by Nella Tyler
I began to relax, bit by bit, as the lunch meeting wore on. Ethan obviously overthought things, like more than one of my other clients. Even when he began to open up a bit and wind down, he seemed to think about and discard at least three different things before opening his mouth to say something. In spite of the promise I’d made to myself more than once to never compare one client to another while I was in session, I found myself thinking about Zeke. Zeke wasn’t perfect when we started—and he still isn’t—but he at least had some natural charm, even if he was kind of oblivious and over-confident… I stopped that line of thought. Ethan’s issues with dating were totally different from Zeke’s problems. Ethan was a different person completely.
I had to make myself focus. I took a quick breath and a sip from my glass of water. “What are some date ideas that you can see yourself enjoying? Obviously, we want to create situations where you can shine, and go from there,” I told Ethan. He shrugged.
“I guess…I like going to poetry readings,” he said tentatively. “But everyone I know outside of the readings thinks they’re boring.”
“The idea would be for us to connect you with someone who shares your interests—so if you like poetry readings, we’ll work on finding you a woman who also does,” I explained. “What else sounds good?”
“I don’t want you to be bored, or think that going somewhere with me is annoying,” he told me. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes, or to sigh. Ethan would need careful handling, especially since I was fairly certain that he’d had to deal with being laughed at pretty frequently by women he had been interested in before. It was easy to figure out why he’d gone about using the matchmaking service: he wanted an easy way to find someone to be with, without risking rejection.
“I have a lot of interests, Ethan,” I said simply. “I really doubt that I’m going to be bored or think that something you want to do is annoying.” But the habit of constantly excusing yourself and making disclaimers might do that, I thought grimly. I would have to help him break himself of the constant almost-apologies he made; no matter how patient, no woman he dated would be able to handle that tendency for very long, even if she herself did it.
“We could go to the science museum,” he suggested.
“That sounds great!” I caught sight of movement in the corner of my vision but ignored it. The restaurant was starting to get busier. I reminded myself to pay attention to Ethan, to block everything else out. “How do you feel about art museums?”
“I like them,” he said, making the reply almost a question.
“We could also try one of those studios that lets you paint your own crafts, or somewhere that lets you work with clay,” I pointed out. “That would be something that isn’t too socially demanding, but where you can enjoy yourself.”
“Maybe we could go to the planetarium?” I considered that; I wouldn’t have really thought about it as a potential date, but Ethan obviously leaned towards academic interests, so it would be a decent thing for him to do to spend time with someone he wanted to be with, and a good litmus test for a woman he would date.
“Absolutely,” I said. I heard something and in spite of having told myself to pay attention to Ethan to the exclusion of everything else going on around me, I turned my head.
Someone was advancing towards the table I sat at, dressed in jeans and a tee shirt, practically running through the dining room. One of the waiters tried to intercept the man, but got shoved into another table for his troubles. I looked up at the face of the person coming at me and immediately recognized Nathan. “Shit.”
“What? What’s wrong?” Ethan turned to look over his shoulder and blanched. “Who’s that?”
“It’s an asshole ex-client,” I told Ethan quickly. “Do me a favor and call the police, okay?”
“I—I—okay,” Ethan said, reaching into his pocket for his cell phone. I stood up from the table, throwing my napkin down and stepping away from my seat.
“You bitch!” I put my arms up in front of me slightly, remembering some of the self-defense lessons I’d taken in the weeks since I’d had my first altercation with Nathan during our first meeting. “I just got lawsuit papers from your agency! You drop that fucking suit or I swear…”
Nathan closed the distance between us, lunging at me, and I heard Ethan saying something on his phone. “Nathan, if you don’t want to make everything worse for yourself, I’d recommend you leave right the fuck now,” I said, sidestepping his grab for me.
“I’m not leaving until I hear you say you’re going to make that dumb bitch boss of yours drop the suit!” Nathan’s hand grabbed at my wrist, and I clenched my teeth as he squeezed. Remember what the trainer said: use his own momentum against him. Remember: SING. I struggled to keep out of the range of Nathan’s other hand, but to get in where I could hit at one of his vulnerable spots. I twisted around and brought the heel of my foot down on what I hoped was his instep—and Nathan shouted in pain, snatching at my hair with his other hand even as he brought his aching foot up. I let him grab my hair and moved in closer, pulling my elbow up to slam it into his solar plexus—at least, I hoped I could hit that particular bundle of nerves.
We struggled like that for what felt like an eternity, with Nathan trying to slam me onto the ground, trying to hurt me, and me scuffling and twisting to stay out of his ability to disable me, even while I tried to disable him. Someone other than Ethan must have called the cops at the same time—or they must have called when they first spotted Nathan storming into the restaurant—because I could hear sirens, cutting through the din of startled conversations all around me and the heavy breathing and curses that came from Nathan.
I managed to hit his nose hard enough to make him let go of me and kneed him in the groin, and Nathan went down, knocking me onto the floor with his heavier weight. I somehow managed to scramble free and lurch back into my chair as one of the waiters pinned Nathan where he was on the ground. “Sorry about that, Ma’am,” the waiter said, looking up at me with a rueful smile on his face. “He got past me too quick.”
“Thanks for helping, anyway,” I told him. I ached—my knee, my ankle, where I’d injured myself before, throbbed, and I was pretty sure that Nathan had managed to yank some of the hair out of my head in our struggle. The police came and I looked at Ethan, just moments away from shaking to pieces, and told them I’d answer their questions outside.
Just like before, I answered their questions and told them moment-by-moment what had happened and how it had gone down. The police apparently had cross-referenced Nathan’s ID with a database somewhere, so they knew that he had been involved in a previous altercation with me. “If you want to file for a protective order…” I shook my head.
“He doesn’t have the sense to stay away from me when he’s got criminal charges and a civil suit against him. I doubt he’d obey a restraining order,” I pointed out.
“You’re probably right,” the officer admitted. “But all the same, it’s good documentation to have. Consider requesting one—I’ll back you in court.”
“Thanks,” I said, feeling exhausted. “Is there anything else you need from me?”
“If you develop any bruises, take some pictures of them and send them to us,” the police officer told me. “We can add them to the file.” I told him I’d do just that and said goodbye to Ethan, who looked more shaken up even than I was—and I was plenty shaken.
I didn’t know what to do with myself. My hands felt numb and tingly at the same time, my heart was still pumping in my chest, and I wasn’t sure if my brain was up to the task of navigating the traffic. I couldn’t call my parents, all of my friends would be at work, and there was so much to do—even with the police up to speed on the situation—that for a moment after they left I just stood in front of the restaurant, bewildered.
Somehow, my phone was in my hand before I even knew what I was doing. I scrolled through my contact list until I fell on Zeke’s name. I hesitated for a fraction of an instant before tapping call,
and closed my eyes as I waited for my phone to connect, leaning against the exterior wall of the restaurant. The management had—predictably—comped the meal, and the police had said that they would call Katie for me. I wanted to go home, to rest, and to get over the intense adrenaline surging through my veins, but I didn’t trust myself to drive home just yet. The only person I could think of to talk to was Zeke.
“Natalie? What’s up?” My eyes stung and tingled, and I heard myself sob.
“I got attacked again,” I said. “Nathan—he came to where I was having my date with a new client.”
“Fuck—are you hurt? Are you okay?” His voice cracked with concern, and I found myself crying harder.
“I’m okay. I’m okay,” I confirmed. “The police have taken him back to county.” I smiled even through my tears. “I managed to get him on the ground and a waiter kept him pinned there.”
“Good job! Where are you now?”
“Still at the restaurant,” I said, laughing bitterly. “My hands… I’m shaking. I guess I’ll have to call a cab or something.”
“Stay put,” Zeke told me. “I’m going to come and drive you home, okay? I’ll get Trevor to ride with me so he can drive your car back to your place, and he’ll get a cab to the office.” I started to tell Zeke that it didn’t make any sense for his assistant to take a cab, but I couldn’t make myself say it. I was too scared, too exhausted, and only too willing to let him take control of the situation. “I’ll be there in ten minutes,” he told me before hanging up.
Chapter Thirty Six
Zeke
I glanced at Natalie in the passenger seat for probably the third or fourth time since she’d put her seat belt on. “You’re sure you’re okay? You don’t want to get checked out?” She shook her head.
“I just want to get home, and have a very large glass of wine and a bubble bath,” she said, giving me a weak smile.
“Is Brady with a babysitter?” She shook her head again.
“He’s at his grandparents’ house,” she told me. She took a deep breath and sighed, looking out through the window.
“How did he find you?” That was the question that really plagued me. How had an abusive asshole like Nathan managed to find Natalie on a date?
“That is something that Katie is going to try and find out,” she said, shrugging. “I would really like to know, myself.” She chuckled, sounding almost bitter.
“This the first time something like that has happened to you?”
Natalie nodded. “First time,” she confirmed. “The attack was a first, too.” She closed her eyes for a moment and then turned to look at me.
“That’s got to shake you up,” I said. “How are you handling it?” She shrugged.
“I’m sure probably 99% of the guys I get set up with for coaching would never do anything like what Nathan did,” she told me. “But this…and another situation that’s come up recently…” she shrugged again. “I’m starting to think that I may need to get out of the business. Move onto something else.”
“Move on?” I stopped at a light and looked at her. “What would you do?”
“No idea,” she said, grinning wryly. “Hopefully I can find something in the psych field, but I haven’t really been looking seriously. Just sort of thinking.”
“You’re not going to cancel on me, are you? I don’t know if I’d work as well with a different coach,” I said jokingly. My heart was beating faster in my chest at the thought of losing her presence in my life all at once. I didn’t want to admit it to myself, but I knew I’d be hurt if she just disappeared on me. She laughed—and it sounded a little better than the bitter, fearful laugh she’d let out before.
“No, I’d wait until all of my current contracts are done before I moved on,” she said. “It would only be fair.” My heart slowed down in my chest and I took a quick, deep breath. You shouldn’t be this relieved, I thought. You know it’s not going anywhere with her—it’s not meant to.
“That’s good to hear,” I told her. “I think we’re almost at your place.”
“Looks like it,” she agreed. She looked at me. “Would you miss me if I left coaching?”
“Of course,” I said. “I’m going to miss you when you’re done coaching me—I’d obviously miss you if you left early.” She smiled slightly and I wondered what was on her mind—but I didn’t want to upset her more.
I parked outside of her apartment building and hesitated. “If you want to be alone…”
“No,” Natalie said. She looked at me and I could see the fear in her eyes. “I really—I know I shouldn’t invite you in, but you’ve already been inside my place before, so it’s not like I’m crossing a boundary with you for the first time…” She swallowed. “I’m still kind of shaken up I guess. I think if I was alone, I’d just end up crying or something.”
“I’ll come in, then,” I told her. “As long as you want me there—and as soon as you tell me to leave, I will.”
We went up to her unit and I made a beeline for the kitchen; Natalie had said she wanted a glass of wine and a bath—and while I was pretty sure she wouldn’t want to take a bath while I was hanging out, I figured a glass of wine would probably go down easily. “You remember where everything is,” she said, almost questioning.
“Pretty straightforward,” I pointed out. I got a corkscrew out of the drawer and got to work opening the bottle of wine I found in the cabinet. “Go sit down in the living room, put something on TV.”
“Ordering me around in my own house,” she said wryly. “So like a man.” She left the kitchen and I got the wine open, and poured a glass for myself while I was at it. By the time I walked into the living room, she had put something on—a movie or something, I wasn’t paying attention.
“Here,” I said, handing her the fuller glass. “Drink up.” Natalie snorted and took a long sip of the red wine, closing her eyes and breathing deep while she did it.
“Okay, yeah, that’s a little better,” she admitted, looking at me with a slightly sheepish smile. “I feel like such a wimp right now.”
“You managed to get that asshole on the ground—not a wimpy thing to do,” I pointed out. “You stood up for yourself and held your own.”
“Only because I knew that Ethan—that’s the new client I was with when Nathan attacked—was going to be completely useless.” She shook her head and drank another sip of wine. “And, I had warning this time.”
“Stop trying to make what you did sound like less than it is,” I told her. “There are tons of people who wouldn’t have been able to stand up for themselves, even if they’d had warning and knew the person they were with would be a wet noodle.”
“Hopefully that’s the last time I see him outside of a court room,” she said.
“Cheers to that,” I agreed, raising my glass.
Natalie seemed to wind down bit by bit as we sat talking about nothing at all, and I was glad that she had thought about me. “Why did you call me of all people?” She looked at me sharply for a second after I asked the question and then shrugged.
“You were the first person I thought of,” she admitted. “I guess maybe because you’d been there when the first attack happened, I figured you’d understand what I was going through.”
“Even if I hadn’t been there,” I told her, “I would have been happy to pick you up and drive you home.” My phone vibrated in my pocket and I held up my hand to ask Natalie to give me a moment; it was Trevor. Back at the office. “Trevor has made it back safely,” I told her.
“You really didn’t have to do that—have him bring my car here,” she said, shaking her head.
“Why have a personal assistant if I don’t occasionally make him do random non-office-related things?” I put my phone away again and grinned. “Besides, it’s not like it’s a bother to him—he got to leave the building for a little while, and he’s charging the ride to the corporate account.”
“Can you even do that?”
I shrugged. “If not, acc
ounting will send the bill to me, and that’ll be that. It’s not like it was an expensive ride.” Natalie finished off the wine in her glass and before she could say anything else, I took it from her and went back into the kitchen.
I brought the bottle back with me and filled her glass. “I don’t remember if I thanked you before,” Natalie said, accepting her refill from my hands. “But in case I didn’t: thank you.” I laughed.
“I’m pretty sure you’ve thanked me at least three times already,” I said. I took a sip of my own wine and set the glass down. “So you’re really thinking about changing careers?” She shrugged.
“I haven’t decided,” she admitted. “But between getting frustrated with some of my clients, and what just happened, and all of it…” she sighed. “It just seems like I’m spending a lot of energy on something that isn’t benefitting me as much as it used to.”
“You got into this to meet people, right?”
She nodded. “After my divorce, it seemed like a good way to sort of…ease myself back into interacting with guys, you know?”
“That makes sense,” I agreed.
“Of course, I realized that I couldn’t date anyone I was coaching, not really, but I figured that I wasn’t really ready to date someone for real anyhow, and that it would be good practice for me.”
“How long were you married?” Natalie’s lips twisted upward in a wry smile.
“Couple of years,” she said. “At first, it was great. And then, when I got pregnant, it was okay. And it went downhill from the time that Brady was born. Apparently, Alex wasn’t all that ready to have a kid. Not really, anyway; not in the way that makes a relationship last through that kind of stress.” She sighed.