Never Got Over You

by Scott, S. L.

  He continues, “Most businesses take twelve to twenty-four months to turn a profit.” He clicks something on the keyboard and then squints at the monitor again. “You broke even the past three months. With two of the biggest gift-giving months ahead, we think it would be foolish to pull the plug right now.” I have worked so damn hard, and I’d almost wondered if they weren’t proud of me. But this endorsement goes a long way to heal that pain.

  I try not to let my hopes get ahead of reality, but excitement ignites inside me. “What does that mean?”

  “It means,” my mom starts, “we’ll extend the loan for another year.”

  “Really?” I mentally pack the pie charts and the line graphs I’d memorized away.

  My dad replies, “Yes, but there are conditions because a floundering company is not a good investment. Blow it out of the water.” I wait for more, assuming the agreement will be the same as before. “Get in the black and stay flush in cash. Also, you must pay back ten percent of the loan by the end of the term. You go into default if you miss one of the quarterly payments. Don’t miss one, okay?”

  “I won’t. I promise.” I finally relax back in the chair, holding tight to the slim portfolio I bought to carry my color-coded reports. I hadn’t run over the figures with my accountant to be 100% sure I am in the black, but to hear such endorsement from my parents blows me away. I can do this. They believe in me. “Thank you for the extension. I’ll make you proud. Can we go over my projections together? I’d like you to see where I think STJ is heading.”

  Standing, my mother heads for the door. “I can’t look at them right now. Some investors from out of town have flown in to meet with us this week. We need to prepare for them.” With the door in hand, she adds, “Honestly, Natalie, put your energy into your company, and don’t worry about us. You’re making sound business decisions.”

  “Thanks, Mom, I appreciate you saying that.” The door closes behind her, and my dad asks, “I think that went well. You?”

  “Better than well.” I get up and move around the desk. When we hug, I spy his monitor. Jolting upright, I ask, “Solitaire? I thought you had my account up on the screen.”

  He shrugs. “Sometimes I play to take off some stress.”

  I laugh and then grab my leather portfolio. “I really do appreciate you both supporting this dream.”

  “We support you. I have a call now, so if you’ll excuse me.”

  “Yeah, no worries. Thank you and love you.”

  Slipping out of the office, I do a quick fist pump, then leave before they change their minds. I pass reception and then wait for the elevator to arrive. It’s such a production to get out of here, and I start to lose patience. I just want to call Tatum and share the good news, but I wait to tell her until I’m outside the building where I’m allowed to squeal with glee without embarrassing myself or family.

  When I enter the lobby, I head for the revolving door and spin into it. I only take two steps forward before I’m enclosed in the pie-shape space, and it comes to an abrupt halt. I put my hands flat against the glass and push again. When I’m met with resistance, I shove the side of my arm and hip to the unyielding door. And then again, even harder.

  Crap, I’m trapped.

  A knock on the glass has me looking up to see a familiar face in the opposite compartment as me. Excitedly, I lift onto my tippy-toes as if I can kiss that smirk off his face. “What are you doing here, Nick?”

  He points at the door in front of him and mimes for me to watch out. I’m not sure I have much of an option but to stand still and hope he can dislodge it, so we don’t spend the rest of his time in New York trapped in a glass box staring at each other.

  Setting his hands against the brass bar, he leans into it and then I see him angle down and shove really hard. It doesn’t budge. He catches me watching out of the corners of his eyes and seems to find a new motivation to give it another try. This time, he puts a shoulder into it while looking right at me and slams against it. The momentum has him stumbling forward into the lobby just as the door behind me slams into my ass, sending me flying outside.

  Despite my classic and gorgeous black Chanel “too high to run in” heels, I catch my balance within an inch of my life just as Nick grabs my middle. Phew!

  I tap his chest and tease, “Your timing was off, Counselor.”

  He chuckles. “I guess my glory days of catching women now lie in the past.”

  My breathing is still a little off-kilter, but I don’t care. I’ll sacrifice the air I need to get another kiss from this man. I lift and kiss him with no concern for PDA in broad daylight on a Monday.

  When our lips part, I reach up and rub the lipstick that transferred to his lips, and say, “What a nice surprise.”

  “You’re telling me.” Still holding me with no regard to anyone passing us on the street, he caresses my cheek and kisses me again.

  He makes me feel like more than someone he met at a bar once. He makes me feel like we have a history worth building upon, as though I’ve made his life special, and I’m a great catch—not just physically—but for a relationship. I could wipe that lipstick that lingers near the corner of his mouth, but I have a feeling he doesn’t mind the marking.

  Without the words being said, I know I’ve found someone who makes my life special as well. At least until he leaves tomorrow. But we’ll worry about that when the time comes.

  Stepping back before I maul the man, marking him with hickeys and more red lipstick kisses, I ask, “What are you doing here?”

  “I have a meeting.”

  How ironic. Until I remember there are dozens of companies stashed throughout the building. “Are you busy tonight? I have some celebrating to do, and I hope you’ll be there, too.”

  “I have no plans but you. You’re at the top of my to-do list if you know what I mean.”

  “I do and can’t wait for you to tackle that task later. Since you have my number now, don’t be afraid to use it.”

  He kisses my cheek, then reluctantly takes a step back. “I won’t.” Backing away, he adds, “Sorry, I have to go. I can’t be late for my meeting.”

  I wave him off. “Don’t worry about me. Go.”

  “See you tonight, Ms. St. James.”

  “Can’t wait, Mr. Christiansen.”

  Giving me a little wink, he then turns and dashes in the manual door, skipping the revolving door altogether and leaving me standing here like a schoolgirl with a new boyfriend.

  Maybe I should keep my guard up and not let him so far into my heart. But judging by how I’m floating on top of the world, is it too late to save me now?

  16

  Nick

  “I reviewed the contract you sent to my hotel yesterday. Nothing stood out to me, and everything appears to be in order.” I turn over the last page of the hard copy in front of me and then lift my attention to the legal team of Manhattan Financial. “My family understands the need for a personal touch, but I’m still curious why you wanted to meet in person.”

  Mrs. Singh, one of the three attorneys, rests her clasped hands on the table. Oh yes, I know that move, the technique you learn as a rookie lawyer to put the opposing team at ease and then go in for the kill. Mom’s instruction in meeting protocol and psychology certainly helps, too.

  “This has been a family-owned company since the beginning. We could have gone public, but that’s not what our CEO wants.”

  “Because it no longer supports having a personal hand in the day to day when it’s a commodity.”

  She adds, “Precisely.”

  “Rest assured. Christiansen Wealth Management takes pride in building relationships first and then bank accounts. This is our thirtieth year, and our reputation brings in the business, keeping our marketing budget on the slimmer side and allowing us to invest more into our employees. Our retention rate is as impressive as the names of our clientele.”

  Another attorney, Garrett Stans, who told me to call him by his first name, unlike Mrs. Singh, shif
ts in the leather chair. “So why are you a good fit for our clients?”

  I could rush an answer, but I think they prefer a more thoughtful response over one of arrogance. I search the windows to the city buildings that fill it from end to end. I never get used to how dense it is—gray and brown for as far as the eyes can see, especially on this floor. There’s no sky to be found.

  It’s a rush being a part of a place where you can feel the beat of adrenaline. But I have to say, I prefer the ocean and the peace it brings. Turning back to them, I reply, “Because we care about them as much as their needs. Each client will be given a complimentary meeting in person or via Zoom to discuss their portfolio and their goals. But we want you to know that we’re not looking to let your people go. Quite the opposite. We want to keep them on if they’d like to work with us. Some will inevitably leave, but it won’t be because we’re closing the door on them.”

  “I think John will be pleased with our report.” Garrett stands, and we shake hands while I stand as well. “Thank you for flying in. We wanted to meet with the potential buyer’s team to get a good feel for who they represent.”

  “I appreciate it and look forward to hearing from you soon, hopefully with a positive outcome.”

  Mrs. Singh adds, “And please keep this confidential. The last thing we want to do is make our clients or employees nervous.”

  “I agree. This will remain strictly between the parties involved.”

  “Thank you,” she says with a nod.

  The other attorneys say their goodbyes, but Garrett walks with me back to reception. Talking to me like we’re friends, he says, “If I had to guess, I think selling to your family would be a good move for the bossman. I would be part of the transition team, and I think it would go smoothly based on what you’ve said.”

  “That’s good to hear. My family is looking to get solid footing in New York, and I think the timing of Manhattan Financial selling couldn’t be more perfect.”

  He looks around as if there are spies, then lowers his voice and says, “Selling the company isn’t common knowledge. Not even a hint of it is out there. Everyone involved is under an NDA. We started with feelers and then got solid interest. Our CEO has had some health issues and wants to retire. He was hoping his kids would take on the company. His son is eager but still has another year, and his daughter hasn’t shown interest. He’s now ready to make a move and enjoy his retirement instead of dying on the job.” He stops, seeming to bite his tongue. “I shouldn’t say that. He’s a great guy, really is, but you know the stress of a stockbroker. It wears on you.”

  “Yeah, I hear the same about attorneys.”

  It takes him a second to figure out I’m joking, but then he laughs. “Sure does.”

  Post meeting, I’m left with a lot of information to share with Andrew and my dad. Seems the timing is right to up the offer to cut out the competition and get this deal closed.

  But first, there’s another deal I want to close, one that specifically involves Natalie.

  * * *

  The lights are golden and reflect against the mirrored wall full of bottles, giving the impression of a million stars lit up just for her. She deserves the stars, even in the middle of all these skyscrapers.

  The band is paused as all eyes and ears are trained on the two women standing on the bar. Natalie has a bottle of champagne in her hands and a glittering tiara on her head with Tatum right next to her. I missed the speech, but I’m here for the finale.

  I don’t have to search for my girl. She’s exactly where she should be—owning the room. In a short black skirt that fans out from her hips, it highlights her great legs. A sparkly gold top fails to disguise the shape of her fantastic tits. I’m sure that was the point when she picked it out. Jealousy strikes like lightning, and I scan the place to see what feels like a thousand guys vying for her attention.

  I’m not going to waste time worrying about other guys when I only have one night left to leave an impression of my own.

  This is quite the sight. She knows how to celebrate. From how she dressed to the champagne, she could be easily discounted as a party-girl socialite, but it doesn’t matter what she wears. Her aura has everyone in the room mesmerized, including me.

  Weaving my way through the crowd, I notice how different this bar is to the ones in LA. It’s quaint, like everyone here is friends. In LA, I tend to see the same group of people, but it feels more competitive there, like we keep our enemies closer instead of our friends near.

  Tatum shouts, “In celebration of my best friend, a glass of champagne for everyone.”

  I’m quick to cut through the cheering just before the ladies start to climb down. The band begins playing on the far side of the room, and everyone returns to their own conversations just as I reach them. Rubbing Natalie’s calves to get her attention, I’m greeted with a spark in her eyes that rivals her shirt for catching the light. I’d never get tired of looking at her, but it’s her personality that has me craving more time with her. “Need a lift?”

  She sets the bottle on the bar and squats down, miraculously balancing on thigh high, sexy fucking-heeled, black boots. “Thought you’d never ask.” Her smile is infectious, her laughter better than any melody a band could create. While she holds her tiara, I lift her by the waist and set her down safely.

  I turn back to Tatum. “Would you like help?”

  “Thanks.” When I set her feet on the ground, she comes in to give me a hug. “It’s good to see you again. It would be better if Harrison was with you.”

  Chuckling, I look down, rubbing my chin. “Yeah, I think he’d agree.”

  Natalie flies into my arms and rests her head on my shoulder. “If only destiny wasn’t so wicked and would keep us abreast of her plans.”

  Enjoying the feel of holding her again, I rub down her back and back up again. To Tatum, I say, “I’ll bring him with me next time.”

  She smiles, and it’s easy to see why Harrison was attracted to her. Fun and easy-going. Pretty and great taste in friends. The best, actually. I kiss my girl on the forehead, and she looks up at me. “Glad to hear there’s a next time planned. When is that exactly?”

  “When would you like it to be?”

  “Wednesday.”

  I start laughing. “So fly home Tuesday and return on Wednesday?” I raise an eyebrow. “I’m all in, baby, but I can’t say the same for my bosses.”

  “I thought you worked with your family?”

  “I do. They’re my bosses.”

  Tatum hands her a glass of champagne. Natalie takes a sip and rolls her head on her neck. “I worked for my family for years as an intern. I couldn’t imagine doing it full-time for my career. Not that they’re bad people or bosses, but I want to do something I love.”

  “If you can make money at something you love, then you’ll never work a day.”

  “That’s my philosophy. And you need some champagne because we’re celebrating. I got an extension on my loan for another year.”

  “Are all these people your friends?”

  She laughs again, the sound as effervescent as the champagne. “No. This is just one of our favorite places to celebrate.”

  Tatum moves closer. “Though we probably know most of them.”

  Ah. It seems so by how lively the crowd is in their presence. I’ve always been fairly casual when it came to women. They come and go, and I let them, sometimes encouraging them to take off, and maybe we’ll hook up again. I don’t have to chase them, thanks to the genes I inherited, but the more laid-back I was, the more possessive some of them got. It’s weird how that works.

  I’m not like that with Natalie. I met an independent woman with her own goals and dreams to accomplish. I won’t be the center of her world because she doesn’t cling, despite currently clinging to me. She’s not alone, considering I’m doing the same to her. But I’m starting to wonder if there’s more to us than a few days here and there.

  It’s not something I’ve wanted, but she makes
me smile and is fun, lives life on her own terms, and is open to having me be a part of it. So far . . .

  Tatum hands me a glass, and the three of us toast to Natalie’s success. Tatum quickly disappears, not even bothering with an excuse to free herself of the burden of witnessing me kiss Natalie like I’ve wanted to since we left the bed this morning. “I missed you,” I whisper against her cheek and then go lower to kiss her neck.

  Her arms tighten around me again, and she kisses me just under my ear. “I missed you, too.” Tilting back, she finds my eyes. “How did your meeting go?”

  “It went well. I think we’ll be making a deal, but my dad and brother have often said not to count the eggs before they hatch.” She laughs.

  “Yes, that makes sense.”

  “How long are we staying, beautiful?”

  “The more drunk people get, the less they notice anyone else. Well, I say at least an hour, as it would be rude not to, don’t you think?”

  “For you, anything.” I want to tell her that I’m all in, but it’s been what? Twenty-four hours at best? Yesterday at this time, she was on another date with someone else. Maybe that’s why I should hold my feelings back a bit, or maybe it’s the crowded room here to celebrate her. Either way, I’ll take tonight and all it brings.

  Time doesn’t matter when it comes to us.

  “I’m glad you’re here, Nick.”

  “Same here. First Catalina, then New York. And now we have each other’s last names and phone numbers.” We’ve made love and fucked, but I’m not sure here is the place to remind her of that. “Here’s to us.”

  “It’s like we skipped the slow ride up the tracks and met at the top of the roller coaster. Now we’re shifting into warp speed, and I don’t know if I’m strapped in safely.”

  I straighten the crown on top of her head. “Don’t worry, baby. If you fall, I’ll catch you.”

  17

  Natalie

  I shouldn’t like being his baby as much as I do, but it’s amazing how views on things like that change when with the right person.