Trouble

by Nicole, Angela

  Operation Get Hennie Back is on.

  I have some time before I have to pick her up at CJJ, so I make a run to the butcher around the corner. It has everything I need for a nice meal. I chose two steaks and then made a stop at the deli next door for some fresh asparagus, roasted herb potatoes, and a bottle of wine.

  After a quick clean-up of my place, I make a call to Nolan. To say he’s shocked Hennie agreed to see me is an understatement. He reminded me to go slowly and not scare her off. My head knows he’s right, but my heart is another story. There’s nothing I want more than to go full steam ahead with Hennie by my side.

  Before I leave, I check my work email. Things are quiet— too quiet, in fact. If I can’t convince Hennie to stay, I don’t know how I’m going to get this company on the right track. Sure, there are other PR firms, but there’s only one Hennie Marsh.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Hennie

  “Do you think I should take on Tate’s account?” I shoot the question to Taylor as she fishes through the folders on her desk.

  I know I told Tate I wouldn’t mention it to her, but when she quizzed me on it, I couldn’t lie. When I told her about my past with Tate, she was surprised. That surprise grew into concern as to whether or not Tate had some sort of nefarious reasons for wanting me to take on his account. When I assured her Tate was not a physical threat to me, she started to dig.

  “I thought you already told him you weren’t going to do it? I already placed a call to Tessie so we could go over what Mr. Palmer needs.”

  I blow out a breath as I sit back in Taylor’s red leather chair opposite her. Damn, Taylor moves fast. Truth is, I’m not sure I can walk away just yet. Perhaps that’s why, against my better judgment, I agreed to an early dinner with Tate. And now the mention of Tessie being the one who’ll be working closely with Tate, well, I’m jealous.

  I’m sure Tate won’t be too upset spending time with the gorgeous, leggy redhead, but maybe I’m thinking about this all wrong. If I were to work on his account, I could make him regret what he did to me. I’d have to be subtle about it, of course.

  “Hennie?”

  “Sorry, Taylor. I don’t mean to be a pain, but could you give me another day to think about it?”

  She smiles. “Of course. But if you choose to take on the account, I want to be assured the personal history between the two of you won’t affect your work.”

  “It won’t. What happened was a long time ago, and we were so young. Ten years have passed. We’re both different people.”

  “Ten years is a bit of time, sure, but Hennie, we never forget our first love or our first heartbreak.”

  I don’t know why I’m getting agitated. Maybe it’s because Taylor is questioning my professionalism. Yeah, I can make Tate Palmer regret cheating on me, but I’ll make sure to do it professionally. I would never risk CJJ losing a client.

  I wave her off nonchalantly. “I’m going to go over some things with him later. If I think I’m the right person for the job, it won’t be an issue.” At least, I hope not, I say to myself.

  Taylor doesn’t seem convinced, but she gives me the twenty-four hours to see if I can work with Tate. Now, I just need to reign in my physical reactions when I see him.

  After freshening up in Taylor’s private bathroom, I say a quick goodbye before I head downstairs to wait in the lobby.

  Making my way to the sofa, I look around the marble and brass decorated lobby. I start to picture myself coming to work here in Manhattan every day. It’s so different from California, but if I’m being honest, Manhattan beats California in my book any day. I mean, it’s been years since I’ve seen snow. The holidays just don’t seem the same without it. And now, with my parents living in Florida, I don’t get a real northern winter.

  Memories of winter fun with Tate come racing back to me. Tate and I loved snowmobiling around his uncle’s farm. While the farm was an expanse of cleared land for his cattle, the woods laid just at the edge. Tate’s uncle groomed the trails, so they were wider for us to run our machines. Midnight runs were the best. With the winter moon helping to illuminate the trails, Tate and I would make our way to our favorite spot.

  It was so intimate being out on in the woods alone with Tate. The quietness of the woods at midnight hung over us. The only sounds to be heard were those of two young people kissing. So many times on nights like those, it was difficult to stop the physical touching. But somehow, we always did. I wanted Tate to be my first. Hell, I wanted him to be my last. Neither of those things can happen now.

  I don’t know how long I’m lost in thought before I notice him standing in front of me. He’s dressed casually in jeans and a button-down shirt. Tate’s dark hair is tousled about as if he’d been running his hand through it. He’s still the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen. With a side smirk as if he’s reading my mind, Tate pushes off the half-wall across from where I’m sitting.

  “You look deep in thought,” his voice is so much deeper and sexier than I remember.

  “Nothing important.” I can’t let him know I was missing him. Damnit, I don’t miss him, not after Izzy.

  “You look gorgeous, Hennie.”

  I can feel my cheeks heat up from his compliment. Glancing down, I notice my green wrap dress is probably showing a little too much cleavage, but screw it.

  Operation Tate Can Eat His Heart Out has begun.

  I manage to voice a thank you in a confident tone, even if it is just an act. Around Tate Palmer, I’m no longer the confident public relations professional.

  “Our car is right out front. I thought we’d go back to my place and have a nice early dinner.”

  Quickly, my eyes move from my feet to his face. “You want to go back to your place?”

  I can’t go there. We’ll be in private with no one to run interference.

  “Nolan said he might stop by for a quick hello. He misses you.”

  Ah, my weak spot. Nolan, Tate’s best friend, was like a big brother to me, and if I’m being honest, I’ve missed him over the years too. But I knew I couldn’t reach out for fear of finding stuff out about Tate. I guess it’s a moot point now.

  “I’d love to see Nolan.” I blow out a breath, resigned to the fact I’m going to Tate’s place. But then it hits me— I don’t know anything about Tate’s personal life at this point. What if he’s married?

  “Are you married?” I blurt out.

  I cringe as Tate throws his head back and laughs but then immediately turns serious. “No, Trouble, I’ve never been married. How could I ever marry someone, when the one meant for me, was living on the other side of the country?”

  My chest tightens as the words fall from his sexy mouth, a mouth I miss.

  Clearing my throat, I try not to let him see just how much that statement affected me. I brush it off without acknowledgment. “I’m ready whenever you are.”

  The second the statement comes out, I know I have to clarify as his eyebrows shoot up. “I meant I’m ready to go to your place, not get married.”

  Now, I’m not sure, but I think I see a hint of disappointment. Perhaps it’s only me wishing.

  With a quick nod, Tate signals for me to walk in front of him. The sudden goosebumps I feel are amplified the minute he places his hand on my lower back. I turn to look at him over my shoulder. When our eyes meet, I see his Adam’s apple move up and down as he swallows. All I can visualize is placing gentle kisses on his neck and throat.

  “The, um, car is right out front, Hennie.” His voice is quiet but just loud enough to send a zap of electricity through my body. How the hell am I going to get out of this?

  Chapter Eighteen

  Tate

  The second my hand made contact with Hennie, I knew the connection between us wasn’t lost. I could see it in her eyes just as I’m sure my soul was bared to her. I didn’t say much to her on the ride back to my place, and she didn’t offer conversation either. For me, at least, I needed the twenty-minute ride to calm both my heart
and my dick down. Usually, I’d be glad the Manhattan traffic isn’t heavy, but not today. We make it to my place quicker than I anticipated. The second we pull up to the curb, I hear Hennie gasp.

  “You live in a brownstone?”

  “Yeah. It was the worst one on the block. I got a great deal on it, and Nolan helped me to bring it back to the way is used to look. Wait here,” I say as I stare at the back of her long blonde hair. She’s still looking at my place through the car window.

  I make my way around to her side, rubbing my sweating hands on my legs. I open the door and hold my hand out to her. Hennie looks as if my hand is a snake waiting to bite her. She slowly lays her hand in mine, the small action a precious gift she’s giving me. Not only am I trying to show her I can be a gentleman, but I want her to also see me as someone she can trust, even though I broke that trust ten years ago.

  “I pictured you living in some sort of modern building, not a brownstone.”

  As I usher her up the steps, I notice she is looking from one end of the street to the other.

  “A brownstone represents what kind of life I want to have, Hennie. I want a family someday, and to me, a brownstone is more a home than an apartment in a high-rise.”

  Hennie doesn’t say anything to my comment about having a family. Disappointment sets in when I think I may be living in some fantasy world. Maybe I’m asking too much for her forgiveness.

  I move around Hennie so I can open the door, and once I do, she makes her way into my home for the first time. I’ve played this scene over in my head the last few weeks, and her reaction doesn’t disappoint.

  “Tate?” She says my name as a question, and she’s questioning what she sees. I don’t say anything at first, letting my decorating sink in. Hennie moves along the interior brick walls, which are lined with photos of me, Nolan, and Hennie. We were like the Three Musketeers, after all.

  Hennie stops at a photo of just the two of us. It was taken on the night we both said our first ‘I love you.’ Nolan took the picture as Hennie, and I walked off hand-in-hand to our favorite spot in my uncle’s field.

  Hennie’s hand moves up to the frame, and her fingers move lightly over the glass.

  “Why do you have this, Tate? Did you put this up on my account?”

  There’s a harshness to her voice.

  “These were the first things I put up after I renovated. You may not believe me, Hennie, but my time back upstate with you was the best time of my life.”

  Hennie snorts as she turns to me. “It was mine too until you screwed Izzy Benton.”

  Her finger is now pointed up at me. She’s fucking gorgeous when she’s pissed. I’m trying not to smile because I know how hurt she was when I told her I cheated on her. She never asked for details, and I didn’t offer them. The less she knew, the easier it was to lie.

  “Whatever. She probably gave you a blowjob. That was her specialty. You know what, Tate? I can’t do this.” Her arms flail at her side. “I need to be able to trust the person I’m working with, and right now, I don’t trust you.”

  You know when people say they feel as if they were punched in the gut? Well, that’s how I feel, along with my heart being ripped from my chest. Before I can verbally respond, I hear footsteps behind us.

  “Henrietta Marie Marsh, damn, you’re a sight for sore eyes,” Nolan whistles.

  Hennie’s downturned mouth shifts up into a big smile as she lays eyes on my best friend.

  “Nolan Lee White, I can’t believe you’re here.”

  My best friend hugs Hennie. I’m not sure why it bothers me so much, but it does. Maybe it’s because she doesn’t hate him the way she hates me.

  Nolan glances at me and must notice I’m giving him the ‘now is not a good time’ look. He recovers quickly.

  “I, um, just wanted to stop by and see you. It’s been too damn long, Hennie.”

  “Oh, don’t leave, Nolan.” Hennie looks at him as if he is her lifeline. Perhaps if he stays for a while, she will too. Nolan just became my lifeline too.

  “Come on in, man. Stay for a little while.”

  Confusion crosses Nolan’s face. Hennie looks between the two us, and I nod to him, letting him know it’s okay.

  “Just for a few minutes. I need to go check on the Brooklyn site.”

  He’s lying, and I know it, but I get he’s in a tight spot.

  The three of us make our way into my living room. It’s an open floor concept, so the kitchen is open to the living room. Nolan and I tore out the wall between the two rooms because I wanted to be able to see my wife and kids while I cooked. And every time I imagined that scenario, it was Hennie I saw.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Hennie

  What the hell am I thinking, sitting here with Tate and Nolan? Tate is sitting on his black leather sofa along with Nolan. I immediately chose the chair so I wouldn’t have to sit so close to Tate. My sense of resolve has been hanging by a thread ever since I saw the pictures he has in his entryway.

  I keep telling Tate I’m done, yet something pulls at me to stay. This time, it’s one of the sweetest and goofiest guys I know. But something about Nolan has changed. I see it in his eyes as he sits across from me. Something is dark about him now. I know Tate said he’s changed since his time in the military. I just hope part of who he used to be is still in there.

  “So tell me what you’ve been up to all these years, Hen?”

  I rattle on for about ten minutes about my schooling and internship.

  “I’ve been working as a Public Relations professional for the last six years with CJJ PR. It’s my dream job. I just finished up with a major real estate company when Catherine told me about the Jensen account.”

  My eyes go to Tate. “I was engaged, but it ended a little over a year ago.”

  Tate mutters something to the effect of ‘what the fuck’ under his breath. Perhaps he didn’t keep as many tabs on me as he thought.

  “Engaged, huh? Wow!” Nolan is genuinely surprised, but probably not as much as the man sitting next to him.

  “Will you excuse me for a minute,” Tate growls as he gets up and goes to the kitchen.

  Nolan chuckles. “I don’t think Tate knew that little tidbit, did he?” he whispers.

  Part of me regrets blurting it out the way I did, but damnit, I don’t owe Tate anything. I especially don’t need to explain my love life to him.

  Nolan and I both jump at the loud bang that comes from the kitchen. Tate dropped a metal bowl on the floor, which shouldn’t be a big deal, but I notice Nolan start to look as if he’s going to have a panic attack. He leans back against the sofa, closing his eyes. The noise must’ve brought back some sort of bad memory.

  “Are you okay, Nolan?”

  “Yeah, just don’t like sudden loud noises is all.” He smiles but doesn’t open his eyes.

  I totally understand what he’s feeling. Perhaps not what he experienced but the feeling of being on the verge of losing control. I need some time myself. “Could I please use your restroom?”

  Tate nods down the hall. “It’s just past my office on the left.” His voice is gruff. He’s pissed, but there isn’t anything I can do about it.

  As I pass the kitchen, I notice he has some steaks out. I’m not sure I can eat with the tension in the room. Making my way down the hall, I pass by Tate’s office. It’s decorated in dark wood and leather, reminding me of a room you’d find in a movie from the 1940s. It’s homey and comfortable. I step in for a quick glance around. It smells like Tate.

  I maneuver around the desk, so I can look out the window at the street below. I’m not trying to be nosy, but I notice some pictures on the desk. Tate has a photo of him and his Uncle Mike. I can tell Mike was ill in the photo. He was always such a big, muscular man, he couldn’t have weighed more than a hundred thirty pounds in the picture. I swallow the sudden lump in my throat and try to fight the tears as they well in my eyes.

  Losing his uncle must have been so difficult for Tate. I almost ha
te myself for not being there for him, but that was a choice Tate made. Had he not cheated on me, I would’ve stayed by his side.

  I begin to make my way back since I didn’t actually need to use the bathroom when I hear Tate and Nolan talking. Leaning against the wall in the hallway, I strain to hear what they’re saying. They’re talking about me, about something that happened before I left town for California.

  Moving a little closer, I hear what Nolan says to Tate.

  What the hell?

  Chapter Twenty

  Tate

  “You need to tell her the truth, Tate. It’s time Hennie knows you didn’t cheat on her with Izzy.”

  “I don’t know, man. I’m walking on eggshells here.” I lean against my counter. “I thought for sure she’d still have feelings for me. Last night, it felt like it at least, but she keeps telling me she can’t do this.”

  “You owe her the truth about what actually happened that night at the diner and why you wanted her to think you cheated. You’re both adults now, Tate. She can handle it, and you need to get that burden off your shoulders.”

  I jump at the sudden sight of Hennie standing at the edge of my hallway. Her blue eyes are as big as softballs. And speaking of balls, I have a feeling mine are about to get squeezed.

  “Tate? What is Nolan talking about?”

  Shit. Hennie makes her way to my kitchen. I didn’t hear her come into the room. Apparently, neither did Nolan.

  “Hennie, Nolan was just . . . ”

  “I heard him say you didn’t cheat on me,” she huffs. The incredulous look on her face cuts me to the quick.

  “Um, I think I’m gonna go. Hennie, it was so good to see you. I hope we can stay in touch.”

  Hennie doesn’t even look at Nolan. Her eyes are pinning me in my spot, and I don’t dare to look away. “Nolan, don’t you dare move. Apparently, you know more about this than I do.”