Chapter 22
Sitting at a red light on Wellington, I turned to look at Nick’s tense profile again. His hands were on the steering wheel, his eyes fastened to some distant point I couldn’t see, and though it was warm in his car, he kept shivering. What was out there? What was he searching for?
When we’d woken at first light, inside that tiny little room at the back of the Fleur de Sel restaurant, I’d opened my eyes to catch Nick holding a strand of my hair up to the morning sun. We’d touched each other again, all over, slowly and gently, and after spending a few hours on the cot, had decided to clean up and organize the kitchen. While I’d taken Esco out for his morning business, Nick had phoned Chef Helen, letting her know that he owed her in food and booze. Surprisingly, he still had a job
