In From The Cold

Chapter 2
Good Vibrations

The blinding flash of lights from the press pool, cordoned off to the side of the red carpet, momentarily distracted him as he climbed out of the back of the town car. It had been a while since he'd attended an event such as this, and it sure looked like Black Pawn had went above and beyond to celebrate the sixth book in the Nikki Heat series. Raging Heat was already receiving early reviews, all exceedingly positive.

To the delight of the press, Castle struck a pose and flashed his winning smile. He then turned around and offered his hand, helping his beautiful and incredible daughter out of the back of the town car. And then he did the same for his always amazing and supportive mother. Martha and Alexis stood beside Castle, and he looked at the two of the most important women in his life, and smiled.

They both smiled back.

His heart swelled. He loved his mother and daughter dearly. The last few years had been trying, to say the least. He would not have been able to make it through this tough time without having them by his side. They may not be the stereotypical nuclear family, but they were still a solid, caring, tight-knit family unit.

Alexis hooked her arm around his elbow, and he leaned down to kiss her cheek as she beamed brilliantly. The press ate it all up. They had once loved the cavalier playboy—still did, though those occasions were much rarer than they had been in years past—but they were also enthralled by the devoted and loving father.

Castle guided his mother and daughter down the red carpet, stopping for the occasional photo, before proceeding through the front doors of The Plaza. Black Pawn had outdone themselves, renting The Plaza's Grand Ballroom for the occasion. Castle was used to grand affairs, but nothing like the luxury that came with having a launch party at The Plaza.

Gina Cowell was waiting for him in the lobby. Her assistant, Benny, a lanky young man with circular spectacles, was standing off to her right, a clipboard in his hand.

His editor/ex-wife offered him a polite smile. "You look good, Richard," she said, acknowledging Alexis and Martha with a nod.

"As do you," Castle returned, noticing Gina was dressed in a gold champagne-colored Hervé Léger crisscross metallic bandage dress. The style and the color seemed to be her favorite for events such as these. It matched her hair.

"Thank you," Gina said with a tight grin. She gestured towards Benny. "We've got a room backstage set for you, if you want to wait and make a grand entrance, or…"

"No need for that," Castle shook his head. He frowned. "I thought we nixed that idea in our meeting three weeks ago."

Gina shrugged her shoulders. "I wasn't sure you were serious," she admitted. "After all, you are Richard Castle."

"I am, indeed," he smirked back, some of his old charm oozing through.

Martha laughed lightly, patting his arm affectionately. "You two finish hammering out the details, I'm heading in," she announced. She started away, but stopped and turned back. "Alexis, darling?"

"Coming, Grams," his daughter said, pausing to give him a quick kiss on the cheek before taking off after her grandmother. Castle chuckled to himself, knowing that between the pair his mother was the one keener to party. Though a college student now, Alexis still so often played the chaperon to her elders.

Gina shifted a little closer to him. He noticed how cautious she was around him. She'd been that way ever since Beckett died. Gina placed a hand gently on his shoulder, looking him in the eye.

"How are you doing, Richard?" she asked.

"Fine," he answered without pause. "I'm fine, Gina. Really, I am."

"Good," Gina said with a nod, stepping back. "Because I was thinking it was time you started dating again."

Castle did a double take.

"Oh, no, not me, of course," Gina laughed lightly, shaking her head, as if the very idea of them dating once again was absurd. "No, I meant someone else." She snapped her finger and Benny obediently handed her a paper from his clipboard. She held it up for Castle to see. It was some sort of line chart, with a pie graph underneath it. "Our research shows that readers are more interested—"

"Whoa, whoa, stop right there," Castle held up his hands, giving her an incredulous look. "You want me to start dating again because a focus group told you so?"

Her mouth opened and then shut. She remained silent, not even bothering to deny it. She just stared at him, as if her will alone would make him comply.

Castle shook his head. "Honestly, I can't believe you, Gina," he said, disappointed. "I would have expected something like this from Paula. But not you. Not you, Gina." He quickly sidestepped around her and stalked towards the entrance to the ballroom.

Gina spun on her heels and marched after him, her assistant Benny working hard to keep up, fumbling with the loose leafs of paper on his clipboard.

"This isn't just about focus groups, Richard," Gina hissed, keeping pace with him. "I care about you. God knows why? But I do. I may not show it all the time. But I do."

Castle let out a harrumph, rolling his eyes, disbelieving.

Gina growled in an unusual show of frustration, grabbing him by the arm and yanking him to a halt just outside the entrance to the Grand Ballroom. He spun around and glared at her.

"She's dead, Richard," Gina ground out. "And frankly, I'm sorry to say this, but it's been three years, and you need to move on. And I don't mean having fun with those bimbos. You need a real relationship. Not just a one night stand."

He yanked his arm free, glowering at her. "Don't you think I know that?" he said. Castle sighed, combing his fingers through his hair. "Look, if it makes you feel better, I've decided to be opened to things. However, I'm not going to just jump right in with anyone. Those days are gone. I promise. I'm willing to move on… to have a relationship, but it has to be with the right woman. She has to be real. I'm done with fake. Okay?"

"Okay," Gina nodded, nullified. "That's all I wanted."

Castle took a deep breath, and inclined his head. "Right. So, if you don't mind, I think I'll like to join the party."

Gina waved her hand, dismissing him. He bowed dramatically, every bit his mother's son, and quickly made his exit. Gina watched him go, an uncharacteristic display of concern in her eyes.

XXX

The launch party was a huge success. Despite his initial protestations earlier, Castle did, indeed, make a grand entrance. The ballroom was filled with guests, all enjoying themselves. The drinks were flowing, the music was hopping, and the people were dancing. It was great. It was fun. It was just what Castle needed. He couldn't believe he had ever actually second guessed Black Pawn's suggestion of really throwing a big, blowout celebration for the sixth Nikki Heat book.

At the far end of the ballroom was a stage, behind which was a wall-size portrait of the author himself. For some reason, it reminded Castle of Citizen Kane. The portrait was framed by red and black bunting, with matching curtains draped around it. The image itself was very flattering of Castle. It presented him with a healthy glow, as he teased the camera with a playful smirk and a mischievous twinkle in his blue eyes.

It was an older picture, Castle acknowledged, but it was still a good one. It captured the rogue author that everyone seemed to adore. Plus, the vainglorious part of him thought, the photo really did do a good job of showing off his rugged handsomeness.

Castle spent much of the festivities mingling, shaking hands and playing host. Sometimes he was joined by Alexis or his mother. Though the former bowed out earlier, wanting to get back to her dorm room so she could study. Finals week was coming up, after all. He bid her farewell with a quick hug and kiss to the cheek. His mother abandoned him not too much later, spotting a gentleman her age who was without a ring. God help the poor bastard, Castle thought as he watched his mother weave through the crowd in the unlucky man's direction.

Feeling a little thirsty, Castle veered left and stepped around a group of bubbly blonde bimbos. They were all giggling and whispering amongst themselves like they had managed to sneak into some high society gala. Despite himself, he could not help but look them over. He really wasn't that interested in any of them, just… they were a very chesty bunch, and weren't really trying to hide it. One was practically falling out of her dress. Castle chuckled to himself, remembering how the old him would have absolutely relished seeing the ample cleavage that was being put on displayed by the chattering blondes.

But that was the old him—the pre-Beckett Richard Castle. He had made a promise to himself that he would stop his downward spiral into his previous playboy ways. It was time he pushed forward and became a better man. Despite her absence, Kate Beckett still had a profound influence on him.

When he was spotted, Castle smiled winningly at the group of babbling blondes, offering a quick wave. However, before he could continue on, they grabbed him and pulled them into their flock. He grunted in surprise, feeling their grabby hands dance all over his chest and shoulders as they took numerous selfies with him. One of the blondes even squeezed his butt. Eventually he was able to extricate himself from the group.

Squeezing his way through the crush of partygoers, Castle had to stop on occasion to shake hands with someone and thank them for attending. His facial muscles were getting tired from all the forced smiles. In due course, he was able to make his way to the bar, which was blessedly empty, save for a cluster of people. Castle found himself an empty spot away from the others. The mixologist—the hipster looking fellow behind the bar would have been offended if he was referred to as a bartender—made his way over to Castle and asked for his order.

"Scotch," Castle requested. "On the rocks, please."

"Yessir," the mixologist bobbed his head and turned around to pour him the drink.

"Make that two," came a confident and commanding voice. It sounded so eerily familiar, in both tone and inclination, that Castle was rooted to his spot, frozen in memory. He shook his head. It was impossible. The owner of that voice couldn't possibly be there. She had been dead for three years.

The mixologist jerked his head around and offered a quick nod.

As he waited for his scotch, Castle attempted to make a subtle move to check out the newcomer. To say she was breathtakingly stunning would have been a vast understatement.

The statuesque beauty stood poised and assured by the bar, confident in her body—so much like another tall woman he'd known. She wore a form fitting black Michael Kors sleeveless sheath dress that hugged her curves in all the right places. Her shoulder-length blonde hair was slightly curled, framing her exquisite facial features beautifully. Her brown eyes were absolutely gorgeous, even if they were somewhat hidden behind stylish eyeglasses.

"You're staring," the woman said, cocking her head slightly, revealing that she'd spotted him in her peripheral vision. Her lips quirked up in a tiny smirk as she added, "It's kind of creepy."

Castle blinked and shook his head. "Sorry," he said. "Just… has anyone ever told you that you have gorgeous eyes?"

She blinked, seemingly surprised by his line, but she soon recovered. Adjusting her stance, she turned to face him. "You try that on all the girls?"

Castle grinned and waggled his eyebrows. "Just the pretty ones."

The blonde laughed lightly. Castle frowned. That laugh, it sounded so familiar. He narrowed his eyes and gazed up at the woman, watching as she accepted her glass of scotch from the mixologist. The way she bobbed her head in thanks, and the way she shifted on her feet, it was all so eerily familiar. Castle turned and accepted his own scotch. He quickly brought it up to his lips and took a sip, pursing his lips as he savored the burn of the alcohol down his throat. He glanced at the woman again, studying her facial features: The cut of her jaw, the line of her nose, the beauty mark on her cheek.

He shook his head. No. That was impossible. He was just seeing what he wanted to see. Kate Beckett was dead. And besides, he reasoned with himself, Beckett had been brunette, while this woman was clearly blonde. He swallowed down another gulp of scotch before turning to face her again.

"Rick Castle," he stuck his hand out, flashing his winning smile.

"I know."

Idiot, Castle chided himself, of course she knows who you are.

"Nicole," she answered with a warm smile, ignoring his chagrin, and meeting his large hand with her smaller, more delicate one. "Nicole Brennon."