by Ella Brooke
“I submit to your superior judgment,” he said. Patrick started to suggest that they go when something caught his eye.
“Did you try on that one?” he asked, and Natalie looked over surprised.
“No. It's… it's not really office attire, is it?”
“Will you?”
The request popped out of his mouth, and he wondered all over again what it was about this girl that did it. For once, she didn't argue. Instead, her face took on a look that he could only call shy, and she grabbed the dress and hurried to the dressing room.
When she emerged, Patrick's heart hurt a little. The sky-blue sundress fit her as if it had been made for her, clinging to her curves before billowing out to a full and floating skirt below. It gave her skin a glow, made her black hair look as lustrous as black wood.
“You are getting that,” he said when she started to protest.
“Why?”
“Because you are beautiful like that,” he retorted, and the look on her face, so startled that she almost forgot to be delighted, was worth it.
“You are being very generous with me,” she said as she paid for the clothing.
“Oh, I'm sure I'll work you hard enough to make up for it,” he said, and she gave him another stubborn look. He kept a straight face, but had to admit that she was adorable when she looked at him like that.
“Well, I'm sure that I'll keep up.”
“I hope so,” Patrick replied, and he was startled by how very much he meant it.
Chapter Six
Three weeks later, Natalie had come to the conclusion that Patrick must be a devil in disguise.
“Otherwise, how would you be able to work as hard as you do?”
Patrick shot her an amused look over the curry that he had ordered for them. No matter how much she might complain about the man's long hours and his love of infinitely precise work, she had to admit that he fed her well.
“I like to think it has more to do with having a father who set a good example and having a strong work ethic demonstrated often to me,” he said with amusement. “And you don’t do so badly yourself when you are properly motivated.”
“Yes, well, it was a little different when I first walked into the place,” she grumbled. “If you hadn't already bought me clothes and promised me a place on your couch, I might have just said ‘screw it’ and walked out.”
The work space was a large, old building in the heart of one of Dublin's more traditional neighborhoods. Most of the building was in fine shape because the Adair firm took pains to keep their real estate in good order. There was a trained staff working in real estate on the first four floors. However, the two floors Patrick had mentioned were seemingly filled with the business documents and correspondence of what must’ve been the last fifty years or so. Opening any set of drawers might result in discovering a series of out of date land leases, a bunch of personal letters or, as in one unfortunate circumstance, a nest of very angry spiders.
Patrick dealt with the spiders, and Natalie took a moment to figure out whether she needed to find a new job. The work was difficult but interesting, and she would have been lying if she said that she didn't enjoy it at all.
As Patrick ate his Indian food, Natalie found that she could not take her eyes off of the man seated across from her. Over the past few weeks, she had grown somewhat used to his good looks. She supposed it was like working in the sun; eventually, you had to get used to the glare or it might just overwhelm you. However, though his good looks were beginning to make less of an impression, she couldn't say the same for the rest of him.
Over the past few weeks of working with Patrick, she had gotten to know the man himself — and the man intrigued her. She knew that there was a lot that he was not telling her, but what he did tell her made her curious. He had traveled the world and returned home to Dublin, he talked about beautiful women in his past but there seemed to be no one in his life now, and somewhere under all the charm and amusements, she suspected that he was in fact a very tired, lonely man.
He was also very proud, set in his ways, and determined to do things his way. They had gotten into more than one shouting match, and even if he looked amused when she shouted back, she was still determined to make him see things from her perspective.
And then...
Then there's that other thing, she thought darkly.
He hadn't touched her since the night she walked him up to his bed. She caught him watching her off and on as they worked, oftentimes with a rather pensive look in his eyes and a curious light behind them. Those looks always caught her off guard, and sometimes even made her stumble. During those times it was a relief to run away to some other floor, to chat with the workers who were always friendly and eager to share their lunch and their gossip.
When she ran, she could always feel his blue eyes following her, and it made her entire body warm up.
At night they went back to his townhouse, and the evenings passed well. He was always careful to allow her to find her own space, but when they did talk, they could talk for hours about everything under the sun. Once in a while, she managed to forget that the man who was talking with her so easily was her boss, but eventually reality would come crashing back down on her. She knew who he was, and she knew what he was. She needed to keep her distance for her own sake, but as the weeks went by, it was getting harder and harder to do so.
Patrick's office was at the very top of the building, set as a separate structure on top of the roof. There was something lonely about it; it reminded her a great deal of the belfries she had seen in the great old churches, a place of height and beauty and cold. On days where a look from Patrick would fluster her too much, she would be in full retreat, finding work to do on the other floors. Slowly but surely the building was coming together, and despite Natalie's own love of chaos and waywardness, a part of her loved to see it.
Be careful, girl, she told herself. This is how you end up working a desk job in Dublin for the rest of your life. A desk job in Dublin is no better than one in Madison, so be ready to jump when you need to.
“What in the world are you frowning at so viciously?” asked Patrick with a smile.
“Nothing much,” she said after a moment. After all, she really shouldn't tell her boss that she was getting so attached to him that it was making it hard for her to move on, should she? “I was just thinking about the work we're doing here. It looks good, and it should be done soon, right?”
Patrick nodded, and then he grinned with obvious pride at the building they stood in. She still wondered what in the world he meant when he asked her if she recognized him all those weeks ago. She supposed that at some point she should look it up, but it kept slipping her mind. Besides, what could an Internet article tell her about the man who was looking into her eyes now? She was beginning to think that she knew him quite well.
“I think so,” he said. “I hope so. This place deserves better than to simply be a storehouse for forgotten paper that no one wants.”
He glanced at her with a thoughtful glance before continuing.
“There are opportunities at Adair for people as quick as yourself, though. I had not expected it of you when you first appeared, but you are a fine employee.”
“Gee, thanks. Such faith you had in me,” Natalie teased, and then she looked at Patrick in surprise when he laughed. It was a handsome laugh, she thought absently, but then she tilted her head at him.
“What is it? What's so funny?”
“You are, Yankee girl,” he said when his laugh had stilled. “Did you not hear yourself?”
Natalie looked at him, baffled.
“What are you talking about.”
“'Such faith you had in me,'” he mimicked. “You truly cannot hear that? You're beginning to pick up a Dubliner accent.”
“Am I?” she asked in surprise, but of course now that she was listening for it, she couldn't hear it. Natalie shook her head.
“I sound just like a plain American to me.”
“I'm sure hearing it will come in time. After all, you said it so neatly, too.”
She laughed with him, but if Natalie didn't quite know how to feel. She had never stayed long enough anywhere in her travels to pick up an accent. The fact that she was doing so here in Dublin was slightly unnerving. It was as if she could feel gossamer strings from this beautiful city reach out to wrap her up completely, bringing her closer and closer to a time when she could not leave.
Well, of course I could leave. I can leave any place and any person if I have to. It's just.... leaving Dublin would be hard.
She had to admit it to herself, in the sanctity of her own head if nowhere else.
Leaving Patrick would be hard.
Of course, her boss was finishing up his curry with absolutely no idea of what was going on in her mind. He stuffed the carry out dishes back in the bag they had come in, and when she offered them, he took her empty plate as well.
“Well, no rest for the wicked, I suppose. Natalie, are you ready to get back at it?”
She offered him a smile that was mostly sincere. There was some part of her that admired his work ethic, even if she would rather he made more time for himself. The rest of her thoughts, she stuffed back into the back of her head. She could deal with them later or not at all. That worked.
Of course, she could not predict that that evening Patrick chose to talk to her about her future. After another long day, they ended up at a small restaurant within walking distance of the office. It was a place that served pizza, and feeling nostalgic for the United States for once, Natalie suggested that they eat there. As Patrick ordered for the both of them, she reflected on long it had been since she had had a proper slice of New York pizza.
“Was this what you were hoping for?” Patrick asked curiously, and she smiled at him.
“The truth is that pizza isn't really that special. I mean, you throw the ingredients together and you bake it on some kind of round crust, and you generally have a pizza. The problem is that there are so many variations, it can be very difficult to find one that is right, or at least, right to you. This is very good, don't get me wrong...”
“But it's not what you wanted,” he finished for her, and she nodded.
“There are many other pizza places in the city,” he said with an easy smile. “We can try them one by one until you find the one that feels, or should I say tastes, most like home.”
“That actually sounds very sweet,” she said, touched in spite of herself. “But I mean, remember that personal prejudice is a thing. I might taste something that is objectively the best pizza in the world, and I still won't want anything to do with it because it's not the pizza I’m used to.”
She might have waxed poetical about her favorite pizzas for hours, but Patrick took on a thoughtful expression. Natalie had just a moment to wonder what was coming before he spoke again.
“I don't hear you talk much about home,” he said. “Do you miss it at all?”
“Where's home?” she responded. I grew up all over the place. Mom was never as much of a nomad as I turned out to be, but she needed to move around for her job when she had one. Home could be just about any place.”
She thought that Patrick, so strongly rooted in Dublin, might disapprove of her words, but instead he nodded.
“It occurs to me that the floors that need help are going to be finished sooner than I thought they were. That is in no small part due to your efforts.”
Natalie shrugged, less comfortable with the compliment than she would have thought.
“That's my big secret, I guess. I did a fair amount of clerical stuff back before I followed Joe halfway around the world. It's work that I can do, especially if there's good money in the offering.”
“That brings me to my next point,” Patrick said, setting his pizza down. Natalie felt a shiver of dread for some reason. She told herself that there was really no reason at all to feel that way, but it was there.
“Does it?” she asked, trying to steer the conversation elsewhere. “I mean we could just bring you to the next slice of pizza or some ice cream if you like.”
He smiled at her, but he continued. She could imagine that this was the sort of determination that got him where he was today, but right now, she wasn't sure that she appreciated it all that much.
“I know that you are putting away the money that you have earned, and that’s great. I also know that you cannot stay on my couch forever.”
She gave him a wary look, and to her surprise, he laughed at her.
“Don't give me that look, I am not kicking you out.”
“You're not?”
“Not at all. Why would I do that to a woman who has made things move so much more quickly at the office?”
She couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment. There was nothing intriguing about the job itself. It had more to do with Patrick, and whatever little fantasies she might have had about him and his muscles, his height and his strength. She knew that there was no way that a man like this would be interested in her, but still, there was that kiss. Natalie realized now that she might have put a little more thought into that kiss than she should have. It was the truth, but it still stung.
“So, I imagine that you have a point to all of this,” she said, and though she could hear the tartness in her own tone, Patrick seemed oblivious.
“There is an apartment not all that far from mine. It is an elegant space, one that I own personally rather than the firm owning it. It is in very good hands. The building manager is a fine woman who has been looking after it for quite some time.”
She looked at him, and she could feel a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.
Oh, come on. I told him early on what I couldn't deal with.
“Of course I can get you in there,” he said. “And on your salary, it should be a good choice for your budget. It'll be a fine place for you to live and work.”
Natalie knew that any other woman would be thanking him, thrilled by the consideration he was giving her and eager to see the place. Natalie, however, wondered if she could feel a wind whipping at her, urging her to be off, urging her to run before the bindings that tied her to this place. When she looked at Patrick's face, however, there was a part of her that did not want to run — and perhaps that was the most terrifying thing of all.
“If you like, you could be moved in before the end of the week. It's not as if you have much, after all. You could be settled, and then perhaps I could give you some housewarming gifts to get you started.”
“No!”
The word burst past her lips so loudly that a man at the other table turned his head to see what was the matter. Natalie could feel herself blush a little, but she knew that the red on her cheeks was as much about rage as it was about embarrassment. She might be reluctant to make a scene at a restaurant, but she was not so spineless that she might want to stay silent and let some man she had not known for more than two months take control of her life.
Right now, said man was looking at her with his head cocked. His genuine confusion irritated her more than anything else did, and when he spoke, his words maddened her even further.
“What are you talking about?” he asked, and his voice was so reasonable and so quiet that she might have wanted to overlook it all. Then she looked at him, and she felt that tug in her heart again, and underneath it the pent-up heat that had been broiling ever since that single kiss at the townhouse.
“I said no,” Natalie continued. Her voice was softer now, but there was an intensity in it that made her feel as if she was burning up. “No to all of it. No to the apartment that you want to offer me, no to the good word that you want to put in with the landlord, no to the chains that you are offering me and pretending that it is something else.”
She could see her words sink in for Patrick, and when they did, he scowled at her.
“I am not offering you some hovel on the moor,” he started, but she cut him off with a jerky motion of her hand.
“I wouldn't care if you were offering me Buckingham Palace or the White House,” she fired back. “I told you when we first started this that this was temporary. This isn't forever, and I am not going to put down roots here just because you think I'm amazing at filing.”
He looked taken aback by that.
Good, she thought, her emotions tinged with bitterness.
“I don't want your damn charity,” she said, and she had to take a deep breath to pull back the tears that were stinging her eyes. “I don't want that apartment, and I don't want to be grateful because you think I should be like everyone else.”
“Oh, believe me when I say that I know that you are not like anyone. Anyone else would have a bit of sense that God gave a damn turnip and jump on such a good offer.”
“It's not a good offer when it's not what I want,” she snapped. “You should know that, but maybe you are so used to getting what you want that you can't even think that other people might want something different.”
“When that ‘something different’ is to live like some kind of homeless waif dependent on the tides of chance and the good fortune of others, I suppose I do not sympathize,” he growled.
Natalie realized with a pang that Patrick was actually angry. It gave her a moment of pause, and then she realized that she was angry now as well.
“I don't care if you sympathize or not,” she said. “I need you to respect my choices. I need you to know that I don't want the same things you want, and that will never change.”
She could see nothing that looked inclined to budge at all in his wild blue eyes, and with a shake of her head, she stood up from the table.
“Thank you for dinner,” she said, her voice glacially cold. “I do not think that I will be staying for dessert.”
“Don't you dare walk out while we are still—”
“I think I will do as I please,” she retorted. “After all, I am still a free woman, and I can come and go as I like, can’t I?”
The look that he gave her was one of mingled shock and anger, but slowly, he took his hand off of her arm. The people around them were staring, and for some reason, some terrible person decided to take a picture of this awful moment. In normal circumstances, Natalie would have whirled around and shouted at them, but right now, she was too furious.