by Eden Proctor
Maybe that wasn’t fair to Nate. She knew that he had his own struggles, that he was human just like everyone else was.
God, she was worse off than she thought. Even when she was thinking of all the reasons that she was foolish to care so deeply for him, even when she was trying to put in the emotional separation and distance that was her only possible hope of getting past her ridiculous feeling, she found a way to defend him.
She was hopeless.
And she was going to get her heart broken.
She didn’t know how she had managed to miss that before. She’d been playing with this fire for years, on the surface telling herself that she was not nurturing that feeling, and all the while, she’d been steadily adding fuel to that fire.
And now that bill was coming due. The bottom line was Nathaniel was not hers, and never would be.
He might decide to call his grandfather’s bluff, or maybe he would get married. But the truth was there was no world where she and Nathaniel would ever be anything other than colleagues, friendly, not even ever friends.
She needed to deal with that.
“Why so down, Mindy?”
Mindy frowned, looked at her wineglass. Either the wine was incredibly strong, or she’d had far more than she realized. Because she was now hallucinating Nathaniel’s voice.
She kept her gaze on the wineglass but then, slowly, turned to look at the direction where she had heard the sound.
So she was seeing things too.
Her gaze collided with the suit-clad chest that she would have recognized anywhere, and when she looked up, she let her gaze caress his strong jaw, lips, the laughing eyes that looked at her now.
“That’s my line,” she said when she finally regained control of herself.
Doing so had taken far longer than she wanted, but Nate didn’t seem to notice. Instead he smiled, then smoothly settled in the seat that had been so recently occupied.
“It seemed appropriate.” He nodded toward the door. “I’m guessing your future husband didn’t just walk out of the restaurant?”
Her heart clenched, but then she shook her head. “Not by a long shot. What are you doing here?”
“I was eating dinner,” he said.
She scowled at him and he laughed.
“I had my own less than pleasant companion,” he said.
“What? You’ve been here the whole time?”
“I don’t know what the whole time is, but yeah, I had dinner here.”
“I’m impressed,” she said, though she was anything but.
“What do you mean?” he asked, eyes narrowing suspiciously.
“Ten hours ago you were distraught, but you managed to pull yourself together enough to find time to wine and dine,” she said.
She hated that she sounded so scornful, hated that she sounded like she cared, but she did, and there was no hiding it.
For what it was worth, Nathaniel cringed. “Don’t know that I’d exactly call it wining and dining,” he said.
His own expression was dark, and Mindy’s alarm spiked.
“You were proposing?”
Her heart raced, but there was no other conclusion. If he wasn’t out doing whatever Nathaniel did, that was the only logical explanation. And from the looks of things it hadn’t gone well.
“She turned you down!” Mindy exclaimed.
She knew that her voice was a near screech now, but the disbelief was a lot to process. For some reason the idea seemed unfathomable. Sure, there were some insane women on the planet who might be able to deny Nathaniel’s obvious looks and charm. But she didn’t think any of them lived in the greater Boston area, and the idea of being his wife was one that would be impossible for most to resist.
“It’s been a rough day, so I’ll take your seeming surprise at the thought that someone might turn me down as a point of pride,” he said.
She looked up at him, saw the way he smiled.
“So you didn’t get turned down,” she said, recovering some of herself.
“Didn’t even get to ask,” he said.
There was a moment’s relief, but it came crashing down quickly. “That means you wanted to ask though?”
It was the path that she had advised, but knowing that he had considered it made her somewhat sad.
“That was the plan. But it’s changed,” he said.
“You came up with another option?” she asked.
He looked at her, his eyes twinkling and Mindy shook her head.
“What?” he asked.
“I recognize that look. That look calls for carbs.”
She waved down a waiter and then ordered a slice of cheesecake.
“So…”
She lifted her hands, shook her head. “Not yet.”
Nathaniel smiled and then nodded somewhat indulgently.
“Fine. So tell me about your date,” he said.
“It was a disaster,” she replied.
“I got that sense. Probably for the best, though. That guy was an asshole,” he said.
“Why are you so sure?” she asked.
“He couldn’t tear his eyes away from his phone. Rude as fuck,” he said.
He spoke the words with a degree of scorn Mindy found incredibly amusing.
She smiled. “Trust me. It was better when he wasn’t talking,” she said.
He lifted his face in a smile. “Now who’s stealing lines?” he said.
Mindy laughed despite herself, finding it shocking that she was amused by Nathaniel referring to his conquests.
“You’re ridiculous. That thing is going to fall off,” she said.
“Don’t worry. That thing is fine. And for the moment it’s the least of my troubles,” he said, his expression sobering.
At just that moment, the waiter dropped the slice of cheesecake in front of her.
Mindy took a bite, and then smiled when Nathaniel did too.
Without speaking, they polished off the piece of cheesecake. It was a moment unlike any they had shared before, the silence of it unusual given how they so often went back and forth. But it wasn’t just the silence.
There was an intimacy to this that they had never shared before. A quiet connection that was as risky as anything else. Because like this, Mindy felt like she could be herself. She didn’t care about her upbringing, her looks, didn’t really think about anything but having this moment with him.
It was almost shattering.
She dropped her fork quickly and then pushed the plate away.
If he noticed, he didn’t say and instead finished his bite before dropping his own fork and then looking at her solemnly.
“If you keep looking at me like that, I’m going to order another slice,” she said.
“You might need it,” he replied.
She patted her hip, even though he couldn’t see her under the table. “Trust me, I don’t. You’re making me worried,” she said.
He tilted his head questioningly. “Worried? Why?” he said.
He asked the question so innocently that Mindy almost might have believed him.
Almost.
“No, the last time you had that kind of expression I ended up on an alpaca farm.”
“You’ve got to check out your investments before you buy. And besides, you had a good time,” he said.
“Nate, I’m allergic to alpacas,” she said, shuddering when she remembered how she’d been a sneezing, puffy-eyed mess.
“Something you wouldn’t have known if we hadn’t taken that trip,” he said.
She shook her head, knowing that this conversation was going nowhere. Still, her trepidation was well-earned. Mindy wasn’t kidding when she said his expression set off warning bells.
He told her that he had a plan, and her gut told her that plan involved her.
Something that excited her, terrified her.
“So, spit it out, Nate,” she said.
“Thank you,” he said, his smile wolfish now.
She shook her head. “No, don�
��t tried to soft sell it. Just say it,” she said.
Nate ignored her completely. “Your insight today was perfect.”
Despite her best intentions she found herself nodding. “Thanks,” she said.
When he smiled at her, she realized she had momentarily lost her focus, but she quickly regained it. “Finish.”
“I think you’re right that Grandfather can be dissuaded from this path, but not yet. I need to give him what he wants in the short term. And besides, the old man seemed happy about the idea, and I want him to be happy.”
“So you’re going to get married?”
“Yes,” Nate said.
She had known this was coming, but still the words felt like a kick in the gut. And again she was reminded of what a terrible position she had put herself in.
“Well good. Glad I could help,” she said.
She swallowed, balled her napkin up, and dropped it on the table. She should have probably taken the time to fold it, but she knew her fingers would tremble with her reaction.
“So. Congratulations, I guess. I’m sorry this had to happen if you didn’t want it to, but I’m sure it’s going to work out,” she said.
Hollow words, ones that she believed far less than she wanted to, but it was the best she could come up with.
Nate gave her an intense look and then nodded. “I’m sure it will too.”
He seemed so calm, much different than he had earlier. She supposed that was a good thing. He was accepting the situation, doing what she herself should have.
“Well, I…” She trailed off, so flummoxed, that she couldn’t quite decide what to say. “Been a long day,” she settled on. “I’ll see you in the morning. But I should get home.”
Nate smiled at her, tilted his head. “You in a hurry?” he said.
“No. I mean I am tired,” she said.
It was a lie.
She’d never felt more awake than she did in this moment, but she was also contending with this new reality, one that she would have to get used to, one that she couldn’t get used to with Nate this close.
He smiled at her again, and her heart thudded. “Mindy, that’s so rude,” he said.
“What?” she asked, her brows lifting.
“You didn’t even ask who the lucky lady is,” he said.
Mindy frowned, her heart thudding again as he spoke, her mind conjuring up the image of the beautiful socialite that would become Mrs. Nathaniel Eaton. The image was crushing, stabbed at her chest like a knife. But when she looked at Nate she knew that she couldn’t say nothing. So she swallowed past the pain and the displeasure that his words brought.
“So, who’s the lucky lady?” she asked, filling her voice with false enthusiasm.
He looked at her, giving her his most beautiful smile.
“You.”
Chapter 5
The look on Mindy’s face was one of shock.
Shock that for some reason surprised him, disappointed him. Nate had expected some pushback. It wouldn’t be Mindy without it. But the look on her face, one of disbelief and abject terror was something he hadn’t considered. He didn’t think she’d be over the moon with joy, but her reaction was a disappointment, though he couldn’t exactly say why.
He ignored that feeling, though, and focused on Mindy.
“Breathe,” he said.
The command must have been necessary, for after he spoke, Mindy took in a deep breath, one that he could see and hear shuddering through her chest. At the very least, breathing seemed to wake her from the dazed semistupor that had come over her before.
She blinked rapidly, but then finally managed a low-lidded stare that made her lashes brush against her cheeks. The look was almost Mindy. She tended to be skeptical, always looked at him with question, as though she were searching for an angle, and this look didn’t appear all that different.
But what was different was the rest of her.
Her jaw was set in a tight clench, and Nate could see how she nervously chewed at the corner of her lips.
For a fleeting moment he allowed himself to think about how cute it was. “Cute” wasn’t normally a word he associated with Mindy, but she definitely was in this moment. Too bad that reaction had come at the expense of his quite serious proposal.
“Yeah, I’m definitely getting more cheesecake. And another glass of wine. A bottle,” she said.
“You need substances to cope with me, Mindy?” he said casually.
She snorted, then again let out her huge, boisterous laugh. That sound also gave Nate some measure of comfort. At least if she was laughing at him she wasn’t stunned frozen, which Nate would count as progress.
“You just told me I was going to marry you. Didn’t even ask, by the way. I think that calls for something,” she said.
She appeared to be recovering well, but she stumbled over the word “marry.” Nate understood her issue. He was still trying to get his head around this too, but he knew Mindy would recover quickly.
“It was more a figure of speech. Thought I’d try something novel,” he said.
She laughed again. “It was novel, all right,” she said.
“So you’ll think about it?” he asked.
He hated the urgency in his voice, but he was eager to get her agreement, wanted something to counteract the shock from earlier. And besides, Mindy never went back on her word. Once he got her to say yes, his problem would be taken care of.
He glimpsed at her again, saw that getting her to say yes might not be as easy as he’d hoped.
She frowned. “Think about what? Marrying you?” she said.
He nodded again. “I’ve given this some serious thought. It’s the most logical solution,” he said.
She didn’t smile this time and instead shook her head in disbelief. “Logical? For who?” she asked.
He could sense the direction of this conversation and quickly went to head it off. “Not just me, Mindy. You. This would help both of us,” he said.
“It wouldn’t help me. I don’t have a grandfather who’s threatening to disinherit me,” she said.
There was steel threaded through her words, and Nate could guess the source of that. Nate knew that Mindy didn’t have much family and that she’d come from a modest background. His problem was one she probably felt little sympathy for. He only hoped he could convince her.
“You don’t. But you know mine. And you know the situation. I don’t have a choice, and like I said, this could help both of us,” he said.
“I can’t believe you’re even thinking of it,” she said, shaking her head again.
“It was your idea,” he said, smiling at her.
“Yeah. But…” She trailed off, looked at him intently.
“But what?” he said.
“But I meant you should find someone…like you. From your world,” she said.
“I did find someone from my ‘world.’ You,” he said, angry at what she was suggesting.
He found it ridiculous that after all these years Mindy, and others, were hung up on stupid class and social distinctions. He paid no attention to that crap and neither did Gordon. That Mindy would try to use it now while he was seeking something so important, was an irritant to say the least. He glared at her, hoping she understood his displeasure. If the slightly guilty look on her face was anything to go by, she did.
“I didn’t mean anything by it,” she spoke quickly, clearly trying to do damage control on the words that had angered Nate so intensely.
“So clarify what you mean by my ‘world,’” he said.
“What I mean is I still think it’s a good idea for you to get married, prove to your grandfather that he can trust you. But I’m not the person who can help you do that,” she said.
He was intrigued now, intrigued enough that some of his rage started to bank. “You’re wrong. I think you are ideal. Grandfather likes you and respects your opinion.”
She nodded. “Which is why I’m the absolute wrong person. When he talks about you get
ting married, I think he’s thinking someone a little more…traditional, more appropriate,” she said.
“Which implies you aren’t either of those things,” he said.
“Exactly!” she replied, seeming to miss the anger that he had tried to hide from his words. “I’m not at all a billionaire’s bride. I’m not a socialite who’s going to improve your family standing, show your grandfather that you’re ready to take the reins,” she said. “So, it’s a good idea, but it needs the right woman. And that woman is not me,” she said.
She spoke with such certainty that Nate knew she believed what she said. And he desperately wanted to change her mind, wanted to punish whoever had made her think she wasn’t worthwhile.
Decided that he would, as soon as he got her agreement.
Asking her had been impulsive, but Mindy really would be ideal. He was certain she was the perfect choice.
Now he just needed to convince her.
One look at her, and he saw that wouldn’t be easy.
He had never thought it would be, but the expression on her face now was one of foreboding. Whatever shock had been there, she had recovered from quickly and with each second that ticked by he could see that she was settling into her position, thinking of more and more reasons why she couldn’t do it.
He needed to act.
“Mindy, I need you. You can help me with this. I need you to help me with this.”
He had added the last on an impulse, one that he didn’t like. He hated to be vulnerable, hated people to know that he might need them, but there was no choice.
“Have you considered the other possibilities?” she asked, completely serious now, any surprise gone.
“Like what?” he asked.
She let out a short bark of a laugh, one that didn’t quite match what he knew of her, and when he looked at her he saw the anger that marred her face.
“So that’s definitely a no. Did it occur to you that maybe I’m seeing someone?” she asked.
The question had occurred to him, and along with it had come annoyance that he hadn’t immediately known whether she was or not.
“Yeah, I did think of that. But after seeing you with your disaster date, I knew that wasn’t the case,” he said.
“Oh,” she said, looking a little guilty for her presumptuousness, some of her anger ebbing.