by Nell Dixon
"You must think I'm a real idiot," she remarked after they had placed their order and the waiter had departed.
"Why would I think that?" He fiddled about with the stem of his glass, twisting the crystal around.
"Well, I bet you're used to women who often come to this kind of place. You know, fancy menus and all this kind of thing." She couldn't help noticing the movement of his long supple fingers on the glass. The same hands that had held her so closely just a few hours ago.
"Jenni, some of the women I know who could read that menu could only read a menu. In the same way that the only math they can do is in relation to the limit they have on their credit card." He caught her gaze and held it. "Don't put yourself down, Jenni. I'm proud to take you anywhere."
She was glad when the waiter returned with their starters. "This looks good." She admired the artistic arrangement of fish on her plate. She had never been anywhere so nice before. Not long before her father's death, her parents had taken her to a steak restaurant as a reward for passing her exams. It had been a rare and unexpected treat. It had been the only time she could ever remember in her life when she'd felt she had succeeded in pleasing them.
"Penny for your thoughts?" Nate watched her.
"I was thinking about my parents," she replied truthfully, "I was wishing..." Her voice trailed off. "It isn't important."
"Whatever you were thinking, it made you look sad, Jen. You have very expressive eyes and I know it wasn't a happy thought." The note of warm concern in his voice moved her. His perception touched her heart.
"Tell me more about your family," she said. Although she had known Nate for a long time now, she knew very little about his private life.
Nate took a sip of his mineral water before he answered.
"My father is a surgeon. He's semi-retired now and does mainly private work. Mum is from France, so they go over there quite often." The main course arrived. He paused until the waiter had gone again before continuing. "Jerome is two years older than me and Nathalie. He's a photographer. Barnaby is the baby of the family, although at six foot four, he wouldn't thank me for saying so. He's an artist, like Mum."
A pang of something like loss resonated through Jenni's heart at Nate's description.
"What about you, Jenni? Do you have any aunts or uncles?"
She shook her head and prodded her trout with the fish knife. "My parents were both only children. They were in their forties when they adopted me. That's why I wanted to find my birth mother. I don't know who my real father is. It just says Father Unknown on my birth certificate. I have so many questions I need answers for."
The gentle touch of his hand on her cheek made her lift her gaze from the poor piece of fish she had been mindlessly poking on her plate.
"I'm sure you'll get your answers soon, Jenni."
She swallowed. His tender caress, combined with the compassionate tone of his voice, rendered her unable to think straight.
"Nate! Jenni! What a nice surprise to see you two here!"
At the sound of his sister's voice, Nate whipped his hand away from Jenni's face as if her skin had burnt his fingers. His abrupt withdrawal left Jenni with a racing heart and her emotions in a whirl.
Chapter Six
"Nathalie, we were just talking about you." Nate stood up to greet his sister in traditional Gallic fashion, with kisses on both cheeks.
Like Nate, Nathalie was tall, with the same jet black hair. Hers fell in an abundance of curls all the way down to her waist. Dressed in a smart, tailored suit, she looked very glamorous and pretty. Her eyes twinkled at Nate's discomfiture at being caught in an intimate moment with Jenni.
"I do hope my brother isn't working you too hard, Jenni?" Nathalie queried.
Jenni smiled in response. "Oh no, Nate was very kindly treating me to lunch. He mentioned you had recommended the restaurant here."
"Well, if Nate took any notice at all of something that I've said, then it's a first. You look fabulous, Jenni. I hardly recognized you."
"You're welcome to join us if you haven't eaten." Nate felt obligated to offer, but couldn't help hoping his sister would take a hint and disappear.
"I've eaten already and much as I'd love to, I can't stay. Besides, I'm sure you don't really want a gooseberry sitting with you while you eat, do you?"
Nate groaned inwardly while Jenni looked a little embarrassed. After more kisses, his twin departed, leaving a faint trail of perfume in her wake.
Nate resumed his seat opposite Jenni. "My sister the diplomat," he joked.
"She seems to have got the wrong impression, seeing us here together."
"Well, that's Nathalie. She's an incurable romantic. She falls in and out of love like other people take a bath."
Jenni continued to pick at her fish. "And you?"
Nate wasn't sure how to answer her. Jenni had never asked him such a personal question before.
"I was in love once." His voice sounded distant as if it belonged to someone else.
"You never talk about Cerys."
He couldn't read the expression in Jenni's eyes, but he thought about what she had just said. He had heard the exact same words before from his sister, mother, and the doctor they had sent to see him after the accident. They had meant it as a question, a plea for information. Jenni had made it a simple statement of fact.
"No, I don't." He kept his answer short, daring her to try and push him so he would have an excuse to end this uncomfortable conversation.
"Are you having dessert?" She changed the course of the conversation so fast he felt wrong-footed.
His knife clattered down onto his plate. "I think I've lost my appetite." He knew he shouldn't take his pain out on Jenni, but the mention of Cerys' name always triggered the overpowering sense of anger he kept buried deep within. Sometimes it felt so strong it scared him. Guilt swirled in his conscience that just lately, it was Jenni who'd occupied his thoughts. The idea fuelled his irritation.
"I'm not hungry either. Perhaps we should leave." She placed her cutlery down with careful deliberation.
He summoned the waiter over and dealt with the bill. Once Jenni collected her jacket and they were outside in the cold wintry air, his temper cooled as swiftly as the weather. With his emotions back under control, he apologized.
She surveyed him with a frosty expression on her face. "I shouldn't have asked. It's none of my business." Her eyes locked with his. For the space of a heartbeat, he thought she might stretch up to kiss him. The need for her understanding gnawed at him like a physical pain. Could he tell her the truth about the accident?
"I'd better go home. I've a lot of planning to do if we're going to win the contract tomorrow," Jenni said.
He unlocked the car, opened the door and waited while she climbed in. As she pulled it shut behind her, he felt sure he saw her hands tremble.
* * * *
Just one small comment about Cerys had opened up a whole can of worms. "I was in love once." Nate's words resonated in Jenni's head. They had sounded so bleak and desolate.
For a split second she glimpsed the hurt and anger in his eyes. His torment made her see what lay in her own heart, so long unacknowledged. She loved Nate.
She'd fallen in love with a man who would never love her back. A man who still grieved for the woman he'd lost two years ago. Yet, he cared about her. She knew he did. Last night he had even perhaps been attracted to her. Sadness washed over her like an unwelcome shower. It would be better to forget about last night. After all, hadn't they both agreed it had been a mistake not to be repeated?
It took her a few moments to register that the scenery outside was not on the route back to her flat. "Where are we going?"
"Back to my house. Some of the papers you'll need are there. It'll be better if you have them now, rather than tomorrow." He glanced at her. "And I need to let Rufus out for a little while. Rose doesn't work Sundays."
Jenni swallowed hard and nervously moistened the dry skin of her lips. "You could have ask
ed me first."
Her nerve endings tingled as she caught the look on his face.
"You seemed preoccupied," he said. "And just lately I appear to have developed a severe case of foot in mouth."
She flushed. "Well, if you weren't so darn touchy..."
"I'm touchy!" He snorted with what sounded like derision.
"Yes. You. Some days it's like tiptoeing through a minefield." She paused, horror-stricken at the words which had popped out of her mouth. Oh boy, where was her tact and diplomacy when she needed it?
"This has to do with Walker, hasn't it?" He braked sharply as the traffic in front of him slowed without any warning. Jenni jerked forward so that the seatbelt pulled back hard against her ribs.
"You're still mad at me about the Christmas party."
Jenny looked at him, bewildered. "No, Nate. This has to do with you." She folded her arms in defiance. "You need a break. When the contract is sorted out, you need to take a few days holiday." She waited for the explosion.
To her surprise, he laughed. "I couldn't agree more. That's exactly what I intend to do. But I must say it seems rich coming from you, Jen. When did you last get away?"
Her hands curled of their own accord into tight little fists. The nails cut into the soft skin of her palms. Nate really could be the most infuriating man on the planet. "I intend to have some time off soon."
He lifted an eyebrow in disbelief. "Really?" he drawled, "and to which exotic hotspot were you planning to go?"
"I have a lot of things to do at home. For your information, my life doesn't revolve around work."
He swung the car in through the gates to his house and cut the engine. He swore under his breath and turned in his seat to face her. Jenni faced him square on, even though her heart raced at his black expression.
"Meaning that mine does, I suppose," he retorted. "The company doesn't run itself, Jenni."
"I never said it did, Nate, but that doesn't give you the right to make it an excuse for avoiding life, avoiding love."
The colour leached from his face as her words struck home. She would have given anything to take them back. An oppressive silence hung in the air. His jaw-line tightened and he stormed out of the car. The door slammed shut behind him with a bang which made her flinch.
Nate had already opened the front door of the house. As she scrambled out of the car, she wondered wildly if he would close the door behind him and leave her locked out.
"Nate." She called his name, desperate to take back the words which had hurt him so much. To explain what she'd meant. Rufus bounced out of the house, his tail beating with happiness at the sight of company. Tentatively, she followed the dog as he turned around and headed back through the front door. Rufus pushed ahead of her and pattered towards the kitchen door which stood wide open.
Nate stood in the kitchen in front of the window, his back towards her. His wide shoulders appeared rigid. He was as still as a statue.
"Nate?"
He half-turned to glance at her as if he had forgotten her existence. He strode to the back door and flung it open. Rufus capered outside into the garden. Nate followed him. Jenni was alone in the kitchen.
Jenni folded her arms to hug herself against the bitter cold coming from the open door. Once Nate was no longer in view she stepped across to close it.
* * * *
Nate paused in a small grove of trees. The icy air filled his lungs and brought him to a halt. Rufus moped about from tree to tree. The dog stopped from time to time to give Nate a "what are you doing here?" look as he sniffed at the different scents in the straggly grass. Nate raked his hand through his hair.
"What am I doing here?" he murmured.
Rufus cocked his head to one side as if waiting for an explanation. Nate sighed. Jenni had a knack for getting under his skin. He had prided himself on how well he'd coped with the aftermath of the accident. He'd refused all the well-intended offers of help and dealt with the pain on his own.
Except he hadn't dealt with it, according to Jenni. He'd avoided it, the same accusation Nathalie had levelled at him. He closed his eyes to try to blot out the memories which threatened to surface and engulf him.
He paced up and down along the path. He had to tell Jenni about Cerys. He knew that now. He just had to choose the right moment to make her see why he couldn't fall in love again. Why he couldn't hope for any woman to love him.
He regained his composure and glanced back towards the house. Jenni no longer stood at the window. Maybe she had called a taxi to go home. Nate couldn't blame her if she had. Rufus answered his whistle, and together they headed back up the path towards the house.
He pushed the kitchen door open to find the room empty. For a split second, it looked as if she'd gone and his stomach contracted in pain at the idea. Then he smelt the delicious aroma of fresh coffee and heard the gentle burbling of his state-of-the-art percolator.
Rufus padded in to settle himself in his dog basket with a mournful look at Nate as if to question his sanity. Jenni came in through the door which led to the hall. She looked uncertain. Without her glasses to hide behind, she appeared more vulnerable than he had ever seen her. A snatch of guilt tugged at his conscience. It had happened again. Once more he'd hurt someone he cared about.
"I made some coffee. I thought you might be cold." She watched him warily, poised in the doorway as if she thought he might order her to leave.
"Thanks, I could use a drink."
He studied her as she took two mugs from the shelf to pour the drinks.
This new Jenni confused him. The old Jenni would have been halfway home in a taxi by now. That Jenni wouldn't have still been here in his kitchen calmly making coffee. In the space of a few days, she had changed so much from the woman he had worked with every day for the last eighteen months. Had he ever really known Jenni? These new-found feelings he had towards her scared him more than he had ever thought possible. Yet how would she react if she knew he had been responsible for Cerys' death?
She passed him a mug of coffee. "Nate, I should have chosen my words more carefully. I know you find it hard to talk about Cerys and," she paused, "well, you're my friend. I care about you."
Pain welled up inside him and his grip tightened on the handle of his own mug. She saw him as a friend. Why should that hurt so much?
"Forget it, Jenni. It's not a subject I want to discuss." His voice sounded harsh even to his own ears. He couldn't fail to see her pained expression at his abruptness. "I know you meant well, though." He added the last part in a softer tone, as he struggled to keep control of his emotions.
"Well, if you want to run through the other documents with me, then I'll go home and let you finish off your work." Her voice sounded stiffly businesslike.
He raked his hand through his hair and finished up by rubbing at the sore muscles at the back of his neck. Soon. He would have to tell her soon.
"Come through to the office. I'll get the papers." He kept his voice curt as he walked out past her to lead the way to his study.
* * * *
Nate pulled up outside Jenni's flat. His eyes narrowed when he noticed the group of teenage boys hanging around the shops near her front door.
"I'll walk you in." His mouth set in a determined line.
"It's all right, they're always hanging about." It was quite true. A group of kids always hung about either outside the takeaway or the off license. They left litter and daubed graffiti on her front door. In the summer, when she had her windows open, she could hear them swearing and could smell the smoke from their cigarettes.
"I'm seeing you safely inside. Don't the police ever come and move them on?" he queried.
"All the time, but they keep drifting back."
She clicked on the stairwell light after she opened the door. Nate bent down to retrieve a folded scrap of lined paper from the vestibule floor.
"Someone's left you a note, Jenni." He handed the piece of paper over. Puzzled, she glanced at the writing on the front. It just had h
er name—no address, so someone must have called by and pushed it through the letterbox by hand.
"You should read it upstairs." Nate suggested with a glance at the audience of teenagers outside the door.
Jenni led the way up to her flat. A cold ominous sensation settled over her.
She dropped her bag onto the floor then sank down on the settee to unfold the note. Nate stood near her as she scanned the ill-written missive.
"It's from Tracey, my birth mother." The message seemed confused, almost as if her mother had been in trouble of some kind and had written the note in a hurry.
"I didn't think she had your address?" Nate sounded puzzled, a frown creased his brow.
"She doesn't. At least I've never given it to her. I took your advice about taking it slowly in getting to know her. I didn't put any of my details on the letter I sent to her." Jenni felt baffled.
"So what does she want?" The harsh tone in Nate's voice made her look at him in some surprise.
"Why would she want anything?" Jenni asked. "This just says her personal situation is difficult at the moment. She still wants to meet me, but needs to wait a little while until things settle down at home." She passed the note over. Nate studied it for a few minutes without speaking.
"How did she find out where you live? This whole thing doesn't add up, Jen."
In her heart, she knew he had a point. Jenni hadn't given her mother her home address. Her adoptive father had always emphasized Tracey's bad character. It might have caused Jenni problems if Tracey had turned up at the flat and they had nothing in common.
"Why do you live here, Jenni?" The question she dreaded hung in the air.
She tried to find an explanation which didn't lay her open to humiliation and pity.
"I moved here when Mum was ill, to be near the nursing home." She pleated between her fingers the knitted throw which covered the tatty seat.