaw tightened.

“Oh, Derek.” Her shoulders relaxed and she went over to him, put her hands on his waist. “Just tell me. Are you mad at me about something? Because I wasn’t here with di

Derek looked away, shoved a hand into his hair. “No. Yes. I sound like a spoiled idiot.”

“Yes, you do.” She kissed his jaw. “Are you mad because Nate and I went out together?”

“That too.”

“We just went for a bike ride.”

“I know. I’m a jerk. You two can go have fun if you want. Although…when do you ever get any work done these days?”

She sighed. “I’ll do some work tonight for a few hours.”

Nate held in a groan. She’d been doing so well there. “Is that what you’d pla

She turned to him. She studied him. “Yes,” she finally said. “That’s what I’d pla

“Okay.” He didn’t want her doing it just because Derek thought she should. He wanted her to tell him she’d manage her work herself, but then, Nate was the one who’d gotten her into this, so maybe expecting her to stand up to Derek wasn’t fair.

“I dragged her with me, Derek,” he said. “She didn’t want to come. I thought it would be good for her—for both of us—to get out and get our minds off…you know.”

Derek nodded. He kissed Krissa’s forehead. “You’re right, Nate. I’m sorry. I guess I just felt left out. I was sitting in meetings all afternoon while you two were out having fun. But I’m glad you did.”

Nate saw Krissa inhale a deep breath, then let it out slowly. She gave them both a quick smile. “Okay, now I’m going to get changed.”

He was sorry he’d pushed her. But then, not really so sorry.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Krissa’d convinced him to go to the gallery showing in L.A. He’d rented a car, which gave him much more freedom to come and go as he wanted. Not that he had much to do. Driving during the day wasn’t a problem, but at night his eyes were still too sensitive to the oncoming headlights of cars and he obviously couldn’t wear dark glasses at night.

He’d gotten out and around town, visited some old friends and some old haunts, checked out some photography stores and galleries.

But the day before he was to leave for L.A., Krissa came to find him in the basement work-out room, where he bench-pressed ever increasing weights. He’d put on weight from eating Krissa’s cooking, and felt more like his old self physically. He’d fully recovered from the botulism, other than his goddamn eyes.

“I just did the ovulation test,” she a

“Oh. Great.”

“No, it’s not great. You’re going away. Just when we need to…uh…”

“Oh, yeah. Damn.” He lowered the weight and stared at her. “Well, I wasn’t that enthusiastic about going anyway.”

“But you should go. I said that before.” Her pretty mouth pouted and he could see her thinking.

“Well, then, the other option is you come with me.”

She tilted her head to one side. “I guess I could. I don’t have client meetings or anything until Monday next week. But what about Derek?”

“He should come too.”

“If we’re going to…”

He nodded. “Check with him, then.”

“We can talk about it tonight when he’s home.”

But Derek said he couldn’t take off for two days to go to L.A. “I’ve got things scheduled that I can’t move. I’m about to close a huge sale. I need to be here.”

“Oh.” Nate could read the disappointment on Krissa’s expressive face, her eyes cast down, mouth dipping at the corners.

“But you two go,” Derek said.

Krissa’s head shot up. “Really?”

The three of them all looked at each other for a long moment as they each weighed the implication of that. Krissa looked from Derek to Nate and back. Nate watched her, then looked at Derek.

Derek nodded. “Yeah. Go. Do what you have to do. It’s fine.”

“But we wanted you to be there when…” Krissa’s voice trailed off.

Derek shrugged. “I know. I want to be, too. But we don’t want to blow another opportunity and…” his gaze flicked back to Nate. “This might be the last chance.”

Nate had said nothing to Derek about leaving. Again, he felt that faint hint that Derek maybe wanted him gone. He wasn’t trying to convince him to stay any longer, that was for sure.

“Are you sure, Derek?” he asked quietly.

Derek was looking at Krissa, and he smiled faintly. “Yeah.”

Nate’s gut tightened as he walked into Gallery 228 on Melrose Avenue.

The buzz of conversation mingled with cool jazz sax music in the über-stylish building. Gleaming golden wood floors met stark white walls.

He and Krissa paused in the foyer. He took a long breath. She reached for his hand and squeezed it.

“It’s fine,” she said.

He studied her. She wore a violet silk dress, strapless, with a big bow over her breasts that made him think about reaching out and tugging it. The dress skimmed over her slim body to just above her knees, and high-heeled barely-there sandals added a few inches to her height. With more makeup than she usually wore, she looked stu

He’d had to dig deep into his bag for something to wear. The black jacket he’d pulled out had been wrinkled until he’d hung it in the steamy bathroom, an old trick learned while traveling. He wore it over dark jeans, with a loose white linen shirt and a thin scarf draped loosely around his neck. He hadn’t been sure about the jeans, but hey, he was an artist, he could get away with it.

“Nate!” Greg greeted him, a drink in his hand. He put out his free hand to shake Nate’s. “So glad you could make it!”

Nate shook Greg’s hand, taking in the owner of Gallery 228 in his gold velvet jacket and ski

“Greg, this is my friend Krissa. Krissa, Greg Boscoe.”

Krissa shook hands with Greg with a smile. “Pleased to meet you.”

Greg eyed her and gave Nate an approving look. “Likewise. Come on in. I’ll get you a drink and then introduce you around.”

He led them into the gallery. People crowded the long space, standing in front of the images hung on the wall, artfully lit with small spotlights hanging from the exposed beams of the ceiling. Experimentally, Nate removed his dark glasses. He blinked. As long as he stayed out of the direct illumination of the lights, it wasn’t too bad in there, despite all the white reflecting around him. He tucked the glasses into the inside pocket of his jacket.

Nate’s eyes went to the first image—his photographs of fishing docks he’d taken in Thailand. A thrill of pride rushed through him at the display of his work and all the people there to see it. He glanced at Krissa and she gave him an excited smile with a hitch of one bare shoulder. He reached for her hand and took it in his, held it as they followed Greg to the bar at the back of the gallery.

“This is very cool,” she murmured to him.

“I guess.”

When they each had a glass of Merlot in their hand, Greg began introducing them to other guests.