“Thank you,” I breathed out, unsteady.
He tightened his hold on my hand. “That’s what friends are for.”
Yes. We were friends. I dropped his hand.
He let out a heavy breath. “Follow me.”
That was my plan for the day. My heart beat hard, and not from the climb or maneuvering to the other side of the ship. It was all Nick.
Nick showed us the only bullet hole on the entire ship, and he informed us it was from the ship’s own gun.
We wound around and made our way back down so we could reach the lower decks. It was amazing to me that over two thousand men lived on this ship, especially as we descended into the depths of it. I’d been on a cruise before, and this ship was nowhere near as spacious. Every bit of space was used. It kind of freaked me out how close some of the artillery was kept to the engine room and where they all slept. And was I ever grateful for having my own room after seeing their living conditions. Beds stacked four high and lined against walls in cramped quarters. Privacy was nonexistent. Even the officers’ bedrooms were tiny. The captain had the largest room, and even that was small, but at least he was by himself.
Then we got to the sick bay. I knew right away this is what Nick came for. Nick looked around to see if anyone was near before he lifted his shades. His blue eyes looked alive.
“Look at this.” He pointed to an X-ray machine. “This was a fully functioning hospital. They performed everything from tonsillectomies to appendectomies here and brought sailors from smaller ships to receive treatment here.”
I took it all in, from the hospital beds to the creepy looking dispensary with replica “drugs” of the day in different bottles. It looked like a chem lab for an evil scientist. That had nothing on the surgical instruments.
“It’s amazing anyone survived back then,” I commented.
“They did things down and dirty,” Nick replied.
I shook off the thought of having to be treated in such a place. “What is your interest here?”
Nick wagged his eyebrows before putting his shades back on; more tourists were upon us. “It lends a certain air of mystery, don’t you think?”
“Are you writing a mystery?” I whispered.
“What do you think?” he mouthed.
“I think you are teasing me.”
“I think you’re right.” He dazzled me with his half smile.
Meanwhile, Skye was snapping pictures of everything and saying things like, “Ew,” and “OMG.” That pretty much summed up the sick bay for me.
I did take a cue from Skye, and while Nick was reading one of the placards, I snapped a picture of him with my phone. For posterity’s sake. This way, one day I could prove that I was friends with him, you know, in case this new movie of his won an Oscar or something. I could say I was there when he was doing his research for it.
Nick waved me toward the recovery area. “Do you know how they treated mental illness in this time period?”
I gave another shudder. “Yes, and some of it wasn’t pretty. They used psychosurgery, where they would cut out what they thought were the malfunctioning parts of the brain. Or sometimes they would disconnect the frontal lobe or use shock therapy. The cure was worse than the disease. But a lot of good did come out of that time period, especially after the war. They started taking mental health more seriously. I think it was 1946 when they passed the National Mental Health Act.”
Nick looked at me in awe. “You are smart and beautiful. A lethal combination.”
I bit my lip. “I love what I do.”
“Do you ever think you will go back to private practice?”
“Maybe. If the right opportunity presented itself. But I feel like I’m doing something important where I’m at.”
He tilted his head. “Helping people find love using technology?”
“I suppose, but I think that’s only part of it. We allow people to take a step back and evaluate themselves. To see what they’ve been missing or what’s really important,” I added.
“And what about you?”
“What about me?”
“Have you ever stepped back and reevaluated your rules?”
I swallowed hard and rubbed the back of my neck. “You love to throw those kinds of questions at me, don’t you?”
“I love it more when you answer.”
“It’s complicated, Nick.”
“Your rules are definitely complex and . . . I would say, unrealistic.”
I turned and looked at one of the operating tables. “I’m just trying to prevent any past events.” I didn’t have to spell out which one.
“And, I would say, any future relationships.”
“Probably,” I admitted, refusing to look at him.
He ran a finger lightly down my arm, blazing a trail of sparks. “Is that what you really want?”
I shook my head.
“Kate.” His voice lured me to look his way.
I turned to him to see myself reflected in his aviator lenses. In them, I saw my own confusion staring right back at me.
He leaned in, dangerously close. I could smell the hazelnut coffee we had drunk on our way down.
I wouldn’t mind getting a second taste of that.
“Maybe it’s time to change the rules,” he spoke intimately between us.
I wanted to break each one right there and close the small gap between us.
Thank goodness for Skye.
“Can we go yet? I can’t text my friends down here.” Which translated into Liam.
I jumped away and tried to shake off what just happened. At this rate, I was going to get fired. Or worse, break every rule.
Chapter Thirty-Four
“Petra is a no.”
“What?” I stared at my phone on speaker, wanting to bang my head on my desk. Then I noticed the time. He was supposed to have met her at noon for lunch and it was only 2:00 p.m. That was shorter than his date with Thea last week.
“Nick, you’re making me look bad. This is the third woman in almost four weeks, and you haven’t even tried to go out on a second date with any of them.”
“Why bother when I know it’s not going anywhere?”
“You’re not giving them a fair chance. What was wrong with Petra? She’s brilliant and gorgeous.”
“Kate,” he sighed. “I told you I’m not looking for anything serious with these women. And not one of these women have matched my profile.”
“And you’re welcome for that.”
He groaned. “I know your reasoning and I appreciate your concern for Skye and myself, but will you just trust me?”
“Absolutely not. You’re going to end up with Angie the stripper if I do that, and I won’t let that happen to Skye . . . or you.”
“Take a breath, Kate.”
I inhaled deeply and blew it out. “Please give Petra another try.”
“No.”
I rubbed my face in my hands. “Fine, you can have Angie the stripper, because I’m leaving for LA on Sunday for my conference and I don’t have time to keep looking for the perfect match for you on top of interviewing all your undying fans who want to be ‘your last first kiss’ who have been filing in here since that stupid commercial aired a couple of days ago. And I’m tired of my colleagues questioning my judgment. But I warn you, Angie is not stepmother material. And I will not have a post consultation interview with you about it, so don’t even ask. You can do whatever it is you apparently want to do with the women who match your profile.”
My stomach hurt thinking about it. I popped a peppermint candy.
“Are you finished?”
My head dropped to my desk. “Yes,” I croaked into the phone.
“Kate,” he paused, “I didn’t have any physical relations with Thea or Petra, in case you were wondering, not even a kiss, although they were angling for it.” He sounded pretty cocky there at the end.
My stomach felt better. “You’re free to do whatever you want with whomever you want.” My insides tw
isted with that statement.
“If only that were true . . . maybe someday.”
I raised my head. “What does that mean?”
He sighed. “Can we just forget about your job for now? The main reason I called you was to tell you that I’m heading back home this weekend for several days.”
I sat up straight. “To Laguna Beach?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“My partner, Simon, and I have decided my screenplay has the potential to attract big money and a bigger studio. We were going to front the cost at first, but some things have changed, and we’ve been able to score a couple of meetings with some big studio execs.”
I wondered what had changed, but didn’t ask since he’d been so tight-lipped about his project. “That’s fantastic. Congratulations.”
“Thanks. That said, I’ve been distracted here and haven’t gotten in as much writing as I thought I would have. I need to go into my writing cave so I have something solid to present.”
Guilt seeped in thinking about the past few weeks and all the time he’d spent helping my parents, not to mention all the nights we had spent hanging out, like last night at the theater. Nick arranged for me to finally get my Bogie and Bacall marathon. We had the theater to ourselves, Skye and Liam included.
Poor Skye had been lamenting over text today how Liam still hadn’t held her hand. There was no way that was happening last night since Nick and I sat behind the two. Nick watched every move the kid made.
“You should have said something. We didn’t need to hang out.”
“I don’t regret any time spent with you.”
When he said things like that I wanted to break all the rules, even the one at my job that precluded me pursuing him. But reason prevailed, not my ovaries. We were now on the second cycle with him. They were screaming louder than ever. It was probably a good thing he was leaving.
“I wish you safe travels and happy writing thoughts.”
“I don’t leave until Saturday. You’re still coming to the performance on Friday night, right?” He sounded worried.
“Yes, if you still want me to. And my parents would probably kill me if I didn’t. They are excited to see your students in action.”
I was too. His students were each performing the monologues they had crafted during Nick’s classes. It was a graduation of sorts.
“I want you there, Kate.”
“I’ll see you Friday, then. I better get back to work. I have more sycophants, I mean clients, to interview.”
A small chuckle escaped him. “Have fun with that.”
“Goodbye.”
“Kate, hold on.”
I paused and held oddly still.
“You know, I’ll probably have meetings in LA when you’re there. When does your conference run again?”
“Um . . . Monday through Thursday, but I’m staying until Sunday to do some sightseeing.”
“I’ll work something out.”
“I don’t want to interrupt—”
“You won’t.”
“Let’s just see how it goes.” I wasn’t going to lie, I was hoping I would meet someone there, someone else in my field who matched all my dating criteria. Someone who would help me get a grip on reality. And the reality was I didn’t belong with the handsome celebrity. How could I?
“I’ll make the time. Goodbye.” He hung up before I could say a word.
I stared at the phone, wondering why all of the sudden two days seemed like a long time before I would see him.
~*~
Bringing my parents out in public, or at least my mom, was probably the worst idea ever. Especially since Nick was involved. I had to search her for notebooks or any of my other old belongings before we left their house. And I couldn’t technically uninvite them since Nick was the one who had extended the invitation. Mom was all in a dither and brought out her sequined jumpsuit that I was sure came from the seventies. Dad was looking sharp in a dress shirt and slacks and back to his old self, including a nice, clean-cut haircut for his thinning hair. They were cute, holding hands to my right in the auditorium that was beginning to fill with family and friends of Nick’s students.
I owed that scene to Nick. I prayed, though, they stayed cute and quiet. Mom, all the way over in the car, was going on and on about my aura and how I was glowing. And she had it on good authority from her crystals that Nick was indeed virile and would father her grandchildren. I begged her not to mention that to anyone. Especially everyone to the left of me. Skye was right next to me, followed by Liam, his mom, Janelle, a happy client of Binary Search from what I’d heard, and then her two youngest children. Janelle and I kept giving each other knowing glances while observing the teenagers between us.
I had told Skye to play it cool tonight. Not hard to get, but only friendly. Poor thing was waiting for Liam to ask her on a real date with no parents or me involved. Though she must have liked me because she leaned her head on my shoulder.
“Do you think Kieran will get his powers to shapeshift back in the next book?” she asked me. We had finished the first book in the series and it was a cliffhanger ending.
“Probably, but I bet it won’t be until the end,” I responded.
“I hate that Kieran and Elondra broke up.”
“Yeah, that probably won’t resolve itself for a while either.”
“Why can’t she just trust that he wants her, and not because they were bound by a legend?”
I thought for a minute. My first instinct was to say it added tension and kept you turning the page, but then I thought better of it.
“I can’t say I blame her. Her parents lied to her about who she really was, and the man she was betrothed to before she met Kieran was a cold-blooded killer. Makes it kind of hard to trust someone.”
“Yeah, but Kieran really loves her. He gave up his powers to save her.”
“But she doesn’t know that yet.”
She sighed wistfully.
I kissed the top of her head. “It will all work out. I believe a happily ever after is on the horizon.”
“Me too.” My mom joined the conversation and patted my hand.
I turned toward my mom and gave her my please-don’t-say-another-word eyes. It didn’t work.
She smiled as wide as the Grand Canyon when she realized Skye’s head was on my shoulder.
“Skye,” she said ever so sweetly. “I’m so happy you and my daughter are friends.”
Skye sat up straight. “Me too.”
That would have been a good place to end, but that was wishful thinking.
“I hope we can be friends too, maybe even more than friends someday.” Mom winked at her like she was being covert.
Skye looked at me confused.
“Mom, please,” I begged.
She was about to respond, but we were saved by Nan and Jack arriving.
Jack had his arm around Nan, who was dressed to the nines in a smart-looking pant suit. She was beaming by Jack’s side. Jack was smiling like he was the luckiest man in the room.
We all stood up and stepped into the aisle to greet them. I introduced my parents.
“Jack and Nan, these are my parents, Stella and Glenn Morgan.”
Jack wrapped me up in his arms. “Darlin’, how are you?”
“Doing well. Looks like you are as well.”
He released me, and his smile said it all. He was doing more than fine. “I keep telling Nick he needs to bring you around again. But I can’t say I blame him for wanting to keep you all to himself.”
Oh, that was the worst thing that could have been said. Nan and my mom glommed onto that statement and each other like a child to candy. It was as if they were instant bosom buddies attached at the hip with conspiracy theories dancing in their hopeful eyes. The men were smart and dispersed, Jack to greet his granddaughter and Janelle’s family and Dad back to his seat, leaving me to the pair of hungry wannabe grandmothers.
I was going to follow Dad and Jack, but Nan and
Mom sucked me in like a Hoover. Both their industrial strength hoses—I mean hands—were on me and not letting go.
Nan took the lead. “Sugar, I keep telling everyone I don’t care what they say; there is something between you two, or there ought to be.”
“Thank you!” Mom said, vindicated. She waved her free hand all over me. “Can you see the sexual tension oozing off her?”
Did we have to use the words sexual tension in public? Thankfully we were toward the back so the moms and dads of performers could have seats up close. I had no words. And the harder I tugged away from them, the firmer their grips became.
Nan looked me over. “You’re right. It’s palpable.”
That was it. “We are—”
“Let me guess,” Nan laughed patronizingly, “just friends. I’ve heard it from Kenadie and Meg. And look where they are now. Y’all just need to listen to the mommas—we know a thing or two.”
“Amen.” My mom somehow gained a Southern accent all of a sudden.
I almost dropped down on my knees and gave praise when the lights lowered, signaling it was showtime. Even better, Nan and Jack sat in front of us, separating the troublesome women temporarily.
The man causing all the drama in my life walked out onto the stage to loud applause. The stage loved him, as did his clothes. Even from a distance, it was easy to see how perfectly snug his dress shirt and jeans fit him. His fine beard was back already, and I think I decided I liked the stubble over the clean-shaven.
Mom squeezed my hand like him gracing us with his presence should be significant for me. I was doing my best to feel like it meant nothing. I wasn’t doing a good job. Feelings of being proud of him arose as he spoke about the journey he had taken with these kids and how much they had grown. And when I looked over at Skye, thoughts of wishing the three of us were more than friends filled me. I knew I would miss their presence when they left tomorrow. Almost as if a piece of me were leaving.
I shook my head. Those were crazy thoughts.
The performances were a semi-good distraction, albeit a little depressing. A couple of the monologues dealt with death, one with divorce, and one with infidelity. Thankfully, most of them were comedic in nature. There was quite of bit of talent up on the stage, and I wasn’t talking about Nick.
Narcissistic Tendencies (Dating by Design Book 3) Page 24
