by Linde, K. A.
“You look like you’re ready to dive in,” Lewis noted as we took our seats across from his parents.
“If it was open, I might actually do it. I’m dying to have a pool again.”
“Natalie was a college swimmer,” Lewis explained.
“Well, you can use this one anytime you like once we open it again,” Nina said. “Lord knows it doesn’t get enough use anymore.”
“Thank you. That’s very generous,” I said.
I leaned back into my seat and enjoyed my drink. Lewis’s parents laughed and joked with each other as if they were still those teens who had fallen in love at Harvard. It was adorable.
“Okay. I have to clean up before the maid gets here in the morning. Otherwise, she is going to cuss at me in every language that she knows,” Nina said.
“Nina,” Edward complained.
She kissed him once. “I will be back as soon as I’m done. You know I hate a messy house.”
He sighed. “Fine. But do be quick.”
She laughed and took her empty glass with her.
“She’s going to be at it all night,” Lewis told me. “Mom is a bit of a neat freak and a perfectionist.”
“Those are some of her best qualities,” Edward said, raising his glass.
Lewis checked his watch and sighed. “Okay. I’m going to head inside. Shouldn’t be long.”
He squeezed my arm and then disappeared into the house, already dialing the number and conferencing in. Which left me all alone with his father, the indomitable Edward Warren.
“So, Natalie,” Edward said. He swirled his drink. “I hear that you’re a writer.”
“Yes.”
“And you have a book published.”
“I…yes. But it’s not under my name.”
He nodded. “I heard that. Olivia something. We published it.”
My mouth went dry. I hated when people knew about my pen name. But why should I be surprised the owner of the company knew? The owner whose son was dating one of their authors at least.
“That’s right.”
“Pardon me for saying, but I did a bit of research on you after you came over for dinner.”
“Uh…research?”
His eyes were still stuck on the drink in his hand, and I had the sudden feeling like he was toying with me.
“It seems like you came from nothing. Lewis said you met a year ago. But you were dating Penn Kensington at the time. When that fell through, you jumped to my son.” His eyes finally met mine. Hard as rocks and just as cold as stone. “So, what exactly are your intentions with Lewis?”
“My intentions?” I asked, still not grasping what he was getting at.
“Well, he already spent a cool million to get you,” he said casually. “What are you expecting for him to keep you?”
My eyes doubled in size, and my jaw dropped open. “What are you talking about? Lewis didn’t give me a million dollars, and I don’t want anything from him.”
“Your contract with Warren Publishing was for seven figures. You’re not naive enough to not know who pushed for that figure at auction.”
My stomach roiled. “He didn’t,” I whispered.
Edward arched his eyebrows. “Obviously, he did. He can be so trusting sometimes. But I’ve met other women like you before. And I don’t want my son tangled up with someone like that.”
My heart raced in my chest as I vaulted out of my seat. “Are you calling me a gold digger?”
“I didn’t use that word.”
“You didn’t have to!”
“Then, we’re at an understanding.” Edward slid out of his seat, graceful as a cat, and towered over me. “This is a business negotiation. How much will it take for you to get out of my son’s life?”
I balled my hands into fists. Fire coursing through me. Anger at the insinuation, at what I’d just learned, at the sheer horror of it all.
“You seriously misjudged me, Mr. Warren,” I spat at him.
He laughed. “I really don’t think that I did.”
“Fuck you,” I growled. “You can keep your goddamn money. I don’t need any of it. I was fine without it before, and I’ll be fine afterward, too.”
Natalie
28
I moved like a thunderstorm off of the balcony. Anger pulsed off of me like sheets of rain falling from the sky. I couldn’t even believe what had just happened. At the sheer audacity of Edward Warren. He had clearly orchestrated this thing so that he would have a moment alone with me. A moment to accuse me of trying to take his son’s money and then offering me more to get rid of me. I had never been more offended in my life.
And worse…was what Lewis had done. I wanted to scream. I’d worried that ending up with Warren was coincidental, but I’d told myself that they hadn’t been the first publisher to try to buy my book. I’d thought it had been won on its merit. Not Lewis’s interference. Turned out, I was wrong. I’d been stupid enough not to even ask him.
Lewis was pacing the living room when I stormed past him. “Natalie?”
I ignored him. I had no words for him. Not a single one.
“Natalie? Are you okay?” he called.
But I was reaching for my purse, slinging it over my shoulder. Then I threw my jacket on and marched toward the door.
Lewis rushed after me, and I heard him say, “I’m going to have to call you back.”
I got in the elevator and watched the doors close in his face. He jerked his hand in between the doors, stopping them from completely closing. Then he jumped into the elevator.
“Are you okay? Why are you leaving?” Lewis asked. His eyes were wide and wild with concern.
“Why don’t you ask your father?” I snapped and pressed the button for the bottom floor.
“My dad? Why? Did he do something?”
I glared at him. I felt like I was going to explode at any second, and I didn’t want it to be here in an elevator. I needed to get outside into the open air. Away from that cautious face. As if he hadn’t done anything wrong at all.
I faced forward again and crossed my arms without an answer.
“Shit. Natalie, talk to me. I don’t know what happened. So, I can’t fix it.”
“No, you can’t fix it,” I snarled.
The elevator opened at last, and I shouldered past him, through the lobby, and finally outside.
Lewis rushed after me. “Natalie, please talk to me. I don’t want you to just run out of here because you’re angry.”
“Too late.”
“Please,” he pleaded.
I ignored him and headed across Fifth Avenue, toward the entrance to Central Park.
“My driver is around the corner. I can take you home. Let me take you home.”
“I don’t want to go anywhere with you.”
Lewis huffed but followed me across the street. “You’re just going to rush out into the night without telling me what happened? This isn’t fair, Natalie.”
“Fair?” I screeched, heedless of who was around. “You want to talk about fair, Lewis? How about you convincing the publisher to pay me seven figures? How about how you were the one who told Warren to buy my book?”
He took a step back, as if I’d slapped him. “I was…helping.”
“Don’t try to spin this,” I told him. “You can’t convince me that this was somehow good for me. I wanted to do this book on my own. I wanted my debut to have success because of my writing. I didn’t need or want a leg up. Someone else would have bought it for less money, and I would have been ecstatic. But no, you had to interfere. You had to make it about you. So, talk to me about fair.”
I whipped around and started into the park. Central Park was drained of color. The winter trees empty of leaves and loomed ominously above us as I stomped through the grounds.
“I did that. I admit it. I found out that it was you, and I wanted to help. Why is helping you a bad thing?” he asked.
“If it was such a good thing, then why did you never tell me?” I snapped.<
br />
He shrugged. “It never came up.”
“Yeah, because you never brought it up. Because you knew that I wouldn’t be happy about it.”
He reached out and grabbed the sleeve of my jacket, yanking me to a stop. “Everything that I do is for you, Natalie. Everything. Maybe this was the wrong way to go about it, but I didn’t know that you’d be upset with me for doing this. I didn’t know.”
“You knew,” I accused. “Or else I wouldn’t have heard about it from your dad when he called me a gold digger. He said that you’d already handed over a cool mil and asked how much more it’d take for me to leave you alone.”
Lewis sucked in a breath. “He didn’t?”
I laughed maniacally. “Oh, he did.”
“Fuck, Natalie, I am so sorry. I know that he’s done this in the past, but I didn’t think he’d stoop to that level with you.”
“Well, excellent. Good to know I’m the one worth stooping for,” I growled.
“My last girlfriend took the money. Alicia. The one my sisters hate. I thought that he wouldn’t do that to you because I’m clearly in love with you.”
I took a step back in horror at the words. At the way he’d used them to try to get out of this argument. When I was seething and not blissfully happy. When I wasn’t ready to hear those words. Right now, it was the last thing I wanted to hear. The last thing I could even deal with.
“Well, he did. I told him to go fuck himself and that I didn’t need or want your stupid money. Because I don’t. But I did want the truth,” I told him. My features turned to stone. “And you couldn’t seem to give me that.”
“Natalie…”
“Just don’t. I’ve heard enough for one night. I wanted this on my own,” I said. I hated that my throat was tight with unshed tears. “I was so proud of my accomplishments. But you tarnished it all. So, I’m going to walk home right now. And you are going to let me.”
“Please,” he said, stepping toward me. “Please, Natalie. Don’t go like this. Don’t leave angry.”
“That is entirely your fault and not mine,” I said before I tucked my hands into my pockets and headed toward my apartment.
I thought he’d follow, even when I’d told him not to. But he didn’t.
And when I glanced back, he was gone.
I sank into a park bench, tucked my legs underneath me, covered my face, and cried. I hadn’t cried in a long time. A very long time. I hated it and how weak and vulnerable it made me feel.
But this wasn’t just about a boy. Or even his father’s accusation.
This was about the death of my one perfect moment for my book. A matter of minutes had stripped it back to its bare bones. Merit hadn’t won me that contract. It might have won me everything that came next, but now, there was a hole in it all. A black hole sucking the life out of everything that came after. I burrowed down deep, sinking into my own inadequacies. It showed me that this book was like all the others before it. Only I’d had a Warren push it through.
And I didn’t like the rancid taste of it when I saw it from that angle.
My feet dropped back onto the sidewalk. I should go home. Deal with all of this in the morning. Being alone in Central Park wasn’t my smartest move, but at the same time, I wasn’t ready to return to my sad one-bedroom. I’d go home, crack open a container of icing, and cry.
I turned my feet in the opposite direction. Back toward the Upper East Side. It was closer than continuing to the Upper West. I turned left and headed north toward the MET. Streetlights and taxicabs illuminated my way. For a Tuesday night, the traffic was insane. The traffic was always insane.
It was easier to think about the traffic than to deal with the real issues. With Lewis and his dad and my career. Just thinking of those made me want to scream.
I pulled my phone out for another distraction and almost immediately regretted it. I had two missed calls from Lewis and a text message. I clicked off of them. I didn’t want to read his apologies and excuses right now. Because I knew that was what it would be.
Maybe I’d be able to hear it when I calmed down. This moment? Not so much.
Finally, I stopped and looked around. I’d been walking for a while. I didn’t exactly know where I was. Then I looked up at the light on in the apartment at the top of the building I was in front of.
I froze, realizing exactly where I was.
My fingers pulled up the number that I’d thought about blocking more times than I could count. But never had. I hovered over it. Indecision written through me. Then, I pressed Call.
I waited three rings before a male voice answered, “Natalie?”
“Are you home?”
“Yeah,” he said tentatively. “Is everything all right?”
“Can I come up?”
“What? Right now?” he asked, flummoxed.
“Yeah. I’m…I’m downstairs.”
“Uh…yeah. Come on up.”
“Thanks,” I muttered. “See you in a minute.”
“Natalie, are you sure you’re all right?”
“No, no, I’m not.”
Then, I hung up the phone and walked into the building to take the elevator up to Penn’s apartment.
Natalie
29
I should have been nervous, but somehow, I wasn’t. Not with Penn. He’d put me through the wringer, but being around him had always been so easy. Even back when we’d first met in Paris.
The elevator opened to his apartment, and I waited for the memories to assault me. But, before I could even process them, a small Italian greyhound bounded off the couch and vaulted straight at me.
Totle.
He knocked me so far off-balance that I actually tumbled backward. He just figured it was easier to smother me with kisses that way. His thin body pressed against me, and he wagged not just his tail, but also his entire body. His unbelievably long legs for a ten-pound dog tried to find purchase in my arms, and his wet nose brushed my cheek. He barked at me once, and then he was licking my face as if not a day had passed since I lived with him.
Tears welled in my eyes. Fuck, I was emotional. But I really hadn’t realized how much I had missed him. Maybe all I needed was puppy therapy. I snuggled him tight against me.
“Hey, buddy. Oh, look how big you’ve gotten.” He kissed me more. “Yes, I do love you. I know. I missed you so much. It’s okay. I’m back.”
Then a hand came and pressed into the elevator to keep the doors from closing on us. Penn leaned into the chamber, looking perfectly disheveled. His dark hair looked as if he’d been running his fingers through it. Stubble grew in along his jawline. And he was out of his typical suit and instead barefoot in black running pants and a T-shirt. Somehow, he still looked hot as sin.
“Did you come here to abduct my dog?” he drawled.
“I’m considering it. He clearly loves me more than you.”
“He’s kind of a whore actually. He gives his affection a bit too freely.”
“Don’t listen to him,” I told Totle. “Your love is the best kind. Unconditional. You’d never break my heart, would you?”
Totle wagged his tail and licked me from chin to forehead.
I laughed and wiped my face. “That’s what I thought.”
“You going to come in or just hang out in the elevator?”
“I guess…I’ll come in.”
I stood from my seat, scooping up Totle in my arms as I entered Penn’s apartment. It looked exactly as I remembered. A slight mess from all his work cluttering the space. His worn leather notebook open on the table. A glass of bourbon next to it. Indie music filtering through the speakers. His signature obscure artist. It looked and smelled and felt just like a year ago.
Penn moved to the table and cleared all of his papers into some semblance of a pile. He closed the notebook with a snap. All those philosophical musings buried away. “Sorry about the mess.”
“It’s not messy,” I told him.
He shrugged and stepped around the couch toward
the kitchen. I kissed Totle’s head and then set him down on top of a blanket. He curled into a ball and plopped down.
“What’s this song? I like it.”
Glasses clinked together.
“‘Not Over’ by Cole Massey.”
“It’s good.”
“Yeah. Mournful. The whole playlist is.”
He stepped back around the island and had two glasses in his hands. “Here.” He offered me the liquid. “You look like you could use that.”
I took it in my hands but just stared down at it without taking a sip. I needed to say something. To explain why I was here or what had happened. But I didn’t know where to begin or really what I’d expected to get out of coming up here.
“You think this is a good idea?” he asked after the silence had stretched as thin as paper.
“Me being here?” I asked. “Probably not.”
He nodded thoughtfully. “Why exactly are you here?”
“Do you want me to go?” I tipped my head up to judge his words.
He didn’t look like that was what he was saying, but he’d stepped back into the relative safety of the kitchen. “No.”
The word hung between us. No explanation needed.
“But I thought you’d made yourself clear at the club. So, I’m surprised to find you in my apartment.”
I dropped my head backward on the couch and stared up at the ceiling. “I really don’t know what I’m doing here. I just started walking. I couldn’t go home. Then I saw your light on. And…I don’t know.”
He waited for me to elaborate. I didn’t.
“You feel safe with me,” he said. A statement, not a question.
Despite all the shit he’d done to me. And how much I was mad at him for making that stupid bet. And the year of silence. And, and, and…the list went on. No matter what we’d gone through, I did feel like this was a safe place. That he wouldn’t turn me away or push me. I didn’t know what that said about how I felt about him that I could be so angry with him that I was seeing red but still feel safe with him. That I didn’t trust him, and yet…I trusted him. It was irrational and hurt my head too much in the moment to put it all together.
