Blair’s brows go up. “You do?”
“I do. So please, let me buy you a coffee.”
“I don’t know.” Blair mulls this over, suspicious of Fiona’s intentions. “You’ve been a terrible guest, and I think I’ve been more than generous.”
“Very generous. That’s why I want to apologize.”
“Any sane person would have thrown you out by now.”
“It’s true!”
“I should probably still throw you out.”
“Please, don’t. Not yet. Let me try and make it up to you first.” Fiona’s expression is so sincere that, against her better judgement, Blair finds herself agreeing to go have coffee.
They drive Isadora to La Dolce Vita. Blair has a couple of cake sketches she wants to grab anyway, as a few new ideas have come to her about an upcoming wedding.
“This is your bakery?” Fiona questions with wide eyes.
“Yes, it is. My business partner, Natalie, and I own it.” She glares at Fiona, almost daring her to say something rude, but Fiona only nods, looking around with interest.
It’s early morning and busy, since they just opened. Blair tells Fiona to have a seat, and she’ll be right out. In the kitchen, she says hello to everyone and grabs the sketches she needs, especially the ones for Kiki’s cake. She talks to Natalie briefly, who seems amused Blair brought Fiona with her.
“The Wicked Witch is here? I may have to come out and say hello.”
Blair gives a dry laugh. “You should definitely come experience her for yourself.”
When Blair goes back out front, she sees Fiona has found a window seat and has already ordered a coffee for each of them.
“Did you actually pay for those?” Blair asks. She knows from Nathan that Fiona avoids paying for anything whenever possible.
Fiona picks up her drink. “Of course. I told you I wanted to buy you a coffee.”
“I was really more interested in the apology.”
Fiona sips her drink then appears stunned. “My God, this coffee is perfection.”
Blair can’t help her grin. “I’ll tell Carlos you said so.”
“No, you won’t. I’ll tell him myself. A talented barista is a gift.” Fiona smiles, but then her eyes narrow as she considers Blair. “I must admit, you’re more successful than I imagined.”
Blair snorts softly. “I know that’s supposed to be a compliment, but why does it feel like an insult?”
Fiona smirks.
“So, are you really going to apologize to me?” She studies Fiona. In the window’s natural light, there are a few faint lines near Fiona’s eyes, though she still doesn’t look forty.
Fiona leans forward and lowers her voice. “Why is it you don’t comprehend the huge favor I’ve been doing for you?”
“Favor? I don’t think so.”
“Nathan’s in your bed, isn’t he?”
Blair stops swirling the straw for her iced latte.
“Do you honestly think he’d be there if I hadn’t intervened?”
Blair reflects on this and isn’t entirely sure of the answer. Would he be in my bed? Obviously, it’s one of the reasons she never kicked Fiona out.
“So, is Nathan in love with you yet?”
Blair doesn’t say anything.
“What exactly is going on?”
“None of your business, that’s what.”
“Why not tell me? I’m a surprisingly good listener.”
“I find that doubtful.”
Fiona tilts her head a little. “Try me.”
Blair looks into Fiona’s blue eyes, thinks back to what happened in the shower with Nathan, and then the way he left without kissing her goodbye. The way he treats her like a friend. A strange desperation grips her.
It’s not like there’s anyone else I can confide in about this.
She can’t tell Tori, since she’s not going to want to hear about her brother’s sex life—plus, understandably, her loyalties are divided. And despite her friendship with Natalie, she’s not sure if she wants to tell her either, since she’d then have to explain the whole pitiful history.
And I don’t want anyone to know how pitiful I am.
But after hearing Fiona cry on the phone every night, begging Sachi to take her back, one thing is abundantly clear.
Fiona knows all about pitiful.
So Blair lowers her voice and tells Fiona. Not every detail, but enough to understand the problem.
Surprisingly, Fiona leans in and listens carefully as Blair explains the situation. She doesn’t respond right away, just considers things.
“So, he’s still talking to Sonia.” Fiona picks up her coffee.
“Who’s that?”
“The Spanish girlfriend.”
“Have you met her?”
“No, but from everything I’ve heard, you’re lucky I’m here to help you with all this.”
“Why?”
“Because you need me.” Fiona speaks earnestly. “Believe it or not, I used to be a real bitch.”
“Used to be?” Blair can’t stop her laughter.
“I’ve mellowed considerably.”
“Really?”
“Yes, I’ve mellowed since I fell in love.” Fiona’s voice quivers a little on the word love.
“I’m afraid to think of what you were like before.”
“Quite the terror.”
“How’s it going, anyway?” Blair asks. “With Sachi.”
Fiona doesn’t say anything, just glances around then lets her breath out. “Since you’ve shared with me, I’ll share with you. I can do that.”
Blair waits, as Fiona seems to be trying to gain some composure. Oddly, for all Fiona’s personality defects, Blair can’t help still feeling sympathy since they’re kind of in the same boat.
“It’s not going well at all.” Fiona grips her coffee cup. “I’m not quite sure how I got into this situation. You’re lucky to be in love with a man who doesn’t want you, instead of a woman.”
Blair tries not to be insulted by Fiona’s phrasing. “I don’t feel lucky.”
“Men are so easy. Such simpletons. They think with their dicks first.” Fiona sighs. “Women are far more complex. Sachi says she doubts my sincerity, thinks I’m being,” Fiona pauses, “overly dramatic. That I love the drama.”
Blair nods. “You are kind of dramatic. Maybe you could try toning it down.”
Fiona shoots her a look. “The love of my life is ditching me. What would you have me do?”
“Instead of weeping and wailing into the phone every night, maybe try talking to her.”
“I do talk, but then I get upset!”
Blair nods. “I know, but you’re trying to win her back, right? You need to show her you care about what she wants, too.”
Fiona seems to mull this over. “Maybe.”
They talk a little more about Sachi and just as they’re leaving, Natalie comes over. Blair introduces the two of them.
“Very nice to meet you,” Fiona tells her. “I was just telling Blair how impressed I am with your bakery. There’s so much more you can do, though.”
“Excuse me?” Natalie says.
And then to both Blair’s and Natalie’s astonishment, Fiona starts laying out a crash-course marketing plan for them. Telling them how they first need to create a cookbook with baking recipes. “That’s a must,” Fiona insists. “You should do that right away. Don’t wait!” She tells them they also need to start selling merchandise with their name on it—aprons, coffee mugs, and T-shirts. They need to do everything in their power to capture their brand. She talks about the kind of ads they need to focus on, ways to get more media exposure. “Love the name, love it! But my God, you must own it.”
After Fiona goes to the restroom, Natalie’s eyebrows are still raised. “She’s weird, but I have to admit, that was incredible. I loved every single idea.”
Blair nods in amazement.
Driving home, Blair turns to Fiona. “What are you, like an idiot-savant o
r something?”
Fiona smirks. “Or something.”
LATER THE SAME night, Blair is in bed reading, trying to pretend she isn’t waiting up for Nathan. How long does it take to tune-up a car?
Nobody was around when she came home after her errands, so she just hung out with Mr. Maurice, enjoying the peace and quiet.
She glances down at the oversized T-shirt and shorts she wears to bed every night. Fiona was full of advice on the drive back from the bakery about how she needed to ramp up her game.
“You’re not torturing him enough. That’s the problem.”
“I don’t want to torture Nathan.”
“Yes, you do. If you want him, that’s exactly what you need to do.”
Blair rolled her eyes.
“Don’t worry,” Fiona said. “I’m going to help.”
“Please, just stay out of it. I don’t want your help.”
“Yes, you do. You need my help!”
Blair throws the covers off and goes over to her closet, stares at the few nighties she has hanging there. Hearing Fiona’s business ideas about La Dolce Vita was one thing, but am I really going to start taking advice on my love life from the Wicked Witch?
She sighs.
And just as she’s changed into a silky crimson nightie with spaghetti straps and matching panties, she hears the front door open and close.
Blair stops, listens. There are no voices, just footsteps—definitely Nathan’s—heading toward the bedroom. She freezes, but he walks past and goes into the office instead.
Quickly, Blair throws her clothes in the hamper then pulls the band out of her hair and shakes it loose. She takes some perfume off her dresser and squirts a mist of it in the air before walking through it.
Then she puts on her pink robe and goes out to find him.
Nathan’s sitting behind his desk wearing a dark gray Henley, his blond hair pulled back into a short ponytail. She hasn’t seen it like that in years, and the sight stops her.
God, he’s beautiful.
He glances up from the open computer in front of him. “What’s up, princess?”
“Nothing. I heard you come in and just thought I’d say hello.”
Road scrolls through his phone for something, then types into his computer.
“Did you go out somewhere with Fiona?” she asks.
“No, dropped her off at Sachi’s.”
“Really?”
He nods, continues typing.
“Hopefully, that’s a good sign.”
“Yeah, hope so.” Nathan starts to chuckle. “Did you really pour iced coffee on Fiona while she was sleeping this morning?”
Blair doesn’t say anything. It figures Fiona would rat her out despite their supposed bonding today.
He stops typing for a moment and glances up at her. “Take it by your silence it’s true?”
“She made me mad.”
Nathan chuckles some more, but doesn’t seem bothered. “That’s some crazy shit, babe.”
“I’m not usually like that. She brings it out in me.”
He smirks but seems focused on his work again.
Blair continues to stand there. She studies the air mattress he never uses and probably never will. She shifts her weight from one leg to the other, feeling awkward and stupid. Why did I even bother with the nightie and perfume?
“You’re obviously busy,” she says. “I’m going to go.”
There must have been something in her voice, though, because Nathan looks up again. His laser focus is already turned on, and she can see he’s directing it at her.
He takes in her face, hair, robe, legs, and then goes back to her face. A smile pulls at his mouth, his eyes interested. “Guess I’m done now.”
“Are you?”
“Yeah, definitely. Don’t go.” She watches him close his computer down. He pushes his chair back, but doesn’t get up. “Come over here.”
Blair feels awkward, like it’s so obvious she’s trying to seduce him. “You can keep working on your computer. I don’t care.”
“Don’t want to anymore.” He’s watching her. “Don’t be shy. What’s underneath that robe?”
“Nothing much.”
“Why don’t you show me?”
She sees the heat in his eyes and decides, if I’m in, might as well be in all the way. Blair walks over and stands in front of him, his gaze steady on her the whole time.
He motions with his head. “Let me see. Are you naked underneath?”
Blair unties the robe and slips it off so all she has on is the crimson nightie. It’s silky and short, and drapes over her hips and breasts in a way she knows is flattering.
“Goddamn.” Nathan’s brows go up when he sees her. “Is today my birthday?”
She laughs, knowing his birthday is in December. “This old thing? All my other clothes are in the wash.”
There’s a flash of white from his grin. “Laundry day.”
“Afraid so.”
He licks his lower lip. “Lucky me. Let’s make sure we have laundry day more often.”
Blair smiles, though the expression on his face has her catching her breath.
“Come here.” He reaches out for her. “Have a seat.”
She goes to sit on his lap, but he stops her. “Not like that. Face me.”
Blair does as he asks and climbs onto Nathan so she’s straddling him. It’s a tight fit in the office chair, but doable. She can feel the thick column of his erection beneath his jeans, pressing at her center.
He takes his hands away. Doesn’t touch her, just leans back for a second, lets his eyes roam over her, clearly enjoying the view. “Damn. I don’t care what you say, today is definitely my birthday.”
Blair pretends indifference, though secretly she’s pleased.
Nathan reaches across and brushes her hair off her shoulder, trails his fingers down her neck and arm, leaving sparks on her skin. “So elegant,” he murmurs. He takes her wrist then runs his thumb down over her palm, studying her.
“You keep saying that.”
“Because it’s true. You’re one of those girls I was always supposed to keep my hands off.”
“What do you mean?”
But he just shakes his head, lets her wrist go and grips her hips instead, then slides his hands around to cup her ass. “Nothing. That shit doesn’t matter anymore.”
Blair isn’t entirely sure what he’s talking about. She brings her arms up and rests them on his solid shoulders, reaches around to tug on his ponytail. “I like this. It’s cute.”
“Had to keep my hair out of the way while I was working on the car.”
“How did it go?”
“Good. Definitely running better.”
“Thanks for doing that.”
His eyes are on hers, and he doesn’t seem to want to look away. They drop to her mouth. “No problem,” he says. He leans in and kisses her, then kisses her some more.
She sighs with bliss because he tastes so good. Feels so good. His smoky scent drifts around her, pulling her into the undertow. He deepens the kiss and she’s all-in for a while, but then pushes him away.
“What’s wrong?” he breathes, trying to draw her back again.
She turns her head to the side, but doesn’t say anything.
Nathan looks at her questioningly. “Something on your mind?”
Blair nods and lets out a deep sigh. “What exactly are we doing here with each other?”
He grins a little, runs his hand down her spine. “Thought we were celebrating my birthday.”
Blair smiles, despite herself. “You know what I mean.” She pauses. “Are we friends, lovers, what?”
He considers this. Shrugs. “Guess we’re kind of exploring things.”
“Are you sleeping with anybody else?”
“Babe, how could I be? I’m here with you every night.”
She gives him a look. “You know what I mean.”
He reaches up to tuck some hair behind her ear and speaks in a
n earnest voice. “This is really putting a damper on my birthday surprise.”
“Nathan, I’m serious.”
He meets her eyes and shakes his head. “No, I’m not with anybody else. I don’t want to be.”
“What about Marla? Fiona told me you were out with her a couple of weeks ago.”
“Christ, no.” His expression turns slightly horrified.
Blair watches him closely, but it’s obvious he’s telling the truth. “What about that night at your mom’s party when you didn’t come back.”
Nathan’s brows come together. “What about it?”
“Who were you with then?”
“No one.”
Blair studies him.
“So, what, now you’re the jealous wife all of a sudden?”
She sighs, looking down at the drape of red silk in her lap. “This just isn’t the way I do things. I’m not a casual sex person. Even though I know we’re not actually having ‘real’ sex, it’s close enough.” She looks back up at him.
His eyes soften. Nathan puts his hand up to her cheek, slides his fingers into her hair. “It’s okay, I know what you mean. You’re a good girl,” but then he amends it, “a good woman. I get that.”
Blair doesn’t say anything to this, can’t, because she knows the truth about what she did to him all those years ago. And there was nothing good about it.
“Come on, let’s take this into my bedroom,” Blair said, getting up from the couch and pulling on Road’s hand.
He grabbed the bottle of Jack Daniels from the coffee table and followed her out of the living room.
Blair led him straight to her room then closed the door behind him. She felt like a thief, stealing something that didn’t belong to her, but then decided that was absurd. Gwen cheated on him. The truth was none of his Skank Factor X girlfriends deserved him to begin with.
Road grinned at her, tried pulling her over onto the bed, but Blair had other plans. She took the bottle and put it on her nightstand, turned back to him.
“Strip for me,” she said.
Road chuckled. “Ladies first.”
“Come on.” Blair softened her voice. “I promise I’ll go next.”
Road shrugged. He reached behind to pull his T-shirt off. Blair sat on the bed, ready to enjoy the show, but to her amazement he was undressed in less than ten seconds. His black Metallica shirt, faded jeans, boxers, socks, shoes, all of it was in a pile at the foot of her bed.
Return of the Jerk (Sweet Life in Seattle, Book 2) Page 22
