“Yeah, but you don’t have the extra baggage of knowing exactly what it’s like to bang her. Every time I see her all I can think about is that night in New York. And then I have to feel guilty all over again. Thus the daily hell.”
Jared finished his beer and set the bottle on the ground. “Stupid question here but – you haven’t told Cameron about this, I assume?”
Nathan’s jaw dropped. “Do I look like a guy who wants to walk around without testicles? Of course not. Jesus, the first time she met Julia I thought I was going to puke or faint. Both. Fortunately, Julia’s been cool about it, not giving anything away. Even when Cam bitch slapped her.”
Jared stared. “Wait a sec. I think I need another beer for this one. I’ll sleep it off in time for the game tomorrow.” He reached into the cardboard six- pack they’d brought outside with them and popped the top on another bottle, taking a long swig. “Okay, now tell me about the cat fight. Damn, I can’t believe all of this has been going on and you never said a word. And here I thought your life was boring as hell.”
“I wish. And there wasn’t a cat fight. It was pretty much one-sided. We were all at a client dinner. Cam was having a hissy fit because Julia looked super hot, confronted her in the ladies room, accused her of sleeping with me, and walloped her. She’s lucky Julia didn’t press charges.”
“Holy fuck.” Jared took another drink. “Not that I don’t understand why Cameron might be jealous of your hot little lover, but to actually hit her?”
Nathan shrugged. “Cam was pretty tanked, not that getting drunk is an excuse. And Julia isn’t my lover, okay? It was that one night only.”
“Why’d you do it, Nate? I mean, weren’t you already engaged back in September, even unofficially?”
“I was. As for why – I ask myself that a lot. Part of it was I’d just had a fight with Cam on the phone and I was royally pissed off. And I’d probably put away about four glasses of Macallan by then so I wasn’t thinking with a totally clear head. But mostly,” he sighed, “I just fucking wanted her. Call me a selfish SOB – I have plenty of times – but I couldn’t stop thinking about her. It wasn’t just the pretty face and the wet dream body. When I looked at her there was just – something.”
Jared studied the label on his beer bottle. “So what happens now?”
“What do you mean?” asked Nathan warily. “Nothing. We go on like it never happened. Cameron and I are getting married next February. That part has never been in question.”
“What about Julia?”
“What about her? For all I know, she’s out fucking some new boyfriend right about now. She told me once when I was being a real prick to her that she could walk into any bar or restaurant and have a new guy in a matter of minutes. And she’s right. I’ve seen the way total strangers check her out just walking down the street. Most guys would kneel in front of her and kiss her feet in order to have coffee with her.”
“And you’re okay with that?”
Nathan grabbed another beer. “Fuck no. But I don’t really have a choice in the matter, do I? She isn’t mine, never was, and I don’t have any rights at all to her. Seeing her every day, feeling the urge to back her up against the wall and drill her till she can’t walk, but knowing I can’t even hold her hand – that’s my hell, Jare, my punishment for being a lying, cheating bastard.”
“You should tell Cameron it’s over. Obviously, it wasn’t meant to be with you two, not if you’ve fallen so hard for someone else.”
“No.” Nathan was adamant. “I am not going to be that guy, okay? It’s not Cam’s fault that I was weak, that I was a selfish prick. She and I have a good thing going, and will have a good marriage. So what if it isn’t fantasy stuff? I mean, once you get married all the romance fades away anyway, doesn’t it?”
“Not necessarily. It sure hasn’t for me and Brooke. And that’s a really shitty attitude, Nate. To enter into something like marriage with the thought that you’re just going to be good buddies with your wife? If you’re already feeling that way, you should just do both of you a favor and end it. How are you going to be happy – and make her happy – when you’re in love with someone else?”
“I’ll make it work,” Nathan insisted stubbornly. “Mind over matter, that sort of crap. That’s just the way it has to be. I’m not going to be the dickwad who breaks his engagement to the woman who’s done nothing to deserve that sort of treatment just because his cock twitches every time he sees some other woman. I really don’t think I could live with myself, provided I could ever have big enough balls to actually do it.”
Jared smirked. “Yeah, if Cameron slapped Julia just for looking too pretty, I can’t even imagine what she’d do to you for breaking the engagement. Didn’t you tell me once that her father insists she keep a loaded gun in her condo?” He glanced at his phone, noting the time. “Hell, I really do have to go now. Thanks for dinner and the brews. You’ve got the tickets for the game tomorrow night?”
Nathan nodded. “Club level passes, parking permits, the works. You know how to take care of your loved ones, bro.”
The brothers stood and exchanged a hug before walking through the living room to the front door.
“Hey, thanks for listening to me, Jare. You don’t know how hard it’s been to keep all that bottled up for so many months. I appreciate having you to lean on.”
Jared patted his older brother on the shoulder. “No problem, Nate. Call me anytime you need to talk. My lips are sealed. But you gotta answer one question I’ve been dying to ask since meeting Julia yesterday.”
Nathan eyed him warily. “What’s that?”
Jared grinned wickedly. “Her tits. Are they real?”
Nathan couldn’t help returning the grin. “Well, to quote one of our favorite Seinfeld lines of all time – ‘they’re real and they’re spectacular’.”
“That’s what I thought. Then you’re more of an idiot than I imagined to walk away from a rack like that. Maybe I should set her up with Brandon after all. He loves big tits.”
Nathan wrenched the door open and shoved Jared out. “Get lost. And forget about it. She doesn’t need to be fixed up, especially not with your slutty guy friends.”
“Sounds like sour grapes to me, Nate.”
Chapter Twelve
May
Angela perused the half dozen dresses carefully arranged on Julia’s bed, tapping one finger against her mouth. “You know what the problem is, Jules? You don’t have enough clothes. I think we should take a shopping trip to Neiman Marcus.”
Julia tossed a throw pillow at her friend. “You aren’t helping. I invited you over to help me pick out a dress. Well, and to try and feed you as well. But mostly for the dress.”
“I’m not hungry.” Angela took a sip of her red wine. “And don’t give me that look. It reminds me – not in a good way – of my mother. Not that any reminders of my mom are good ones.”
Julia pointed a finger at Angela. “One way or the other you are going to eat something before you leave here tonight. What have you eaten today – like, a Power Bar and a banana or something? After running, oh, fifteen miles or so?”
Angela shrugged. “Yes to the bar, no to the banana. And it was a twenty mile run, thank you very much. Stop trying to force me to eat, Jules. I’ll eat when I’m hungry, okay?”
Julia frowned as she studied the tall, graceful form of the woman she’d known since fourth grade. Angela DelCarlo had actually been more Lauren’s friend, but she’d been close to Julia as well. Angela had always been slender and willowy, but ever since a disastrous break-up two years ago, she’d lost so much weight that she looked waifish. She was at least twenty pounds lighter then she’d been in college, where she had played volleyball while at Stanford. Lauren thought Angela was scary-skinny, worried that she had an eating disorder, and vowed to do some real damage to the controlling prick who’d destroyed her during their tumultuous year together. Julia just wanted her to eat a sandwich once a day. Oh, and help her pick out a smashin
g dress for the Design Awards dinner next weekend.
“Okay, here’s what I’m narrowing it down to – these three. The Alexander McQueen blush corset dress, the Dolce and Gabbana black lace, and the Dina bar El blue satin halter. What do you think?” prodded Julia.
“Hmm.” Angela studied the three dresses carefully. It was hard to believe, given that Angela’s normal attire outside of the office these days consisted of workout gear or sweats, but the girl did have a good eye for fashion. Once upon a time she had been a stunning beauty with a figure most models would envy. Now she looked like a strong wind would blow her away, and hadn’t smiled for what seemed like forever.
“Not the McQueen. The color is too pale for you, and the style is a bit girlish in spite of the corset top.” Angela set that dress aside. “The bar El is gorgeous, amazing color on you, Jules. But the Dolce screams sex. If you curl your hair, do a smoky eye and red – no, burgundy lips – every guy in the room will want to fuck you if you wear that dress.”
Julia flushed. “I’m really not sure that’s my intent, honey. I just want to make sure I upstage that bitch Cameron.”
Angela smirked. “Well, you could wear your rattiest yoga pants and a baggy T-shirt and do that from what you’ve told me.”
“Impossible. I don’t have anything in my entire wardrobe you could call ratty. And I never wear baggy clothes. Now that we’ve got the dress, let’s pick the shoes.”
They studied the neatly arranged shelves of shoes, sorted by color, until Angela pointed to a particular pair. “These. Absolutely this pair.”
Julia grinned. “Also D & G. Good eye, Angie.” The sky-high black pumps were made of tulle and suede, with a peep toe, a sultry ankle strap, and a tantalizing little rosette detail on the forefoot.
Angela sighed. “I wish I wore a size six shoe. It’s hard to find cute ones in ten and a half. I have to special order my running shoes.”
“Yes, but I have to hem almost every single dress and skirt because I’m too short. So we all have our little fashion dilemmas. Now, since you’ve been so awesome in helping me pick out a killer outfit, let me feed you, okay?”
Angela rolled her eyes. “Are we still on that? Fine, tempt me with something really yummy and I might eat a few bites.”
Julia pumped her fist in triumph. “Honey, everything that comes out of my kitchen is yummy. Come on, let’s tempt those dormant taste buds of yours.”
Angela drank another glass of wine while Julia whipped up a tomato and cheese tart, salad nicoise, and crème Brule.
“So how did cocktails with that guy turn out the other night?”
Julia shrugged as she mixed up the salad dressing. ”About how I figured they would. Todd’s a nice enough guy – and very good looking – but he’s got player written all over him. Plus, his very favorite topic of conversation is Todd, more Todd, and, oh yes, still more Todd.”
“So he struck out then, huh?”
“I didn’t say that.” Julia smiled mischievously. “He’s taking me to the Design Awards dinner on Saturday.” At Angela’s look of disapproval, she defended herself by saying, “Hey, I needed a date. And he needed to be some real serious man candy.”
“Let me guess. So you can piss off Cameron.”
“No.” Julia shook her head. “She’ll probably be all too happy to see me with a good-looking guy, figuring I wouldn’t be interested in Nathan anymore. He’s the one I want to piss off.”
“Good for you, sweetie.” Angela toasted her. “Show that bastard you don’t give a crap about him any longer, that you’ve moved on.”
“That’s the general idea.”
During a drunken girls night-in about a month ago, Julia had tearfully confessed everything to Angela about what had happened in New York. It had been a comfort to finally have it all out in the open and be able to discuss the whole episode with someone. She had only told Lauren some sketchy details, and had sworn Angela up and down not to breathe another word to her sister, for Julia wouldn’t put it past her twin to actually confront Nathan and give him hell – or even a few bruises. Julia was quite certain that was why Angela had never told them the name of the guy who had wrecked her so badly.
During dinner, which Angela actually ate more than a few bites of, they talked mostly about work, Angela’s marathon training, and Julia’s yoga classes. The one thing they didn’t discuss – by silent mutual agreement – was their equally fucked up love lives. Angela hadn’t dated – hell, had barely left her flat, in fact, except for work and running – since her soul-wrenching breakup, and showed absolutely no interest in men at all, unless they were wealthy clients who wanted to buy a mutual fund or annuity. Julia was interested in men but didn’t trust her judgment these days, since her last two relationships had pretty much imploded.
“How do you shut it off?”
Angela glanced up in surprise from her crème Brule, which she had actually finished, at Julia’s sad, slightly drunk question. She knew exactly what her friend meant.
“The hurt? The betrayal? The heartache?” At Julia’s nod, she licked her spoon. “By shutting down everything. I just don’t feel anything anymore. It’s the only way I’ve been able to deal. It was either that or just be drunk all the time.”
While Julia was getting ready for bed later that evening, Angela’s pragmatic words came back to her, and she knew she didn’t want to live that way. Unlike her friend, Julia wanted to feel, to enjoy life, and to be in a happy relationship. That Angela had been severely damaged was both obvious and tragic, and Julia vowed she’d never let a man have that much power over her.
It was good, therefore, she told herself firmly as she tried to fall asleep, that she was bringing Todd as her date next weekend. The time had come for her to move on and forget about Nathan. Oh, he might desire her but he wasn’t going to act upon that fact. And he certainly wasn’t going to end his engagement for – what for him, at least – was obviously just a bad case of lust. It was well past the time that she wrote Nathan Atwood off as a closed chapter in her life and started living again. And next Saturday night was going to be the perfect launching off point.
Nathan let himself into Cameron’s condo while the driver waited outside. He’d warned the driver that they might be a few minutes, and had received a knowing chuckle in response, with the driver lamenting the fact that his wife was always at least half an hour late for everything.
It had been Cameron’s idea almost a year ago to exchange keys to each other’s place. He’d been a little reluctant at first to hand over a key to his condo, but had relented after she’d persisted. It wasn’t that he didn’t like her having the key, or minded her being in his condo if he wasn’t there. But he had always been something of a private person, liking his own space, and his two-bedroom condo wasn’t exactly spacious. For whatever reason, he always felt a little hemmed in when Cam stayed over, though that likely was due to the fact that she was a huge slob. Evidence of her untidiness was apparent around her condo as he walked into the expansive living/dining area.
There were newspapers, books and files piled haphazardly on the coffee, entry and dining tables. Shoes, handbags, and coats were strewn around without a care. He knew if he walked into the kitchen there would be dirty dishes piled in the sink, and half-empty coffee mugs and takeout containers littering the counters.
Nathan shuddered as he imagined the utter chaos of her bedroom and bathroom, with clothing, shoes and accessories flung every which way in the bedroom, and cosmetics, hair products, wet towels and dirty laundry in complete disarray in the bath.
Fortunately for Cameron, she had a cleaning lady who came in once a week, and Nathan only hoped the poor woman was paid a handsome salary because she would sure as hell earn it cleaning this place. He couldn’t stand living or working in such a mess, one of the reasons he didn’t especially enjoy having Cameron stay over at his place very often. She had long ago started keeping some clothing and toiletries at his condo, a few too many for his preference, while he kept a
bare minimum of stuff here at her place. Every time she stayed over at his home, there would be a huge mess to tidy up the next day, despite his frequent pleas to her to pick up. Cameron usually laughed it off, making fun of herself as a hopeless slob, and claiming that she was far too busy to pick up after herself on a regular basis.
It was yet another serious issue they were going to have to resolve very soon, and certainly before they began looking for somewhere else to live. Neither of their current places was large enough for both of them, especially given the complete and utter disaster that was Cameron’s closets. Both bedrooms at her place were spilling over with all of her shit, and there was no organization to either closet whatsoever. Nathan wouldn’t even be able to store a single pair of shoes in either one. That they needed a larger place was obvious, but the real dilemma was exactly where that place should be.
His own place in the south of Market area was three blocks from his office, and as a result he walked there most days. Cameron, on the other hand, lived high atop Nob Hill in the multi-million dollar unit her parents had purchased for her ten years ago, while her gallery was on Union Street. She either drove or took taxis to and from work every day. Understandably, both of them wanted to live as close as possible to their jobs, though Nathan at least was willing to compromise and find someplace halfway between. Cameron, however, was being stubborn and so far had only been willing to consider properties within a couple of miles of her gallery.
And Nathan hadn’t even begun to broach the topic of his Tiburon property with her, knowing the timing really wasn’t good right now. Three years ago, during a downturn in the real estate market, he’d bought a vacant lot with amazing waterfront views in the affluent Marin County community. He planned one day – hopefully soon – to finish designing and then building his dream home and living there full time. The weather was great, the community about as safe as possible, the schools highly rated for their future children. But he wasn’t convinced that he’d ever be able to persuade Cameron to live there, devoted city girl that she was.
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