As he watched her sway up the hallway, Nate realized no tactic had helped him cope with his growing love. Stuffing all signs of Amanda into a closet hadn’t worked. Keeping his distance hadn’t worked. And the very idea that he could go back to their old patterns and find some relief for his torment now struck him as sickeningly hilarious.
No matter what I do, I’m falling deeper in love, he thought, and decided the time had come to consult an expert. Gordon had been married fifteen years, and he and Amanda’s sister were happier than any married couple Nate had ever known. The man just might be able to offer some advice.
Amanda stopped near the end of the hallway and looked over her shoulder. “Are you coming?” she asked and walked back to his side.
“I guess,” Nate drawled and acted a thousand times more carefree than he felt.
Amanda looped her arm through his and pulled. “Come on, Grandpa,” she urged with a saucy cadence. “We’ll never make it back to the party at this rate.”
“Well, you know I’m ten years older than you,” he teased. “I’m not as young as I used to be. Not the man I used to be,” he added in a piteous voice.
“Yeah, right,” Amanda grumbled, “tell that to Sonja Eldridge, the whole Singles Department at church, and nearly every other woman in Tasmania.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Nate asked and prayed for some sign of feminine appreciation in her eyes.
“Don’t play ignorant with me, Nate Knighton.” Amanda barely pinched his cheek and offered no sign that she was among the group of Tasmanian women who appreciated his masculinity. “This is me you’re talking to. Just because I’m like your little sister, doesn’t mean I don’t have eyes. I see more than you think I see.”
As they moved toward the lobby, Nate’s hopes plummeted, and he knew that trip to Brisbane was his sole ticket to sanity. Gordon would know what to do. Even if it meant relocating, Nate was ready to put an end to this agony.
Franklyn West appeared near the lobby’s entry. “There you are, Amanda!” he said. “I’ve been looking for you.” He gazed past her. “And where’s Haley? Is she okay?”
“Haley’s going to be fine,” Amanda said and looked at Nate. “Franklyn saw everything and heard me ask Sonja and Mason to leave.”
“She was good,” Franklyn bragged. “I don’t know how many people would have had the courage to handle that whole situation as well as she did.”
“I’m sure she was remarkable, as usual,” Nate mumbled. He stepped toward the party and kept on walking. He didn’t have the courage to watch Franklyn and Amanda charm one another. He spotted Mr. Adair and decided to focus on Goldie the rest of the evening.
“Nate?” Amanda called. He turned to see her trotting after him.
He also spotted Haley near the entry with Franklyn smiling down at her. Now that her makeup was repaired, she didn’t look as if she’d cried in years. And none of it was wasted on Franklyn. Hiding a frown, Nate knew Roger would not be happy.
“She looks great, doesn’t she?” Amanda said.
Nate swung his attention back to Amanda. “Yep. At least Franklyn seems to think so.”
“They look good together, don’t you think?”
Nate shrugged. “As pretty as Haley is these days, she’d look good with just about anybody.”
“I agree,” Amanda replied, then hesitated. “I hate to be a pest, Nate, but please don’t forget what you said about talking with the three management candidates. Daddy and Angie are doing the same.” She nodded toward her father, interacting with a tall blonde female and Angie, talking to an overweight young man with a keen eye.
“At this point, I’m so confused over which one to hire, I’d like to hire all three.”
Nate chuckled. “What if I think the same thing?”
“Don’t do that!” Amanda admonished.
“Okay, point out the other one, and I’ll see what I can do.”
By ten o’clock Amanda declared the annual event a huge success. As usual she’d ended the evening by discreetly handing out annual bonuses to all twelve managers who helped maintain Wood-Priebe International at the multimillion-dollar level. On top of that, her father, Nate, and Angie had all agreed upon the best replacement for Ken-the-working-machine. And success had compounded on top of success when Franklyn and Haley spent the rest of the evening in each other’s company.
This might be one match I don’t even have to work for, Amanda thought as she observed Franklyn walking Haley toward the exit.
Haley waved good-bye and called over her shoulder, “Franklyn’s giving me a lift home.”
“Good!” Amanda replied and recalled Haley’s mentioning her car was in the shop. She turned toward Nate, who was approaching with the Adairs. His frown was all for Haley and Franklyn, and Amanda wondered why. Then Amanda remembered Nate glowering at Franklyn and Haley several times during the last half of the party.
Amanda’s mind so churned with possible motivations, she was hard-pressed to focus on what Nate was saying. Finally she forced herself to absorb his words.
“I’m going to walk Mr. and Mrs. Adair home,” he explained as the couple paused near the agency’s exit. “Are you about to leave?”
“Well . . .” Grappling for the reason for Nate’s question, Amanda looked toward the room, once full of a lively party. Only the band now remained, and they were packing up their equipment.
“I’ll certainly be here until the band leaves. But I’m not going to stay here until midnight trying to clean up,” she said in case Nate was on the verge of delivering a brotherly lecture about how she should get plenty of rest. “I’m going home and leaving this mess until tomorrow. Betty and Haley and I are coming back to clean house in the morning.”
Amanda wiggled her toes and looked down at the new suede boots that so perfectly matched her outfit. Much to Haley’s exasperation, Amanda hadn’t found them on sale.
“My feet are killing me,” she admitted with a tired smile.
“Sit down then,” Nate said and motioned toward the row of tables and chairs near the window. “I want to talk with you for a few minutes. Do you mind staying?”
“Not at all,” Amanda agreed. “I think I’ll go to my office and take these boots off.” She lifted one foot and angled it to give Nate a clear view of the heel. “I’ve got a pair of flats in my office I’d rather wear home.”
Nate winced. “I don’t know why you women insist on such torture.”
“It’s fashion. It’s the rules.” She wiggled her eyebrows, nodded, and took in the Adairs in her antics.
“We’re fine walking ourselves home,” Mrs. Adair interjected.
“Yes, we are!” Samuel bragged. “If Goldie loses her edge, I’ve got a beautiful backup.” He slid his arm around his wife’s shoulders and mumbled something into her ear.
Her expression sharpened.
“Are you sure?” Nate asked.
“It’s just across the street,” Mrs. Adair quickly added as the two hustled out the doorway. “Samuel roams the street by himself all the time. We’re fine. Really. G’day,” she called, and the door closed before Nate had time to object.
Amanda wondered exactly what Mr. Adair had said to his wife. She’d gone from casually waiting to urgently exiting.
“Think they’ll be all right?” Nate asked and stepped toward the doorway.
“Sure.” Amanda waved toward the street. “It’s not like they’re in their nineties. This is a good neighborhood, and the street is well-lit. Besides, I’m wondering if they weren’t up to something anyway. Whatever Mr. Adair said to her, it changed everything and she was ready to fly. Did you notice?”
“Yes, I noticed,” Nate mumbled with a knowing undertone to his voice.
Amanda studied him but gained no insight into his thoughts.
Her aching feet insisted she shouldn’t care. Amanda walked past Nate and trudged toward her office. “I’m going to change shoes so I can think better,” she said. “You know my brain’s in my big toe.
”
Nate followed close behind. “I guess it could be worse,” he drawled.
Amanda narrowed her eyes and debated whether or not to even take the bait. But in the end, she couldn’t resist. “Why do you say that?”
“It could be in your little toe.”
“Like yours, for instance?” she shot back.
His laugh was as rewarding as Amanda expected.
Thirty
Nate followed Amanda into her office and waited while she slipped out of the boots.
“Oooohhhhh,” she moaned and closed her eyes as her feet flattened against the tile. “That feels so much better.” Amanda eyed the couch. She kicked the boots out of the way, walked to the sofa, and dropped into the corner.
“I don’t think I’m going to make it home right now.” She stretched her feet along the cushions and rested her head on the back of the couch. “I might just take a nap right here. It’s been a long day,” she added through a yawn.
Noticing the dark circles under her eyes, Nate’s love was moved to action. He gave in to an impulse he didn’t bother to question. Sitting on the other end of the couch, he took her feet in his lap.
She lifted her head and looked at him. “What are you doing?” she asked.
“I’m going to give you a foot massage,” Nate replied with as much emotion as someone reciting a grocery list.
“Oh!” Amanda said and blinked.
Never taking his gaze from hers, Nate pressed his thumb in the middle of her foot and began to knead. “Does that help?”
Amanda closed her eyes and sighed. “Extremely,” she breathed.
Nate concentrated on her toes next and kept his mind focused on the task at hand. “I actually didn’t come in here for this,” he mused when he switched to her other foot.
“Who cares,” Amanda said. “I would pay you to do this every day.”
You don’t have to pay me, Amanda, Nate thought. Just say you’ll marry me, and I’ll give you free foot massages for life.
“Where did you learn how to do this?” She lifted her head and suspiciously scrutinized him.
“Beats me.” Nate smiled. “This is my first time.”
Her gaze softened. She flopped her head back against the couch and said, “You’re a natural.”
“Actually, I was thinking my turn would be next.”
“No way!” Amanda pulled her feet out of his grasp. “I’m not rubbing your stinky feet.”
“Get back here,” Nate drawled and coaxed her feet into his grasp. “I was just joking. But just for the record, my feet do not stink. They smell like roses.”
“Humph,” Amanda replied.
“Now she’s started ‘humphing’ me,” Nate complained. “First, she criticizes my rosy toes, then she ‘humphs’ me. What’s next?” He felt Amanda looking at him and leveled a smile at her he hoped made her remember him when he was in Brisbane.
“You’re terribly chipper, aren’t you?” she said. “What was in all the club soda you were drinking, anyway?”
“Clubs, I guess,” Nate quipped.
Amanda giggled and wiggled her toes. “That’s feeling so much better.”
“If you don’t stop wearing those spikes, you’re going to have a whopper of a podiatrist bill when you’re sixty,” Nate predicted and offered the final rub.
“Yes, Father,” she mocked.
“I’m not your father,” Nate growled and released her feet. Neither am I your brother, he thought.
“No, you aren’t,” Amanda said and gazed at him with a lazy droop to her eyes that Nate nearly interpreted as an invitation.
Then he just as quickly talked himself out of the impression. Gordon . . . I’ve got to talk to Gordon, he admonished himself and stood.
“Actually, I just wanted to let you know that I’m going to be gone for a while—a week or so,” he said.
“Gone?” Amanda swung her feet to the floor and looked up at him. “B-but where?” She stood, clenched her fists, and licked her lips.
“Actually, I’m—”
“No! Don’t tell me.” She covered her ears, closed her eyes, and swallowed hard.
Laughing, Nate stepped closer, pulled her hands away from her ears, and whispered, “I’m going to visit Gordon and Beverly.”
Amanda’s eyes popped open and she said, “Oh.”
“What did you think I was going to do? Disappear from the planet?”
“No, I thought you were going to get—” She swiveled toward the closet, and her skirt swirled with the movement. “Never mind,” Amanda said and opened the closet. She stooped, retrieved a pair of loafers, and slipped her feet into them.
“Going to get what?” Nate pressed.
“Nothing,” Amanda said and picked up her boots.
“Going to get a new car . . . a new house . . . a different position . . . what?” Nate waited for her answer as he further brainstormed.
“Just never mind!” she insisted.
Finally a word popped into his mind, and it was the only word that made sense with her reaction. He laughed out loud. “Did you think I was going to say I was getting married?” he blurted.
Her head lowered, Amanda stepped to her desk, pulled out the bottom drawer, and extracted her purse. “I never said that!” she snapped.
“No, you didn’t,” Nate agreed and couldn’t deny the warmth that spread through him.
“But you told me about—about some mystery woman at Angie’s Christmas party,” she blurted. “What was I supposed to think?”
Nate crossed his arms and gleefully challenged her. “You’re jealous!” he exclaimed like he’d just won a million bucks.
Her mouth fell open. “I am not! That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard in my life.” She strode toward the door with her boots in one hand and her purse in the other. Amanda opened the door and turned to face him. “No, it’s not the most ridiculous thing . . . it’s the most arrogant thing! Why in the world would I be jealous?”
Nate laughed out loud and didn’t even try to find logic in his reaction. If she really wasn’t jealous and she really did think he was ridiculous and arrogant, then he should be crying.
She stomped. “I already told you, Nate Knighton, I don’t like it when you laugh when you’re not supposed to.”
“And who’s the judge on when I’m not supposed to?” he parried and lifted his chin.
Her face reddened, she glared at him a full five seconds, then stormed from the room.
Nate turned off the light, closed the door, and followed at a distance. He planned to stay until the band departed. Then he’d help Amanda lock up. He didn’t like the idea of leaving a beautiful woman alone with several men and the necessity of walking to the shadowed parking lot—especially not when she was the woman he loved.
Fortunately the wait wasn’t a long one. The band was just hauling their final cases out the door when he and Amanda exited the hallway. “G’night, and thanks!” Amanda called.
“Call us if you need us again,” the bushy-haired saxophonist said.
“I will,” Amanda replied and switched off the light in the oversized lobby.
As they exited the agency and stepped into the cool night, Amanda didn’t look at him. She didn’t talk to him. She didn’t even acknowledge his presence. Still, Nate followed her toward the parking lot. After the band’s van exited, the only two vehicles left were a red Mercedes and a sporty white BMW.
“Sorry I made you mad,” he mumbled as she stopped near the BMW.
Finally Amanda looked at him. The parking lot lights cast an inviting glow upon her hair, and Nate came within a breath of telling her exactly how beautiful she was. Only the fear of her rejection stopped him.
I’m a coward, he lambasted himself, but he possessed no means to overcome the problem. If Amanda were a new friend and this whole progression of love had happened in a normal vein, if she’d give him any hint that she might even think of him as a potential love, Nate would know how to handle the situation. But n
one of that was how his love for Amanda had progressed. Instead, it had sneaked up on him after years of friendship. Now he was still seeing nothing but the same friendship he’d depended upon in Amanda.
“Do you want the truth?” Amanda asked.
“No,” Nate stated with a smile. “Why would I ever want the truth?”
She adjusted her purse strap on her shoulder and narrowed one eye in a sarcastic squint. “The truth is, I think I am a little jealous.”
“Oh?” Nate said and held his breath in hopes of more.
“Yes. It’s like I’m an eighth-grader and my big brother is going off to college,” she explained. “In a lot of ways, I guess I feel like you’re abandoning me. I mean, you’ve always been there, Nate. Now she’s in the picture.”
His face went cold and stiff. “Yeah,” he mumbled and searched for anything else to say. Nothing came.
“Well, she’s in your picture,” Amanda amended. “But I still haven’t met her. I guess we need to arrange for that when you get back.” She hung her head with a resigned weariness.
The hum of traffic attested to the highway just meters away. The cool wind stirred the oaks lining the parking lot, and Nate begged God to give him something to say. Nothing verbal came—only the need to communicate with Amanda in a way he never had. Nate wrapped his arms around her and gently hugged. He was reminded once again of the Paris sunset, of the months he’d loved her, of the years his love had taken root.
When she didn’t pull away, he dared to smell her hair and relished the softness against his lips. “I guess our relationship has been changing for a while,” he mumbled. “It’s been stressful for me, too.” Nate closed his eyes and savored her warmth. “Sometimes, though, the death of one relationship has to happen so another can be born.”
He held his breath and waited for her to respond to the well-placed hint. After several seconds, she offered no reply. Nate inched away and looked into her face. All he saw in the shadows was confusion laced with anxiety and exhaustion. Nate sighed and stepped away.
Amanda_A Contemporary Retelling of Emma Page 22
