As soon as I got to my office, I did a quick search for that interview with the ten minutes I had to spare before my first evaluation of the day came in. It wasn’t hard to find after I typed in his name. I clicked on the link and there he appeared in all his tuxedo glory. Flashbacks of the kisses he’d planted on my cheek played along with the interview he’d done with Action News. I was surprised the interviewer was male. At least he wasn’t drooling all over him.
The first part of the interview was all about his work with the charity. Nick reiterated a lot of what he had said on stage that night. If all I knew about him was watching the few minutes of him talking passionately about helping those families who had lost so much, I believe I would find myself . . . what? He was still a client, first and foremost, like Kenadie said. Besides, I knew him to be arrogant and ill mannered. So he was trying to be more polite. And he cleaned the kitchen. Stop it, Kate.
I focused on the screen.
The reporter chuckled. “Nick, we hear you are using the Atlanta-grown dating service Binary Search.” The familiarity he used with him was weird to me. I bet they didn’t know each other. “Is that true? And what value is there in it for a guy like you?”
That was a pompous question. Who did this guy think he was? This was the twenty-first century. People used dating apps and services all the time. Sure, some were questionable and made only for hooking up, but many places like ours truly wanted to help people.
Nick’s darkened eyes said he found no humor or appreciation for the question. “Darius,” his tone was patronizing.
Go Nick, I thought before I could stop myself.
“Who doesn’t need help navigating the relationship waters nowadays? And Binary Search is unique, as you are given your own relationship manager to help guide you through the process.”
Darius did his best to not look taken aback, but his shoulders twitched. “A relationship manager? What exactly do they do?”
“In my case,” Nick gave his most debonair smile, “she’s given me a new perspective. One might even say, the inside track about how women think.”
“Where can I sign up?” Darius teased.
“Anyone looking for some relationship help should check them out online,” Nick gave us a nice plug.
“Tell us who you’re dating, then.”
“I don’t kiss and tell.” Nick’s tight jawline said don’t press for information.
That was pretty much it. I wasn’t sure what to think about it. I felt like what he’d said about me wasn’t all that truthful. I couldn’t imagine what he meant by new perspective. And the only insight I’d given him about how women thought was how I thought about him, which wasn’t all that flattering. I was at least grateful he painted Binary Search in a good light, especially considering I’d left him at the gala. Maybe he hadn’t realized that when he’d done the interview.
I didn’t get the chance to mull it over; my ten o’clock was a few minutes early. She walked in wearing an On the Edge T-shirt with Nick’s face plastered front and center on it. I knew then it was going to be a very, very long day.
Chapter Eighteen
There wasn’t enough peppermint oil in the world to address the pounding going on in my head. If I had to hear Nick’s name one more time today I was going to . . . well, it probably involved eating cheesecake for dinner, except I had to head to the clinic as soon as I was done here. I felt like I’d already been treating mental disorders all day. It was called Nickitis. It was a contagion and everyone had it. Perhaps I should warn the CDC.
My phone rang. I was definitely eating cheesecake for dinner, with a side of hot fudge. Why was he calling me?
“Hello,” I growled.
“Hello, Kate.”
Now he chose to get some manners?
“Can I help you?”
“By the tone of your voice, it sounds like that might be a painful option for me.”
He had no idea. And I had no idea why that made me laugh.
“That’s better,” his silky voice crooned.
“I’m sorry I snapped at you. I’ve been dealing with your sycophants all day.”
“I’m all ears.”
“You know I can’t discuss clients, but I did meet a woman today who, from memory, could recite the name of every episode of On the Edge, including the special holiday episode you did after the show ended. Not only that, she photoshopped a picture of how your future children together would look. They were beautiful by the way, so mazel tov.”
He may have chuckled. Maybe. “Please tell me you’re not setting me up with her.”
“Well . . .” I paused. “I thought about it until she showed me her tattoo of you. On her butt. Then I got a little frightened and ill. Needless to say, she’s no longer a client.”
Too bad peppermint oil couldn’t burn that image out of my head.
“What can I say? I’m adored.”
And egotistical. I kept that to myself since I was at work. “Is that the kind of attention you like or want?” I asked, because his profile told the story of a man who would, but my interactions with him said something entirely different.
He thought for a moment. It wasn’t a hard question. Or so I thought.
“It’s the price of fame. Something I’ve come to terms with.”
“So you want someone who worships you?” Figures.
“You make that sound as if it’s a terrible thing. Don’t you want to be with someone who’s devoted and adores you?”
I sat back in my chair, once again caught off guard by him. “I imagine most people would.”
“I didn’t ask about most people.”
“Yes,” I whispered. “But hero-worshipping your partner is not healthy.”
“Thank you for that insight, Dr. Morgan.”
“Now you’re mocking me.”
“That’s not how I operate.”
“Duly noted. Is there a reason for your call?”
“Other than the fact I enjoy talking to you?”
“Yes,” I breathed out like one of his fan club members.
“I wanted to know why you didn’t call me.”
What? I shook my head. “Why would I call you?”
“That hurts, Kate. I thought we were friends.”
“I don’t remember us agreeing on that title.”
“Let’s agree on it now,” he fired back.
“That’s not how friendship works,” I countered.
“I suppose you have rules for that too.”
“Not necessarily,” I stammered.
“Then we should have no issues.”
I closed my eyes and rubbed my neck. Was someone playing a prank on me? Why did Nick Wells want to be my friend? Or should I ask, was he capable of friendship? Narcissists were not.
“Do we have a deal?” he interrupted my internal struggle of trying to figure out who or what he was.
“You don’t broker friendship.”
“What would you have us do?”
Was he for real? “Do you want a list?” I was so confused.
“Sure.”
“Well . . . to become friends with someone, you should spend time together, share interests, and have mutual respect for each other.”
“Done. Have dinner with Skye and me tonight.”
He had to quit lobbing those kinds of things out there. My heart skipped a few beats. “Uh . . . first of all, Alex Trebeck, you didn’t ask in the form of a question.” It had sounded like a demand. “And second, I sent Chanel’s information to you in your client portal. She signed your NDA, so you should probably take her out. By the way, she’s . . . how did she put it? Over-the-moon excited. A dream come true for her.” I’d done my best not to roll my eyes when she had come in jumping up and down.
I swore I could see him stretching his neck in the silence. He let out a heavy breath. “Will you please join Skye and me for dinner tonight?”
“Can’t.”
“I asked nicely.” He didn’t hide how grating that was for him
very well.
“Yes, you did. I’ll put another star in your chart,” I teased. “But I’m volunteering tonight at the clinic.”
“Right, you mentioned that to my dad.”
“You were paying attention that night?”
“More than you know.”
Why did everything he say sound like he was delivering a line in a romance movie where I was the unsuspecting female love interest? Obviously it was his job to write those one-liners, and he used to say them with such perfection in On the Edge.
I swallowed down the reigniting crush I used to have on him. “Okay, well, let me know if you didn’t get Chanel’s info—”
“I received it. That was part of the reason I was calling.”
“Oh. I’m confused.”
“I would prefer in the future if you called me regarding anything Binary Search related.”
“Why?”
“As stated before, I like talking to you, and doesn’t Binary Search tout individual attention from their relationship mangers?”
“Yes . . . but—”
“Do you have a problem calling me?”
Yes. A huge one. “I suppose not, but it’s not the way we usually do things here.”
“I’m not your usual client, now am I?”
“Well, you’re certainly more demanding than most.”
“Ah,” he said with an air of amusement. “Did you expect anything less from me?”
“I think you know the answer to that.”
“Yes, but hearing your distaste for me is so refreshing.”
I really should have more for him, but there was a part of me that really had anything but distaste for him, which was distasteful. “And you still want to be my friend?”
“More than you know.”
He hung up. No goodbye. No I’m sorry for unhinging your life.
I was about to bang my head on the desk, but a text from Meg saved me.
My baby.
An ultrasound picture came through.
Looks like a peanut, she added.
I remember thinking the same thing when I had my first ultrasound done at eight weeks.
This is so sweet. How are you feeling? How is Zander doing?
The nausea comes and goes for both of us, I think. He can’t stop staring at the picture. He says it looks like a boy.
I laughed to myself in my office. Why do all men think that? I think it would serve him right to have a girl.
Oh my gosh. That’s what I told him. I think that scares him more than anything.
I could imagine. The reformed womanizer having a daughter would be poetic justice. We should do lunch this week if you’re up to it.
I would love to. You can fill me in on Nicholas Wells. Zander only says he’s more trouble than he’s worth.
I partially agreed with that statement. He was a pain, but he was good for the bottom line, I would say.
Just let me know a good day for you.
And I would do my best to steer the conversation away from the man who was making me question who I thought I was, or who I thought I had grown to be. I couldn’t be the woman who fell for the Douglasses of the world. But was Nick a Douglas?
Chapter Nineteen
“You need to challenge your defense mechanisms and turn off that critical inner voice that says you are unworthy to be loved.”
How many times did I have to tell myself that after Douglas destroyed my heart?
John sighed and slouched in the chair across from me in the tiny office I used at the clinic. “I want to, but staying home and playing online is safer.”
“But is it fulfilling?” And what do you really want to be doing? Of course I didn’t want to be at home. I mean, I’m sure John didn’t.
He gave me a furtive smile. “No.”
“What is it that you are really afraid of?” Yes, Kate, what are you really afraid of? Be quiet, Kate, this isn’t your session.
He ran his hands through his thinning blonde hair. “When I was with my wife, I always knew I loved her more than she loved me. I knew I never lived up to her expectations. I mean, I’m still a fast food manager.”
“Do you like your job?”
He puffed his chest, whether on purpose or involuntarily I couldn’t tell. “Yeah, I do. And I’m good at it. We’re always one of the top stores in the region.”
“That’s great. So why do you talk down about it?”
He thought for a second. “I shouldn’t.” He sat up straighter. “I’m proud of the job I do.”
I gave him a warm smile. “Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise, not even yourself. If your thoughts start to wander in that direction, I want you to list five things you’re good at and five reasons you love your job. You need to retrain your thought patterns.”
He nodded like he could do that.
“And as far as being afraid of being in an uneven relationship, that is a natural worry. Love is a fickle creature and our feelings for someone we are in a relationship with can change from moment to moment. But you will never be in a healthy or even satisfying relationship if you hold your own feelings back for fear they won’t be reciprocated. You need to allow your natural feelings room to grow.” Yes, Kate, you stifle them at every turn. Kate, we can talk about our self later. “So embrace your feelings, the good, the bad, even the sad ones. They lead to a fuller life.”
I lead a full life. I have a great job, I volunteer, I do DIY home projects, I’m well read, I travel some. So, there isn’t anyone to share it with. Focus back on the patient, Kate.
His eyes said he wholeheartedly agreed, but his mouth said, “I don’t know if I can take the rejection again.”
I felt for him and knew exactly how he felt. Part of me wanted to tell him to stay home and play those online games, or maybe he could just be a little more well-rounded. We each had our safe things to cling to. “Are you happy right now?”
Are you happy, Kate?
John took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. “That’s why I’m here.”
“What do you really want?”
Yes, Kate, what do you really want? I want you to be quiet right now. I need to focus on John.
“I want the kind of relationship my parents have. They’ve been married for forty years and are as in love as they ever were.”
I wished I could say the same about my parents right now. Mom had called me earlier to tell me that Dad was threatening to “update” their bathroom, and if he even touched the faucet she was coming to stay with me.
“Why don’t you write down some of the qualities you are seeking, as well as the ones your ex-wife had that you would like to avoid in a future partner. Sometimes we can fall into a pattern of the kind of person we date. You may need to be more cognizant when you begin dating again. But avoid making hard-and-fast rules about relationships—that can cause its share of problems too.”
Did I just say that? Crap. That’s what I was trained to say. So what if it is true for everyone else but me? Is it getting warm in this room?
“That’s good advice, Dr. Morgan.”
Yes, it is. I mean, for most people. I bet he wasn’t married to a narcissistic bigamist.
“Your homework for the next two weeks is to make your lists and do something social, like attend a party or invite someone to dinner, even if it’s a friend. Take it a step at a time.”
A step at a time. What was my next step?
~*~
My next step might be new employment after I read Kenadie’s email first thing Tuesday morning.
To my favorite employees,
She was getting way too chipper.
I have some exciting news. The director of our new commercial featuring Nick would like to film some shots here. I didn’t want to disrupt our day, so they’ll be coming after hours. I know most of you will have client dates set up, but if you’re free, you are welcome to stay if you would like.
These are great times for Binary Search.
Keep up the good work!
; Kenadie
I had no intention of staying. It was no surprise that most of the evaluations I had today were with women—my Nick quota would be full by the end of the day. We were going to have to start running some half-price deal for men soon to balance it out.
My biggest hope for the day was that everyone kept their clothes on. If one more person showed me their tattooed butt, I was out of there. I didn’t care how good the benefits were or how much I valued what we did here. Nothing was worth that.
The first client of the day walked in and I had high hopes when she was dressed in a business suit with no visible Nick tattoos. She behaved quite demure with the way she sat herself and crossed her legs, making sure to hold her shoulders back and keep her posture straight. My chiropractor dad would have given her good marks.
“Welcome, Lyndsey. I’m Kate.”
“Hello.” She had a sultry alto voice.
I’d already gone over her questionnaire, but I always reiterated some of the questions up-front to gauge how truthful they had been on it before I got into the heavier questions.
“To begin, I have a series of questions for you. There are no right or wrong answers. Just be honest with yourself.”
She nodded.
“Your questionnaire stated that you are looking for a long-term commitment. Is that still true?”
Her eyes sparkled. “Definitely.”
“What qualities are you looking for in a partner?” I always asked this because everyone wanted to sound good on paper and they always put what they thought were the “right” answers, like loyal, kind, good sense of humor, etc. But I found when asked directly without time to think, I got a clearer picture of their expectations.
She sat up even more. “Good looking, for sure. I love a man with brown hair and blue eyes.”
Oh, no. Please tell me she wasn’t a . . .
“And he has to be successful. Really successful.”
I tried to keep from grimacing. Honestly, most people who used our service were successful professionals due to the fee we charged. We weren’t a run-of-the-mill matchmaking service, but this was over the top.
“I wouldn’t even mind if he was . . . famous.”
Great. Another sycophant. Little did she know by saying she wanted a long-term commitment she was totally out of the running.
Narcissistic Tendencies (Dating by Design Book 3) Page 14