"Derek!" I exclaimed, dropping the remnants of my orange in the sink and running into his arms.

His clothing was damp from the rain and his sandy brown hair was stuck to his forehead. I squeezed his waist tightly, resting my chin on his shoulder as he wrapped his arms protectively around me.

"Do you want to explain to me why you ran off last night?" Derek's words were muffled against my hair but I could detect a tone in his voice that indicated he was pretty pissed.

I let go of his waist and stepped back to look at him. He appeared fairly calm, though his eyebrows beginning to furrow showed otherwise.

"I was drunk, apparently."

"Do you realize I spent two hours walking all over that fucking hotel trying to find you? When I couldn't figure out where you were, I called the fucking police!" Derek shouted, throwing his hands in the air.

I was taken aback by his outburst. "You... you did?" My voice sounded frail.

"Oh, you bet I did! But they told me I couldn't file a missing person's report because you hadn't been missing long enough! So I've spent all fucking morning driving around town, going to your office and anywhere else you might be, and here you are at your fucking house eating a fucking orange like nothing is the fucking matter! You couldn't call me or something?"

Guilt quickly consumed me. No one had yelled at me like that before. Derek had never yelled at me at all.

"I-I'm sorry," I stuttered in shock.

The air was full of tension. I felt like I couldn't talk to him. Suddenly, the man I'd been in love with for years felt like someone I barely knew.

"I hope the fuck you are!" Derek shouted again.

All my life I've never been afraid of anyone, and I'd certainly never been scared of Derek, of all people, but the way he blew up at me scared me.

"Where the hell were you anyway?" he asked, slightly softening his tone.

Oh, god. Should I tell him I was with Nick? What if he freaks out and decides to hunt him down? What if he breaks off our engagement? What if he-

"Carrie, are you going to answer me?" Derek huffed. He crossed his arms impatiently.

"I... I was with... a friend," I decided against telling him the whole truth.

I didn't want to lie to Derek, and it wasn't a total lie. Nick was sort of a friend. Maybe. I decided it was best if I just didn't tell him which friend I'd been with.

"Which friend?" he demanded like he didn't believe me.

Damnit.

"Monica," I blurted out, hoping he would buy it and let it go.

Monica had been my best friend for seven years. We'd gone to law school together and she'd been hired by the same firm I had. I spent a tremendous amount of time with Monica, and Derek knew that, so I thought he would believe that I'd been out with her.

"Why didn't you come tell me you wanted to run off with her?" Confusion creased his forehead.

"I-I wasn't thinking," I shook my head, wondering why the hell I'd been stupid enough to leave without him. "I drank too much and... I don't know."

Derek eyed me skeptically. It was obvious he wasn't really buying it but he didn't attempt to pull any additional information out of me, much to my relief.

"Oh." He reached into his back pocket. "Here's your phone."

I quickly glanced through all my missed calls, texts and emails. I had yet to call the firm and let them know that I would be taking a sick day. The day was already halfway over and I just knew I'd be getting called into one of the partners' offices as soon as I stepped off the elevator the next day.

"Anything important?" Derek asked as he sauntered into the kitchen for a drink.

"Well, I didn't even wake up until I was already late for my first meeting and I'm sure I lost that client," I groaned. "I can't believe I screwed up like this. I never do this. I'm always so professional. What's my boss going to think? And I'm still missing meetings right now! I've stood up like four people today."

"Calm down." Derek walked over to stand in front of me, resting a hand on either side of the spot I'd planted myself on the counter. "I'll call your office and explain that you're horribly ill with the hangover bug - not necessarily in those words - and then you can take the rest of the day off. Your secretary can reschedule your meetings. Just relax, babe."

There's the Derek I knew. Caring, helpful, supportive, willing to lie for me so I wouldn't get in too much trouble...

"Thank you." I breathed a sigh of relief and rested my forehead against his shoulder.

"I'm sorry I yelled," he said quietly. His thumb rubbed circles over my thigh. "Hey. Where did you get these?"

I looked down as he stepped back and I realized he was pointing to Nick's clothes I was wearing. Shit. I should've changed the second I walked in the house.

I quickly made up an answer that would avoid another shouting match.

"Oh, I've had these forever," I shrugged. I hoped he couldn't tell I was lying.

"I'm surprised," he frowned. "If you wear sweats they're always tight yoga pants or something."

"Sometimes I like to be a little more comfortable." I tried to explain it away.

"This is a man's shirt." Derek gestured to Nick's white shirt.

I lightly squeezed the hem of the shirt, feeling how damp it still was. "It's one of my dad's old shirts."

"I don't remember your dad being that thin," he said, perplexed. "But whatever."

My muscles relaxed when he stopped asking questions.

Derek left the room to call my office and I started trying to wind down and rid myself of the so-called hangover bug.

I hopped off the counter, looking through my phone again. Six missed calls from work. Two missed calls from Monica. Seventeen texts from Monica. Emails from multiple clients. And an unpleasant text from my boss asking where in the living fuck I was.

I texted Monica first. I told her I was safe at home with a nasty hangover.

She responded, relieved to hear that I hadn't been kidnapped, and told me she'd been worried sick when I hadn't shown up for work or answered my phone.

In the other room I could hear Derek's voice as he talked to my secretary, Hannah. She was a sweet girl, always trying to help me with anything and everything. Of course, it was her job, but she took it a lot more seriously than most people would. I could tell how much she cared.

"Yeah. I was surprised too. It's not really like her." I heard Derek say.

Listening to Derek talk about how my actions in the past several hours were unlike me caused memories of the night before to make another appearance in my thought stream.

I thought about when I met Nick at the party. He was so handsome. He was hands down the best looking man there. I was sure every woman in the ballroom secretly wanted to go home with him. I couldn't remember if I'd wanted to or not, but I'd certainly let the man take me home.

Memories of this morning and Nick's lips on my neck flooded my thoughts. As much as I didn't want to admit it, I had enjoyed that. The illogical part of my conscience had begun to miss the feeling of his hands on my hips and his mouth on my neck.

I hugged his baggy shirt to my chest. I knew I couldn't cheat on Derek again, and I wasn't about to leave him for a man I barely knew, but something about Nick made me want to ignore our one-night sex-capade and actually try being friends with him. I wanted to get to know him better. I wasn't sure why but something drew me to him. Maybe it was his smooth words, or his soft lips, or his gorgeous body. Maybe it was the way he smirked, or how his bangs fell in his face, or the way he said my name. I couldn't narrow it down.

Something about Nick Granger had a scandalous part of me hooked, and I started to wonder if I had been more intoxicated from the alcohol or from him.

I searched through my phone absentmindedly, pressing the button to create a new contact. We hadn't exchanged numbers but I assumed Derek would have Nick's. However, I couldn't very well ask Derek to give me his phone, and I knew he wouldn't be okay with me looking for Nick's number. I remembered he had a company contacts list on his computer which I recalled him leaving in my study before we'd left for the party.

I tiptoed down the hall toward my home office, cringing slightly when one of the French doors made a pop as I opened it. I hoped Derek didn't notice, knowing he'd be mad if he caught me on his computer. This was one object Derek never liked anyone touching but himself.

I sneaked over to my desk and took a seat in front of the laptop. I was surprised, but relieved to see he didn't have it password protected when I opened it.

I went to the search bar, typing "contacts list." Finding no results, I tried again with "company contacts." Still nothing. I decided to search through his documents, hoping to locate the list in his files.

I finally came across a file titled HBH Employees and clicked on it, bringing up a list of all the people working at Hampton, Burns and Hampton, and their email addresses, phone numbers, and home addresses.

I scrolled down to the last names that started with G, finding three people with the last name Granger. There was a Michael Harper Granger, a Jennifer Granger, and – bingo - Nicholas Granger.

I quickly entered Nick's information in my phone and closed the file. I was ready to shut the computer and go back into the kitchen as if I'd never left the room, but something on the home screen caught my eye. Derek had a desktop shortcut titled D&C. I automatically assumed it stood for Derek and Carrie. Curiosity clawed at me and I couldn't help myself. I double clicked the file, opening up a spreadsheet. I was confused. I expected it to have something to do with our upcoming wedding. The more I stared at the screen, the more perplexed I became.

There was a long list of dates going back to July of the previous year. Next to the dates were large sums of money anywhere from five thousand to twenty-two thousand. I frowned, scrolling through the spreadsheet. There was a list of locations beside the amounts of money. The Bahamas, Cayman Islands, Switzerland... I realized this was a list of wire transfers to offshore accounts in multiple countries. Derek had never mentioned any involvement in something like this.

It didn't list where the money was coming from. I knew Derek didn't earn that much on a monthly basis, but I didn't want to believe he could be doing anything illegal.

I shook my head, closing the file and the computer. I could hear Derek saying goodbye on the phone and I quickly made my way back into the kitchen where I began washing what little was left of my orange down the drain.

"Hannah's going to reschedule all your appointments," Derek said.

"Thank you," I said softly, turning off the water.

He leaned back against the door facing, concern etched in his expression. "Are you okay?" he asked.

There was no way I was going to tell him I'd been going through his computer or ask him why he was transferring money to offshore accounts. He'd likely blow a fuse before I uttered half the sentence. I finally understood why he'd never been okay with anyone else using his laptop.

"Yeah." I put on my best fake smile. "Fine."

He cocked an eyebrow. "You sure?"

"I'm fine, Derek," I nodded. "I'm just going to go work on a presentation. I have a long list of notes to write for court." That much was true.

"That case you've been working on for three months?"

"Yeah," I sighed, already exhausted just thinking about it. "I'm sick of Mrs. Wembley calling me every other day to tell me the same old shit I've already heard sixteen times. It doesn't give me any new information to work with. It's maddening."

Derek chuckled. "Let me just move my computer so it's not in your way."

I nodded, watching how quickly he left the room to retrieve it. I was growing very suspicious. I really hoped it was all a big misunderstanding, but from what I'd seen, it didn't look like Derek was involved in anything good, or legal for that matter.

I couldn't imagine where he was getting such large sums of money. I knew his father wouldn't pay him that much because he always wanted Derek to appreciate working hard for your income and seeing the tougher side of making a living and building a career. I was worried Derek had gotten himself into something really awful.

Despite my nagging curiosity, I decided to act as though I had absolutely no idea about it and hope he never caught on that I knew anything. I figured if he wanted me to know about it he would've told me, and he hadn't, so he obviously didn't want me to find out. To an extent, I could understand why he wouldn't, but that didn't make the ache in my heart lessen any.

I wandered into the study again as Derek was walking out, his computer under his arm.

"I'll be in here a few hours probably," I said, expecting the document I was about to type up to take me awhile.

Derek nodded. "I'm actually going to run to the office. I have a meeting in about an hour and then I'll come back and check on you."

Part of me wanted to tell him not to come back. At least not for the rest of the day. Between the way he'd snapped at me earlier, the fifty-fifty chance that he'd cheated on me with Christine, and the offshore accounts I'd discovered, I almost felt like I couldn't trust him. But I knew if I told him not to bother coming by, he'd get suspicious, and I didn't want to light the fuse on another argument. It had been a stressful enough day already.

"Okay," I faked a smile, plopping down at my desk once again.

Derek didn't kiss me or hug me before he left. That was unlike him. I tried to shrug it off as my mind overthinking things.

I opened my computer to begin typing once he'd left. Two bullet points into my work, I remembered I now had Nick's number. I looked at my phone, staring at his contact for a good five minutes before finally deciding to call him. We needed to talk, I told myself. We needed to fix this mess somehow.

I immediately wished I'd opted for texting him when I got nervous hearing the first ring. I kind of hoped he wouldn't answer. I wasn't even sure what to say. My heart started pounding on the second ring and I could feel my pulse in my throat and that horrible nervous feeling in my stomach.

I was just about to chicken out and hang up when a voice came on the line.

"Granger," Nick answered simply.

I hesitated. Half of me wanted to hang up and half of me wanted to talk to him.

"Hello?" he asked.

"H-Hi..." I finally spoke up, cringing at the way I stuttered.

"Carrie?"

"Yeah." I was staring a hole into the wall.

"What, uh... why are you calling me?" He sounded equally confused and surprised.

I sighed, playing with the hem of his shirt. "I got your number from the employee contact list and I guess I just wanted to talk to you – clear the air. I probably shouldn't have called though. I'm sorry."

"No. No. It's fine," Nick said. "I'm glad you called."

"You are?"

"Of course." He sounded like he was smiling. "Hey, I'm actually about to go into a meeting right now but I do want to talk to you. Meet me for dinner tonight?"

Dinner? That couldn't be a good idea. How was I going to explain it away to Derek when he asked where I was going? But I wanted – needed – to have this talk with Nick. I had to try to mend the issue, for the sake of Derek's and my relationship.

I considered the offer quickly and agreed to have dinner with him. Although I shouldn't have, I couldn't help the smile playing across my lips.

"How 'bout eight o'clock at that little Italian restaurant on Grand Avenue?" Nick suggested.

"I'll see you then."