Stripped (Travesty Book 2)

by Lawson, Piper

  “We don’t have plans tonight,” I said. I’ll tell him. Just not yet.

  Twenty minutes later I was tipping the delivery guy. Unpacking our food, I brought both of ours out to the living room. I figured eating at the table was out. Nate sat on the couch and I took the floor in front of him, using his coffee table as a tray. Given my height, it was the perfect size.

  “When you said you’d feed me, I didn’t know you meant takeout.”

  I shot him an icy look over my shoulder. “I can cook, Suit. I just choose not to. Now be quiet, my favorite show is on.” I turned the channel and sighed with contentment. We were just in time for the recap.

  Nate slid down beside me, gingerly given his ankle. He was just inches away, close enough that I could feel the heat from his body. “I need the table,” was his excuse.

  I didn’t say anything but ignored the fact that our legs were tucked underneath the same table, which forced us closer. He didn’t seem to notice.

  “So there are four girls fighting for one guy?” Nate asked a few minutes later. For an Ivy League grad, he was having a hard time with the concept.

  “Yeah. At the start there were twenty girls.”

  “Twenty girls trying to get that dude? What is he, a prince? Heir to a paper products fortune?” I thought his eyes would fall out of his head.

  “There’s more to life than net worth, Nate,” I said primly.

  “Like what. Accent pillows?”

  I shot him an arch look, pointing at his leg. “Watch it, Suit, or you might lose the other one too.”

  He smirked but followed my lead, turning back to the TV, where the bachelor and one of the girls had arrived at an oasis with a hot tub.

  “What are they doing now?” Nate asked.

  “They’re going on a date. Shhh.”

  “But he was just making out with the other one,” Nate replied, confused.

  “Right. And when I said ‘Shhh,’ I totally meant ‘Keep talking, but quieter.’”

  Nate frowned and ignored me. “That’s bullshit. Wait, what’s in the envelope?”

  “That’s it.” I rounded on him. “You are the worst TV buddy ever.”

  His eyes widened innocently. “What’d I do?”

  I stayed silent, shaking my head. This mischievous side of Nate was a new one for me. But he was surprisingly charming.

  On TV, the two characters were undertaking some serious PDA. I sighed. These scenes always got to me. I know some people don’t believe you can find romance on reality TV, but it was nice to think so.

  A snort interrupted my blissful haze. “They’re just going to have sex? He was just with that other girl five minutes ago. That’s dirty. And also how you end up paying a lifetime in child support.”

  “Thanks for the free legal advice. But you can’t talk—you pick up girls in bars all the time.”

  “Used to,” he corrected. “And I didn’t do it on TV. Or with multiple girls on the same night.”

  “Fine. There is an entire moral desert between you and this guy. Now do you want me to turn it off?”

  Nate didn’t respond at first. Then finally, “It’s like a train wreck. I can’t look away.”

  I patted his knee. “It’s OK, Suit. I’m sure they use condoms.”

  ~

  I crossed the hall around eleven the next morning toting a bag from West Elm.

  “Hey, slacker,” I called as I let myself in with the key he’d given me temporarily. Looking after Nate was a great distraction from the things I should’ve been doing. Like finishing the spring line.

  Nate glanced up from where he was lying on the couch, appearing increasingly comfortable with his forced downtime. He was still waiting on a shave but had managed to shower. Or I figured he had, judging by the clean clothes. But what stopped me in my tracks were the reading glasses on his face and the Wall Street Journal open in front of him.

  Oh.

  Fuck.

  Me.

  I’d never thought of myself as a glasses kind of girl, but Nate looked hot. Like some athlete-banker-superhero. The whole Superman/Clark Kent thing wasn’t that far off …

  His eyes narrowed suspiciously. “What?”

  “Nothing,” I tried to sound cheerful. It came out strangled.

  He waited me out.

  “You just look …” I trailed off. Felt my face go blotchy.

  “Unemployed?” he quipped. “I might be if I take any more days off.”

  “No!”

  “Then what?” he taunted. “Come on, out with it.”

  Uh-oh. I could feel it coming. Word bomb …

  “Fine! You look sexy as hell and I might’ve been on the verge of orgasm just looking at you, OK?”

  His teasing smile fell away.

  “Forget it.” I was suddenly uncomfortable, breaking his intense gaze to glance down at my bags. The seconds ticked away.

  “What is all that?” Nate asked neutrally.

  “Oh! It’s an intervention.” I started pulling things out of the bags, relieved for the prompt.

  I’d wandered home the night before and explained to Lex where I’d been. She hadn’t been thrilled, but I’d insisted it was legit. We weren’t talking about the case. And it wasn’t as if I was doing it to spend time with him.

  Because of the sparse apartment issue, this morning I’d run to the store and bought cobalt pillows to go with his slate gray couch. A coffee grinder because he didn’t have one.

  “If Better Homes and Gardens is coming, my mother will be thrilled.” Nate pulled his glasses off and set them on the table beside him. I made a mental note to hide them so he couldn’t use them against me.

  “Everyone needs color. And fresh coffee.” Then I pulled the last thing out of the bag.

  “What the fuck is that?”

  “It’s for me,” I said defensively, admiring the framed art print of a gorgeous cat mid-stretch.

  “Good,” he snorted.

  I glared at him before crossing to the kitchen to make coffee. “You don’t like cats, Suit?”

  “Not especially. That a deal-breaker?” he drawled.

  “Yes. That is the one thing standing between us and our epic romance,” I tossed back.

  I finished making the coffee, leaving it black the way he liked it, then carried it into the living room.

  “Thanks,” Nate said when I set the mug on the table. Looking up, I realized he was looking at me with those blue eyes like I was the only thing he wanted to see right now. It made my stomach do funny things.

  “You’re not having any?” he asked.

  “No. Actually, I’m not staying. I need to do some sewing and run some errands for Travesty. I’ll check on you later though.”

  “Sure.” His gaze was unreadable.

  Nate was asleep when I came by after lunch. I drew for a while and did some fabric pricing on my phone, but I couldn’t focus. So instead I took the opportunity to creep his apartment in a way I couldn’t while he was awake.

  Nate had one of those book collections that said “take me seriously.” My bookshelf contained dog-eared back issues of fashion magazines, a postcard collection, and a signed five-by-seven of Ryan Reynolds I’d won in high school after calling into a radio contest fifty times in a row.

  Nate’s held volumes on law, a Guinness Book of World Records, some Shakespeare, lots of wilderness books, and a biography of some Nobel Peace Prize winner.

  The kicker was they weren’t for show. I pulled a book off the shelf and noticed its pages were dog-eared. Same with the next one. They were all read. Well-read.

  A stack of slim books on the top shelf looked out of place. I had to stretch to reach them but tugged one out. I grinned at the Superman comic, feeling triumphant. I’d have to bug him about that later.

  In the end I chose the biography.

  Just when the book was getting good, a light knock sounded at the door.

  The last person I expected was standing in the hall when I answered it. Nate’s hot blond not
-girlfriend looked back at me, surprise etched on her classic features.

  “Hi. I’m looking for Nate?” she asked, confused.

  Stepping into the hall, I pulled the door after me so we didn’t wake Nate. “He’s sleeping. I’m Ava, his—” Former one-night stand? Defendant? “—neighbor. From across the hall.”

  Her face relaxed a few degrees. “You look familiar, but I can’t quite place you.” I didn’t mention we’d seen each other at the gala. “I need to talk with Nate. It’s urgent. I tried his work and they said he was home.”

  “What about his dad?”

  “That’s why I’m here.”

  I let her in. She hung her sweater on a hook in a way that said she was comfortable in his apartment before going to the couch.

  “Hey, Nate.” Her voice was smooth as honey as she knelt next to him. She touched his shoulder. Way to cop a feel.

  Which is exactly what I did the other day, I reminded myself guiltily.

  “Ava?” His voice was sleepy.

  “It’s Abby.”

  His eyes opened, focus. He pushed up to sitting. “What are you doing here?”

  She looked worried. “Nate, it’s your dad. Your mom’s been trying to reach you all morning.”

  “What?” Suddenly he was awake.

  “You weren’t answering your phone so she asked me to find you. Your office said you were home.” She took his hand. “Nate, he had a heart attack on his way home from London.”

  Nate’s face went white. “What? Is he—?”

  “He should be home soon. They were running tests this morning. They think he’s going to be all right.”

  “I need to see him.”

  My gut tightened at his reaction. It was almost like seven months ago, the panic. His whole body was tense. I was torn between giving them space and staying right where I was.

  I was also still grappling with the news that Nate’s mother was on “calling” terms with Abby.

  “Of course you need to see him. I can drive you,” Abby was saying.

  “No,” he replied quickly. “Ava will.” He looked over Abby’s shoulder at me, trying to communicate without words.

  “But—”

  “I mean, thank you. Abby. I appreciate it. But you don’t need to.”

  Abby glanced toward me, assessing. “All right,” she said finally. “I’ll see you soon. Let me know if you need anything. I know this is hard on you with … everything.” She leaned over to kiss his cheek before leaving.

  When the door closed, Nate fell back against the pillows, eyes on the ceiling. “Will you? Take me to my parents?” He took a rough breath. “You know I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.”

  “You’d better have a car.”

  Chapter 18

  Ava

  “So you weren’t kidding about the Porsche last year, were you?”

  He smiled grimly. “She was a graduation gift. Don’t break her.”

  Nate had made it to the elevator and then the parking garage on crutches that Emma had sent over the day before. We got him into the passenger side and I walked around to the driver’s seat. I put the car in gear. It jerked and Nate winced.

  “Maybe this wasn’t—”

  “Kidding! I can drive stick. Where to?”

  He sighed and shook his head. “I’ll direct you.”

  I maneuvered us out of the parking garage and he pointed out along 37th.

  “Do you want to talk about this?” I asked as we settled into the midday traffic.

  “About the Porsche?” he asked dryly.

  I glanced over. “About the fact that your father just had a heart attack.”

  “No.”

  “Do you want to call your mom?”

  “No. Just drive.” He leaned forward and turned on the radio, effectively shutting me out.

  I had questions but couldn’t push him and drive at the same time. Whenever I glanced over he was staring out the window, lost in thought.

  We passed a million lights and crossed two bridges. I looked down at the clock and was startled to realize we’d been on the road for forty minutes, silent except for Nate’s occasional directions. I turned the radio down and the Red Hot Chili Peppers faded. “Ah, Nate? Your parents live in Queens?”

  “We’re past Queens.”

  My eyes narrowed. “Then where exactly are we going?”

  Nate shifted in his seat. I was suspicious even before he said, “East Hampton.”

  “What?” I swerved.

  “Careful.”

  “How could you not tell me this?” I exclaimed.

  Nate looked at me as if the answer was obvious. “I didn’t think you’d take me.”

  “So you tricked me,” I accused.

  “Come on. You get more time driving this.” He tapped the dash lightly with his fingers. “About ten miles ahead you can really open her up.”

  The casual tone made it seem like we hardly knew each other. Like I was here to drive his damned car instead of as a favor.

  I pulled off the road and put the car in park.

  “What are you doing?” Nate demanded. I had his full attention for the first time in an hour.

  “Nate, I get that you’re upset. But given you’ve pretty much kidnapped me, I need you to fill me in.” He started to shake his head, so I pushed. “Tell me something, Nate. Anything. Like why you wouldn’t let Abby take you home. Especially given she’s on calling terms with your mom.”

  He stared at me and I stared at him. I won.

  “All right, fine. My mother’s been dropping hints. Pushing me and Abby together. Abby’s onto the plan.”

  “And that’s bad.” I tried for a neutral tone. Like picturing him with the cool blond didn’t give me serious indigestion.

  “I haven’t had more than a one-night stand in a year,” he admitted. “And I don’t want to. It’s a long story,” he added at my look.

  “Well, apparently it’s a long drive.”

  Maybe realizing I wouldn’t give up, he finally undid his seatbelt and swiveled his body in the seat to face me. He pulled off his sunglasses and held them in one hand.

  “Jamie was my best friend. As kids we did everything together. But being a year apart, he wanted to compete. Grades, sports, girls—all of it. In high school we still butted heads. Then I went to Yale. I got wrapped up in my own life. Jamie went to Harvard. For a while, everything was good. I figured that’d be it.

  “The summer after graduation, I brought someone home with me. Hannah was special. We’d met at school the year before. She was a music major and used to sing in these concerts every month. She had the most incredible voice.”

  I listened, riveted. This was the most I’d heard Nate talk about himself.

  “I thought things would be good with Jamie. We were finally grown-ups. When I brought Hannah home, she didn’t have a summer job and I was starting at Townsend Price. Dad had me busting my ass. Jamie just had two online courses for his grad psychology degree.

  “For a few weeks we all coexisted. Then it started, the competitiveness. Jamie would say things to undercut me or show me up in front of Hannah. At first she brushed it off, told me not to worry about it. But at some point something changed. I didn’t see it at the time. I was too crazy about her.

  “I knew they hung out when I wasn’t around. I don’t know if it was boredom or something else. But they got closer. I don’t know if they were …” He trailed off, and I could imagine what he’d thought. Though I couldn’t imagine any girl cheating on Nate.

  “Last August when Jamie died, she was with him. In the car.”

  My body reacted to his words before he finished the thought.

  “Did she …?”

  “Yeah.”

  Nate had lost two people he loved, probably the two people he loved most, at the same time.

  “Nate, I—”

  “I don’t want to talk about it anymore, Ava,” he said, voice low but forceful. “I told you because you asked, and because you deserv
ed to know. That’s all.”

  I immediately recalled his reaction to the car horn and brakes last winter, when we’d been in the cab. And on the balcony afterward. That had been a man who’d not only suffered, but who blamed himself. I wanted to ask why, but I knew if there was one place I needed to tread lightly, it was this one.

  Instead I asked, “And you don’t want to date Abby because you’re not interested or you’re not ready?”

  “Abby and I went to the same schools, had the same friends. Until Hannah, part of me always thought we might end up together. We might still.”

  “That doesn’t sound very romantic.”

  Nate laughed humorlessly. “Life isn’t romantic, Ava. Good decisions aren’t romantic.”

  His cynicism raised the hairs on the back of my neck. It seemed so wrong for someone with his whole life ahead of him to feel that way. Even someone who’d been through as much as Nate had.

  “Well in that case, why not just cave now?” I countered. “Get a ring, a date at the Four Seasons, and some baby names?”

  “Because I’ll get there when I get there. I don’t need my mother throwing girls at me.”

  “Then don’t let her,” I insisted, banging the steering wheel with my hand. “You’re a lot of things, Nate, but you’re not a coward. You would really consider marrying someone you’re not even into because it’ll make your mom happy? Know what else would make your mom happy? Flowers. Grow a pair and get her some damn flowers, Nate. Because a loveless marriage means a lot of years in a rocking chair next to someone who makes you want to stab your eyes with a fork.”

  Nate tossed the sunglasses he’d been playing with on the seat between his legs. Cool eyes watched me, but I could see a muscle tic in his jaw. “That’s a big speech for a hypocrite,” he said quietly.

  I frowned. “What do you mean?”

  At first he looked like he regretted what he’d said and wasn’t about to say more. Finally he continued. “When I found out about you and Josh, it bothered me. I admit it. But I thought ‘Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe there’s something there I’m missing.’” Nate shook his head. “That’s why I went that day, with all of you. I wanted to know what it was between you.”

  My mouth dropped open.