by Scott, S. L.
For show, I take a deep breath and exhale loud enough for her to hear. “See, Mom. I’m breathing. Gotta run.”
“Okay. Good luck and love you.”
“Thanks. Love you, Mom.”
When I return to the office, I meet Mrs. St. James and sit back as they go over the finer points of the contracts in detail.
Andrew studies one of the amendments and then says, “Yes, that’s not something we need to discuss right now. I’ll get the transition team’s eyes on the incubator program.”
Mrs. St. James says, “STJ remains for the duration as agreed.”
“Yes, and then will be transferred back into her name.” Standing up, Andrew reaches over the desk to shake his hand again. “We won’t keep you. We know you must have a lot to do before you get to enjoy your retirement.”
Walking us to the door, John, as he asked us to call him, says, “I hear you’re moving to New York, Nick?”
“I’m the lucky guy.” We move into the hall as a group toward the exit.
He adds, “Hopefully a move this big comes with a promotion.”
Andrew pipes in, “It comes with the perk of a girlfriend, too.”
I’m quick to interject. “That came out wrong. We didn’t hire one. I was already dating her when we signed the contracts.”
Everyone laughs, including me. John says, “A woman is always good motivation. I take it it’s serious?”
His wife scolds, “John.”
He shrugs and still looks at me to respond. I say, “It is.”
I catch Andrew’s attention with my answer, but he doesn’t say anything. John adds, “Maybe you’ll come for dinner once your move is done and you can bring your girlfriend. It’s always good to know a few people in a large city like this one when you first move. You’ve met Jackson, but I’m sure our daughter would be happy to show you around. I know I’d want the same for our kids if they moved interstate.”
“Thank you, John, that sounds great.”
I’m patted on the back.
“If she’s a catch, don’t waste any time getting her to the altar. We may have started later in life, but marrying Martine was the best thing I ever did. Having kids is ranked right there with it.”
“Thanks for the advice.”
After we leave the building, I’m tempted to punch Andrew. “Really? Did you really call my girlfriend a perk of the promotion?”
“Like you said, it came out wrong. But it was good for a laugh.” We walk to the street where we see a line of cabs waiting. “He was a nice guy. Smokin’ hot daughter.”
I check the time, hoping we’re done for the day. I wouldn’t mind surprising Natalie again. “No doubt we’ll meet her down the track. What are you doing the rest of the day?”
“We have a conference call with Beacon in Seattle in an hour. We can go back to the hotel and Dad will conference us in.”
“Damn, I forgot about that.” There go my plans of cutting out early.
At the hotel, we convene in his suite and lose the rest of the day and then some to a discussion about the buyout of a company in the Pacific Northwest and trimming fat from Manhattan Financial. When we hang up, Andrew says, “It looks like you have your choice of cities—Seattle or Manhattan?”
“What do you mean?”
“If we buy Beacon, someone from the family has to lead the transition. You know that. That was the consensus when we started the talks on expansion two years ago.”
“What did I know? I was at Berkley.”
“Well now you have a seat at the grownup’s table.” He stands and grabs a beer from the fridge. Holding it up in offering, I shake my head, not in the mood for this bullshit. The relocation. Maybe I need the beer. “I’ll go where I’m needed. Are you part of this family or—”
“Fuck you, Andrew. I’ll take New York, and you can have Seattle.”
“I might not be able to. Dad’s been talking about me leading LA sooner rather than later.” That’s always been my brother’s dream. Am I going to be the asshole who takes that away from him? “Listen to me, Nick. You’ve done a good job closing Manhattan Financial so quickly.”
My dad always told me I’d feel a sense of pride from doing a job well and one that benefits my family is even better. I say, “Christiansen Wealth Management now.”
He chuckles. “I stand corrected.”
I walk to the door, feeling like I’m having to make a choice between what I want and what’s expected of me. Like my loyalty to my family is being questioned. I just made Natalie and me official, even told her I loved her. Was it said based on location—me being in the same city—or because I’ve reached a point where I don’t want to be without her?
I know the answer regarding my personal life, but what have I gotten myself into professionally? Andrew’s sudden change in my relocation is frustrating. Two weeks ago, he was sure I should relocate to New York due to the takeover. Now he drops Seattle into the conversation as if I wouldn’t have an opinion.
“There’s always room for you in management. You’d be able to buy that beach house like you want. Surf at sunrise, drive a Lamborghini, and have an office with a view of all of LA.”
With my hand on the doorknob, I turn back. “I’m not the same guy I used to be.”
He twists off the beer bottle cap. “Because you have a girlfriend? The Christiansen brothers could take the world by storm and grow this business internationally. What will it take, little brother? A Maserati instead?”
“We went from New York to me now moving around the world. That escalated in the blink of an eye. How about because I know what I want and will fight for it. I’m not going to be a pushover, and, Andrew, don’t become another LA asshole who thinks he can buy happiness.”
After taking a long drag from the bottle, he asks, “Now you’re an expert?”
“No, just your brother who wants to respect his elders.”
The cap is shot across the room and hits the door. “We’ll make a deal. I won’t be a douchebag, and you’ll consider Seattle if need be.”
Nodding, I take in the offer, and then say, “I’ll consider it. Later, because I need to go. I promised to take Natalie to dinner.”
“Before you go, I need you to sign an amendment to the Manhattan Financial contract. We gave them a heads-up about the change we want to make. There’s been a lot of back and forth with John St. James. It’s going to come down to agreeing or losing a large incentive.”
“I thought this deal was done?”
He goes to the console and takes a file from his briefcase. When he hands it to me, he says, “Garrett Stans helped pinpoint some smaller loans to clean up the books, and we’ve had Larson in corporate being the bad guy to keep our name off their tongues.”
I shake my head because that makes no sense. They aren’t stupid. “As if somehow, they won’t know a Christiansen, or three, had anything to do with it?”
“They made this deal look golden, and we signed the offer, but once we had more detailed access to all financials, there are some issues that need to be handled. We’re handling them by getting these losses off the books before year-end. But you’re still the point man on the deal from our legal team, so we need you to sign this amendment.”
Handing me a pen, he points at the line. “Sign here. Larson will handle the delivery since you’re traveling.”
“I could swing by and take them since I’m here in the city.”
“Good idea. Keeps it personal. The St. Jameses should like that. Maybe they’ll make this easy for us to move forward by signing.”
After scanning the amendment, I sign and wrap it up in the folder. “We’re good?”
“All good. See you in LA, little brother.”
“See you.” I leave his room and stop by my room down the hall to drop off the file. I can take it over tomorrow before I head to the airport. With Seattle weighing me down, I don’t bother changing clothes and head out to meet Natalie. I need to talk to her and hope she can talk some sense into me
for even considering the idea of moving before we have a chance to be together.
I know her, though. I already know what she’ll say.
She’ll never want to stand in the way of something she thinks will make me happy. That means I have to make her realize that there is no happiness if I’m not with her.
23
Natalie
Nick. Christiansen.
I bite my lip just thinking about him, wishing I was biting his bottom lip instead. I’d settle for his shoulder or his bicep. Definitely his earlobe, because I notice he shivers and then always kisses me right after when I do it. I don’t even think he’s aware of some of his habits. I hope he never breaks them.
He has me acting like a teen again. The excitement to see him is so overwhelming that I could make a fool of myself in front of all of Manhattan and not give a damn.
And that’s exactly what I do the moment I see him. I set my cocktail down and dash through the crowd. Landing against his hard body, I sigh when those strong arms lift me off the ground. A deep chuckle runs through his chest before reaching my ears, and I can readily admit I’m addicted to the sound.
I’m addicted to all of him.
I’ve never felt sexier than when he looks at me and smiles like I just made his day better. Hell, his life better than before we met. It’s as if the safest place in the world is in his arms because he holds me like I’m precious cargo. Unless it’s sexual and then my body purrs under his touch. When he listens to me, even when I’m rambling, I feel valued by asking questions and participating. I don’t have one-sided conversations with Nick. I feel so much, so strongly that I could probably die happy because he makes me feel more than good enough for the first time in my life. I’m above the bar in his eyes, and he’s tops for me.
And it all came so quickly.
Does time matter when you know it’s right? When your soul feels so connected to someone else that it comes alive for the first time? I’ve stopped worrying about timelines and what’s considered responsible. I act based on how he makes me feel—cherished—and now live accordingly.
“He said yes,” I say when Nick sets me on my feet again.
“Who?”
“Nick, your idea. It totally worked.”
Chuckling, he says, “Can I take credit for an idea when I’m not sure what you’re referring to?”
I take his hand and lead him back to where I left my belongings at the bar. “Our table isn’t ready, so I thought we could have a drink while waiting to celebrate what a great team we make.”
“I’m all for celebrating us, but fill me in on the details?”
When the bartender looks my way, I circle my finger in the air for another round and then turn back to Nick, my gorgeous boyfriend. My happiness can’t be contained, and it’s not just because I made a client happy, but because we’re working. We took a chance on each other, and it’s paying off. I’m not sure I can imagine life getting much better, but when he moves here full-time, I bet he proves me wrong.
I say, “The cookies. You were right. I was definitely overthinking it. Guys aren’t complicated. They love cookies, and I found out brownies go a long way toward earning points with men who can buy anything. Because what they don’t do is think of the simpler things in life, the little joys, the things that make you remember something special from your childhood.”
“And baked goods do that?”
“They did this time, and that’s what counts. My client got the guy, the biggest player in town, and he even asked her to move in.”
“That’s all it took?”
“I’m sure there’s more to the story, but it’s fun to be a small part of making it happen. Who knew baked treats held so much power? Not me, but I do now.”
He leans down and kisses my forehead. “I do love your treats.”
“Stop,” I say, dragging out the O a little longer. Oh, how I love a long and tingly O. Swatting his chest and then pulling him closer, I coo, “Go on . . .”
When two rum and Cokes are set on the bar before us, I’m easily distracted and hand him one. I take the other and tap the rim against his glass. “I didn’t make a lot of money, but I think I’ve discovered an additional revenue stream. All this time, I was catering to the socialites and bigwigs of New York—millionaires, billionaires, and pretty much anyone who can afford my rates—but I was overlooking an important component of the gift-giving business. After discussing it with Tatum this afternoon, we decided we need a mid-range line of services. Sure, I can organize a private jet to the Maldives for the weekend or pick up that Lamborghini someone’s husband has always dreamed of owning. The royalties are phenomenal, but those aren’t as common. So if we hire somebody, we can have them cater to our wealthy clientele but offer them something they’re not used to getting.”
His hand is distracting as it rubs circles on my hip. Such a tease . . . He asks, “And what is that?”
“Home. They’re so used to jet-setting that they’ve forgotten about the creature comforts of home. Stockings hung from the mantel on Christmas Eve, private cooking lessons for a romantic evening in. Or sharing that perfect bottle of Chateau Margaux by the fire on a cold winter’s night. Though that’s one hell of an expensive bottle of wine, you get where I’m going with this. My clients are used to the finer things in life, but they’ve forgotten what matters.”
A spark of pride lies in his eyes. “And what matters, Natalie?”
“Us, and building a life together, family, friends, and being surrounded by the people you love.” I don’t know why embarrassment creeps through me, but I look down at the drink in my hand, wishing the heat in my cheeks would disappear. With my heart on my sleeve, I peek up at him. “Do I sound crazy?”
“No, you sound like a woman who knows what she wants and has a plan to get it.”
“Why does it sound bad when women are ambitious? Like it’s a dirty word or something.”
“It’s not to me.” Brushing the backs of his fingers across my cheek, he lowers his voice, and says, “It’s incredibly sexy. Your excitement is intoxicating.” Tapping his glass to mine, he says, “Here’s to you.”
I feel his voice vibrating deep inside me, my heart clinging to the words of support.
We drink but don’t have time for another before the hostess finds us to lead us to our table. After ordering our meals, I lean closer, hating that there’s a table between us. I’d rather be next to him or, even better, on his lap. Why’d I insist on going out when being alone with him is so deliciously divine? To distract myself from lunging across this table and settling onto his lap, I ask, “How was your day?”
The smile I love so much doesn’t bring joy to his eyes or reveal his dimples this time, making me wonder what’s on his mind. After looking around the room, his hazel eyes land back on me, making me feel special like I’m the only one he truly sees.
He asks, “Can you do your job remotely, or do you need to be in New York?”
“A bit of both, and also it depends on when. Sometimes I need to be here to fine-tune details for clients, but otherwise, I do a lot over email and phone. Why?”
“Well, I want to know if you'd like to come to California? Thinking for a weekend, or if you can work remotely, however long you’d like. My family has a beach house, so I was thinking we could stay there. It’s not much, more like a bungalow, but it’s pretty great. That’s where I go when I want to get away, or I’m looking to surf.”
This time, he’s the one leaning closer. Lowering his voice, he continues, “I’d like you to meet my parents and my brother.” He appears to back away from the offer as he leans back in his chair. The light that flickered in his eyes when he asked has disappeared. “Only if you want.”
Studying him, I can tell something is off—his eyes are wandering as much as his thoughts appear to be. The distance between us feels like it’s growing larger than the wood table, but I try not to let it bother me. I’m probably reading too much into it anyway. “You want to introduce me to y
our family?”
“My mom is excited to meet you.”
“It’s so sweet that you talk to her about me.”
“Have you mentioned to me to your family?”
Now I feel bad. Lowering my voice, I reply, “I’m always honest with you, so I’m not going to lie or make up an excuse. The thing is, my parents saw me go through a terrible relationship. Tatum has witnessed me at my lowest, when I believed that I was no good for anyone and lucky to have him. So the truth is, Tatum knows, as you’ve seen, but I was planning to introduce you to my parents and brother.” When he doesn’t say anything, I add, “We have a family dinner once a month, and I was going to ask if you wanted to join me in two weeks.”
“But you haven’t mentioned me?”
“I don’t talk to them all the time. They’re busy, and I’m busy. If you said yes, I was going to tell them I’d be bringing a date.” I take a sip of the rum and then say, “If you said no, I’d wait until we’ve been dating a bit longer. I don’t like to disappoint them. But to be fair, I believed we’d work out, so I haven’t had a doubt about dinner with them and you meeting them then.”
He smirks. “You believe we’ll work out?”
I turn away, not letting him win, but when I grin, too, I know he does anyway. “Did I just open a can of worms?”
“You did.” He reaches over and takes my hand. “I really don’t care that you haven’t talked to them about us. We’re newer, and when you’ve been burned by someone you cared about, it’s always best to take the next relationship in stride.” He takes his glass in hand and says, “Here’s to getting it right this time.”
“To getting it right.” Our eyes are fixed on each other as we drink. Lowering the glass back down, I say, “Tell me more about this beach house in California.”
“It’s one of my favorite places in the world. Wait until you see that water.”
We eat, the conversation lighter, but I have this weird feeling he’s holding back. Since he never answered prior, I ask, “What’s on your mind?”
The smile I expect to see doesn’t arrive. He spins the glass around with his deft fingers, the distance creeping between us. Whispering over the table, I add, “Nick, are you going to talk to me?”