Nate’s gaze locked on mine for a few seconds before he spoke. “Dad, this is Ava.”
Nate’s father started to stand, but I held up a hand awkwardly.
“Please, don’t get up, Mr. Townsend.”
Alistair Townsend nodded once, setting down the New York Times in his hands to run cool blue eyes over me. Despite the fact that Mr. Townsend was pale and sitting in a chair, he was formidable. After a long moment his face finally softened.
“You brought my son home.”
It wasn’t clear whether that was a question or a thank you.
“I hope you’re feeling better.”
“I’m feeling fine. You know doctors, always overprotective. Ridiculous since they don’t make any money off you when you’re healthy.”
“Maybe you’re a walking advertisement for their good services.” I smiled.
He tilted his head, assessing. “That’s true, Ava. I like that.” He smiled, showing perfect rows of teeth. “Tell me. How did you meet Nathan?”
Nate and I had gotten our story straight last night. I’d reinforced how much I hated lying, so we’d agreed to steer as close to the truth as possible.
“I was visiting New York for work last winter. My best friend and I just moved here a couple of months ago. We’re in the fashion industry,” I said vaguely.
Fortunately Alistair didn’t grill me over breakfast like his wife had the day before. We managed to have a friendly conversation, spearheaded mainly by Alistair. Mr. Townsend was such a natural—or so practiced—in his social skills, I bet he could conduct an orchestra in his sleep.
It surprised me to learn that Nate’s father was actually charming. I’d been picturing someone … menacing.
“We’re having company for dinner tonight,” Celeste added when we rose to leave. “Please be ready at seven.”
It was only now I realized she’d hardly said five words all of breakfast. Alistair was such an overwhelming presence that even his wife’s aura faded into the background next to his.
Nate and I left the room together to head upstairs. He was managing better on the crutches, and I let him go first.
“Thanks for the note this morning,” I said to him. “Or the notes, I guess.”
When he reached the top of the stairs he turned. “You’re welcome. I didn’t want a repeat of last time.” His mouth twitched. “I got up early to close your door.”
“Good idea.” I imagined what his parents would’ve thought if they’d seen my bed untouched. I smiled, pausing on the top step in front of him. “So last night …”
“Yeah.”
I shrugged. “What was it, Nate? For you, I mean?” I didn’t want to be the girl who got hung up on a guy she couldn’t have. But I needed to clear the air.
Nate reached out a hand, stroking his thumb down my arm. His eyes watched its path. My breath stuck in my chest.
“It was a perfect moment in a year of hell,” he said simply, eyes flicking back up to mine.
Nate.
There was so much I wanted to say, and to ask. Like, was last night only a moment or could it be more? Did we even want it to be?
Hearing noises downstairs, I knew it wasn’t the right time to talk about it.
“Why don’t you stay and visit with your dad,” I said. “I’m going to draw for a while.”
He nodded, an unfathomable look on his face. “You could check out the beach, it’s not far. Even you can’t get lost.” A ghost of a smile traced his mouth.
“I’ll hold you to that.” I grabbed my sweater from his room, exchanging a quick look with him as I passed him and went back down the stairs.
We might’ve gotten back to our light teasing, but last night had shifted things between us.
And even if we wanted to, there was no going back.
Chapter 21
Nate
After breakfast I showered, barely noticing the water because my brain was on overdrive. Last night had been completely unpredictable and unplanned. I thought I’d been wrecked before, but Ava demolished me with her words and her compassion and her damned giving. I hadn’t known it was possible to give and take so much at he same time. The way she’d felt under me, like in that moment she only existed for me, blew my mind.
The ankle was better but not fixed. I could take a few steps without the crutches or without swearing in my head. When I made it downstairs, I found my dad in the antique chair behind his desk in his study. The chair had been a gift from the governor for my parents’ twenty-fifth wedding anniversary. No one had pointed out that it was a gift for my father, not my mother.
My dad looked pale in the light from the window behind him. His long-sleeved shirt covered the marks where they’d taken blood the day before.
“Can we talk?” I asked from the doorway.
He glanced up, pushing the notebook computer in front of him to the corner of his desk. “Yes.” I settled myself in the chair across from him, leaning the crutches against the side. His eyes surveyed me. “I’m glad you’ve finally come back here. Though I wish you weren’t here under these circumstances. I told your mother it wasn’t necessary for you to drop everything and run to my side.”
His voice made it clear he thought it was overdramatic, but Ava’s words replayed in my head. “It is necessary, Dad. They had to carry you off the tarmac at JFK in an ambulance.”
He shook his head. “It was an anomaly. I’m healthy as I’ve ever been,” he scoffed. “It’s the travel schedule lately, all these international meetings on the Klipport merger. Too much time in hotels.”
My father’s expression dared me to disagree with him.
“I’m sure that’s a contributing factor. But you’re starting a campaign. You’ve always told me they’re marathons, not sprints. It’s going to take a toll.”
“Nathan, listen to me. The world is always difficult for people like us. There’s always someone there, just over your shoulder, seeking to take you down. Take the campaign: they’ll look for dirt. My opponents, the media. They won’t find it.”
His voice took on a new urgency. “They won’t find it because we will keep this contained. No one will know about this.”
I looked at him in disbelief. “You think we can hide the fact that you had a heart attack?”
“We have to. They’re vultures. I already spoke with Bill about our containment strategy. I came in on a private plane. The crew and hospital have statements if they’re asked about it. The doctor has a gag order and can’t speak to the media.”
I wondered what was going on in his head, if anything had changed for him when he’d felt the shock of the blood ceasing to flow through his veins. If he’d had a single moment of wondering, worrying. Of feeling out of control.
Or if he’d just willed his heart to start again. And it’d had no choice but to obey, as most did in the face of Alistair Townsend’s demands.
“You need to get that girl to sign an NDA too.”
My attention snapped back. “You want Ava to swear she won’t talk about this. Mom called Abby about it. Are you making her sign a non-disclosure agreement too?”
He folded his hands on the desk in front of him. “Nathan.” His voice was as serious as I’d ever heard it. “We are family. Abigail is family. That girl is an unknown. And this? This is everything I’ve worked for. Politics isn’t fair. In an instant it could all come crashing down like a damned house of cards. I’m not willing to take unnecessary risks. And neither should you.”
My dad’s meaning was loud and clear.
Isn’t he right not to trust Ava? part of me asked. I knew she had no reason to protect my father. Hell, she could leverage it if she wanted to.
No. She wouldn’t.
I’d been a short-sighted idiot to claim her as my girlfriend on the doorstep. If my dad had the slightest clue who she was, that I’d brought a defendant here, had not only talked with her but slept with her…
I hated the feeling in my gut right now. Like I was torn in two. But it wasn’t
a question of loyalties. Not really.
“I’ll look after it.” My voice sounded surer than I’d expected. “What else?”
“Go back to work. Price is in charge until Monday. But I want you to keep an eye on things. We need a Townsend in that office, Nathan.”
I replayed the words I’d been rehearsing in the shower. The request I’d been so sure of making an hour ago was gone like water down the drain. The reality was, it was my job to hold the ship steady. As a son and as a Townsend. No matter what that cost me.
“I’ll be there tomorrow. Nothing’s getting dropped.”
“Good. I need you in this.” My dad stood as the cell phone on his desk rang. “And Nathan?”
I’d started gathering my crutches but paused to look at him.
“Don’t forget to wear a tie for dinner.”
Chapter 22
Ava
I stuffed a sweater and towel in a tote with my wallet and sketchbook before setting out for the beach. East Hampton wasn’t my scene, but it was beautiful. The fresh air and inviting houses and shops looked like something out of a postcard.
After I turned onto Ocean Avenue, the water appeared. The breeze filled my pores and the sounds of the gulls swamped my ears. A wave of homesickness grabbed me, and I took the deepest breath I had in weeks.
Moving to New York had thrown me. Nate had been my greatest stress and, somehow, my greatest comfort.
His family was so different from mine. In some ways, they had more. But there was none of the friendly teasing I grew up with at the table. What had they been like before, when Jamie was alive? Did they laugh? Tease?
Pictures in the hallway showed two smiling boys, one dark and one fair. The fair one was Jamie. They both beamed out of the picture like they were glad to be alive. In a more recent picture, what looked like Nate’s college graduation, Nate was grinning his widest smile and his eyes were clear as the cloudless sky. A matching photo from Jamie’s featured different school colors, but the same joy and pride.
Now the Townsends had lost Jamie, and Nate had lost part of himself.
I gazed into the ocean until my fingers itched. I hadn’t touched a pencil in three days and realized I was burning to.
A surge of energy flowed through me as I dug my supplies out of the bag. Sketchpad, pencils, colored pens. My hands chose one and started moving over the page, creating lines and shapes. Occasionally specks of water leapt out of the sea and landed on the page. It didn’t matter.
The phone in my bag buzzed. When I checked it, I was startled to realize it’d been nearly three hours.
Where are you?
Somewhere beautiful, I typed back.
A moment later,
You found a Starbucks?
I laughed. Glancing around I identified a few markers to help Nate find me on the beach.
Twenty minutes later I was lost in my designs when I heard grunting. Nate collapsed on the edge of the towel I’d spread out, beads of sweat on his forehead. The casual jeans and navy button-down he was wearing contrasted with the strain on his face.
“I would’ve come back eventually,” I said. But I was secretly glad he’d come. Even the sight of Nate was enough to make me happy.
“I can nearly drive, but our housekeeper insisted on bringing me.”
I glanced toward the road. “You still came a quarter mile from the parking lot on your own. Is that the Townsend tenacity?” I teased.
“More like the Townsend pigheadedness.” There was an undercurrent I couldn’t read as Nate inclined his head toward my sketchpad. “What’s that?”
Showing him my ideas made me nervous. Nate was just twenty-five, but all signs pointed to him being a great attorney. I was barely making a dent in the fashion scene, and part of me was still terrified we wouldn’t string two successful seasons together.
I turned the sketchbook anyway and held my breath.
“Holy shit.” Nate grabbed it from my hand, eyes running over the drawing of the faceless girl in the sleek outfit. He turned the page, and again. “These are amazing. I’ve seen your clothes before, but … You’re really good.”
“Thanks.” I blushed. “There are a lot of talented designers out there.”
Nate set the sketchpad down on the towel, then dragged a finger through the sand next to us. He made a circle, then two lines, four, five. The world’s worst stick figure took form. I burst out laughing.
“It’s harder than it looks,” he murmured, glancing up at me with a boyish half-smile.
“Don’t quit your day job,” I agreed.
Nate looked back to the sketchpad. “I know you didn’t copy anything,” he said abruptly. “I think I knew it for longer than I was willing to admit.”
My heart squeezed. It made all the difference in the world for him to think it, even more to say it. “Thanks, Nate. Could you tell Bryson that?”
The warmth left his eyes. It was the first we’d mentioned the lawsuit since … practically since the deposition. Hearing him say it stirred up feelings I’d nearly left behind in Manhattan. Ones I hadn’t had to worry about until last night.
I hated talking about this on a beautiful sunny day surrounded by sand and wind and salt. But this ugly thing had raised its head and refused to leave us alone.
“Ava. I regret every second that he walked through that door. If I’d known, if I’d had a clue …”
“Isn’t there someone else who can take on the case?” I asked the words that’d run through my mind more than once.
He made a low sound in his throat. “Dammit, I wish there was. But with everything that’s going on with my father …” Nate took my hand, playing with my fingers. We both watched our hands, not each other.
“Lex said something to me yesterday,” I started. “That if anyone found out we’d been together, it could be bad. For Travesty.”
He nodded. “And for me. If anyone found out we were talking like this, without your lawyer? We shouldn’t be here.”
Nate’s hands were so much bigger. I’d felt them on me, holding me, chasing me. Now they were gentle. Stroking. Whispering over mine.
“What happens after we go home?” I asked. “In this little scheme of yours, I mean. You tell your parents we broke up?”
“Yeah.”
I could physically feel my sides ache. His fingers tangled with mine, like it hurt him too. “I was kind of getting used to being your lie girlfriend, Nate Townsend.”
“Me too.” He hesitated, turning something heavy over in his mind. “Would you wait for me?”
“What?” My head jerked up to find him watching me.
“Once the case is over. Do you think we could ever be more than a lie?”
My heart broke again, imagining how hard it was for him to ask that. How much I wanted to say yes.
“Nate,” I started, my eyes searching his. “I have everything to lose. Lawyers lose cases sometimes. I can’t afford to lose this one. And if you’re the one who drives Travesty into the ground …” I shrugged helplessly. “I won’t tell you it wouldn’t shift things between us. Even if I could forgive it, I couldn’t forget it.”
We looked out at the water together for a long minute. I wondered if we were lost in the same thoughts, or different ones.
“Can’t you just try less hard?” I asked finally.
Nate groaned, squeezing my hand. “Don’t you think part of me wants to? I hate fucking thinking it, much less saying it out loud. My obligation is to Bryson. It doesn’t matter who he is and what I think of him. I couldn’t live with myself if I compromised this case. I couldn’t represent other clients.”
His decency was part of what drew me to him. In some ways it made me care more, that he wasn’t willing to sacrifice what he thought was right. Even if I wasn’t so sure.
“I get it, Nate. But if you win, I could lose my life.” I tried to explain what I’d always had trouble putting into words. “As long as I can remember, I’ve wanted to make clothes. Not a day goes by that I don’t think a
bout it. If I woke up tomorrow and couldn’t do this—” I gestured at the pad “—I don’t know what I’d do. And that feeling, of waking up and not having the ideas come, of having to work at something else? It makes me feel like I’d have to become someone else. And that terrifies me.”
Nate watched thoughtfully, no judgment in his clear eyes as the breeze ruffled his hair. “One time when I was eight, I woke up soaking wet and confused on my neighbors’ porch. I banged on the door. Mr. Cartwright answered in his robe, looking at me like I was an alien until he realized who I was. He called my parents while Mrs. Cartwright made me hot chocolate. It turned out I’d sleepwalked two hundred yards down the street in the rain.”
Nate looked out at the water, living it again in his mind.
“That’s what my life feels like some days. Like I woke up in a strange place and don’t know how I got there. I never burned to practice law. I vaguely remember the path. A bunch of tiny decisions, so small they seemed insignificant at the time. Taking a class. Going to a dinner. Playing tennis with the dean at Yale.
“But they must’ve added up because here I am. Now I have to do my best. Be better every single day, even if I’m not quite sure why. If I’m not blowing through cases, clocking the hours, showing up at fundraisers … then I don’t know who I am. Like if I’m not on the porch soaking wet, then I must still be asleep.” He looked back to me, uncertain. A vulnerability undercut the preppy clothes and aristocratic features. “I’ve never said that out loud. It’s kind of fucked up.”
I thought back to the boy letting his brother win. The one speaking passionately at the gala and feeding homeless people, who was grappling with the decision to help me or do what he’d sworn to do, even if I didn’t agree with it.
“I know who you are, Nate Townsend. Even if you don’t. You’re someone who sees something wrong and does everything in his power to make it right.”
He sucked in a breath, then leaned toward me with excruciating slowness and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. His eyes searched mine. “No one sees me like you do. And I don’t know that I deserve it. But I want to. I want to deserve you, looking at me just like that.”
Stripped (Travesty Book 2) Page 16
