Victoria knew this. She said as much to Nathan's face using different words. Chris did her a favor by using “like,” as if she was in high school and they were talking about the sophomore dance. As if lust had nothing to do with it, as if she didn't just throw that to the wind and took exactly what she wanted from Nathan.
She was worse than a snob and hypocrite.
Chris was being kind this time.
He went on, “You know that he asked before if you were seeing anyone? And I said he should ask you out. At the time I meant to challenge him a bit, but later I thought it might actually work between you two. He's a lot like you. You both acted like you were ready for school and all that shit to be done way before we were.”
This she realized too, only because Nathan was now a freaking pen pal. He was working a lot, his new job taking him to field inspections to God knows where. He'd tell her this. She knew he went to three different states in the past six months. She knew that he was sleeping in motels, eating the same sausage, pancakes, and cheese omelet at Denny's whenever he could. She joked about what that would do to his abs. He said she was free to do a touch comparison test anytime.
“I don't know how to make it up to him,” Victoria said.
“Well, think of something.”
She didn't argue with him on that.
Chapter 13
Almost a year since Mexico. Nathan didn't forget.
He kept track of time and how much of it he spent it on things. It was the smart thing to do when you were always giving yourself a deadline on something: a hobby, a trip, avoiding a relationship. As soon as he walked out of the airport in Houston that day, he wondered when he'd cut the cord on this. Back then, he figured three months. By then he would have found something new to distract himself with, and Victoria would get her wish. He didn't find it unreasonable or insulting that after a weekend of sex she'd ask for some discretion. He might have even brought it up if she hadn't.
But he'd always remember, and know. That should have been enough. She didn't even expect him to call or stay in touch, which would have been the dream hookup for someone else.
Nathan didn't have to keep texting. It was her fault, really, because she kept replying, and in perfect little sentences that said exactly what he needed at the time. He knew she was in the middle of her senior year and setting up her business and couldn't be bothered with bullshit, and he was rewarded each time she replied by refreshing non-bullshit as well. It was an entertaining diversion on some days, an anchor during his stressful ones. Victoria was always juggling more work than one person her age would willingly take on. He respected that, still thought that was badass, and thought about her when his boss gave him an unreasonable deadline.
What would Victoria do.
Maybe she found him just as entertaining. Maybe that was why she kept replying, humoring his attempts to flirt. She never agreed to see him, but she was busy.
What would Victoria do.
Though he liked sending random messages from wherever new town, city, or state he had to visit for work, he did not tell her about Florida. Did not tell her about Tampa, where he stayed for two days at the end of October.
“What's good here?” he said, peering at his lunch companion over his menu at Bob Evans.
“The pulled pork,” Haley Reese said without missing a beat.
It was the first time he was even in the same room with Haley, but the meeting was easy to set up. Chris was in touch with her for an entirely different reason.
Nathan ordered the pulled pork with onions and mashed potatoes, and she did the same. “How's Victoria?” he asked.
She was eyeing him suspiciously but was not hostile, at least. “She's awesome. We just wrapped up another Breathe Music Festival like two weeks ago. She's probably relaxing by making checklists right now.”
That got him laughing. “Of course.”
Haley picked the lemon wedge out of her water, eyes still on him. “Nathan, I appreciate the lunch date. Really curious too. What do you need to know?”
“I...I don't know.” Almost a year and he still had no answer to this. He only knew that he had a question. “I can't get her to see me.”
“Oh, that. I'm not going to make her do it if she doesn't want to, you know.”
“That's not why I'm here. I know very well how she won't do things.”
“Then...thanks for the food? We just eat and go?”
“Is she seeing anyone?”
“Ah.” Haley fiddled with the ketchup bottle in front of her. “I'm not going to tell you that, Nathan.”
God. He had reduced himself to this. “I only meant—”
“No, buddy. You know how this works. She's my friend. I get to tell her everything that happened today. Including that you were snooping about her dating situation, which is none of your business.”
“Tell me what I need to do,” Nathan said. “I don't care what you tell her. She's not pushing me away completely, so I might still be able to swing this.”
“Why?”
“What do you mean, why?”
“Why? Mexico was months ago.” Haley obviously didn't keep track of time as precisely as he did. “I don't know what you're trying to prove by winning her over. You've dated other people since then, right?”
He did. He tried. “Yes.”
“What, old habits no longer working for you?”
He frowned. “What did she tell you about me?”
Haley smirked. “Hang on, Nathan. I'm not going to be as hard on you as she was. I always thought her piranha thing a smokescreen anyway. But that's a legitimate question. What exactly are you asking for?”
He wanted to be able to see her. Talk to her, and see her respond, instead of look at a damn phone. He wanted—
“A chance,” he said.
Haley breathed deep and let out a long, heavy sigh. “Okay, that's a little pathetic. Maybe I won't tell her about this after all, so you can keep some of your pride.”
He winced. “Thanks,” he said dryly.
“A chance is not going to be enough, Nathan. Not going to drag you into my own drama, but you've got to aim higher. Ask for a chance, and you just might get that and nothing else.”
***
Text from Nathan:
They used a different cheese, I think.
Text from Victoria:
That's insane.
Nathan:
It's the best so far though. Fist bump, New Mexico. What are you doing this weekend?
Victoria:
Something's come up. Not sure, but back in Houston on Sunday.
Nathan:
Flying?
Victoria:
Yes.
Nathan:
Safe flight.
Nathan:
Victoria, how long do you think we can do this?
Victoria:
Do what?
Nathan:
This.
Nathan:
Is it enough for you?
She was in New Orleans, and she should have been enjoying it more. It was her first time there, that November weekend, flying business class, booked into a hotel in the French Quarter on a rock star's tab. She refused the car ride to the show she was going to attend because it was only a few blocks away from her hotel. Oliver Cabrera would start performing at maybe ten in the evening but she took the long way around, stepping into random establishments along the quarter. It was always a surprise, these shops that looked one way on the outside and totally different inside.
She should have been enjoying it more. She kept looking at her phone, scrolling through the conversation thread with Nathan. After the show, Victoria reviewed that last text conversation, from just the day before, and marveled at how she had chickened out yet again. She never replied. She let his question hang in the air, and it followed her to Louisiana.
He’d asked that because he was done with her, of course. She suspected that he was almost done with this. Sometimes there would be radio silence for more tha
n a few days, and she just knew it was because he was with someone else, someone who had no hang-ups, and she went through a phase of bitter but quiet acceptance while she threw herself into more work.
Then he would send her a new message, picking up where they’d left off. The relief was real, and so intense, she was almost ashamed of it. But there was always new work to throw herself into so she wouldn’t have to confront the reason why.
“Excuse me,” she told Chris. “Need air.”
Chris barely heard her, for sure could barely see her in the dark, but she didn't need his permission. She was flown in to watch Oliver’s show, apparently because she was there for a special purpose, which she had already served.
Once out on Bourbon Street, she called her best friend. Still up at one in the morning.
“Are we all calmed down now?” she said, first thing, even though her feelings were all abuzz still. Oliver Cabrera had played at a theater in the French Quarter, a venue smaller than what he was used to, but it had showed off the change in the musician recovering from his brush with instant fame. She'd gotten to know him a little when he was mentoring at Breathe Music, which concluded mere weeks ago. Her best friend Haley apparently got to know him so much more—he made sure Victoria would be in New Orleans so Haley would get the message. Because Haley herself insisted she would not be.
“I don't think I'll be over this for a while,” Haley told her.
“I can't believe this happened.”
“I thought you orchestrated it!”
Why did people think she was in charge of things? She wasn't that manipulative, was she? “I didn't, but it's my fault that I underestimate people. He's so into you, Haley. I'm on a bar crawl with him and he can't stop talking about you.”
She wondered what this meant, that Oliver and Haley would be a thing. Would Haley move to New York? Would she really pursue an actual music career? Victoria was happy. And scared, almost, for her friend. So much uncertainty was going to be scary.
But at least she wasn't going to be in this awful limbo that Victoria exiled herself to.
Her next call was to Nathan.
“I'm sorry for calling so late,” she said.
“Where are you? I hear music.”
He didn't sound like he'd been woken up. She wondered what he'd been doing, and painfully, if he was with someone.
“Bourbon Street, actually. New Orleans. That's an awesome jazz quartet you might be hearing right now.”
“New Orleans is great. Your first time?”
“Yes.” Victoria took a deep breath. She paused as other tourists passed by, a large group of them, holding their drinks. She'd had one of those already, a pineapple slush spiked with the “happy stuff.” Something about all of this made her want to call him. Good music. Good news. Watching Oliver and Haley be so brave. It all made her feel vulnerable. “Nathan, I'm really sorry.”
“Are you breaking up with me, babe?” It was a joke. She knew the way he spoke now, so casual about that kind of thing. Yet he meant it, but not in a way that put pressure on her. “Because it's almost our anniversary.”
“Nathan, please.” She wasn't in a jokey mood. “I really am sorry about how I've been treating you.”
Silence on the other end. Then, “Victoria, you know you don't owe me anything. Apologies included.”
“I just wanted to say it.” She heard her voice crack. Damn the “happy stuff.” It was failing her. “I don't know why you're still in touch. You should have given up on me by now.”
“Do you want me to stop?”
“No.”
That was all she had. The urge to call brought her to that point and no further. She wasn't sure how to articulate the rest.
What do you want, Victoria?
To not be afraid of this. Why couldn’t she just do that?
“You're tired and drunk with jazz,” Nathan said. “Let's talk tomorrow. Are you staying in the French Quarter?”
“Yeah...”
“When you wake up, head over to the Café Du Monde for breakfast. Get a beignet and an orange juice. We can talk after.”
“Nathan, I feel like I haven't said...”
“Not when you're like this, Victoria. Get some sleep. We'll talk tomorrow.”
Chapter 14
His first dive on his second visit to Mexico.
The morning he decided that he was going to take time off instead of going straight to work on the year he graduated.
He was trying to recall the times when he felt that things were perfectly timed. When something felt right and actually was. Nathan wasn't a fan of going by his gut. He didn't have the gene for it. But those few times, he could almost get why other people would live that way. It was a rush.
That feeling, again, when he saw Victoria walk up to Café Du Monde. Her face was alert, cautious as she crossed the street. He was on that very same curb, there on Decatur Street, partially obscured by the white columns that lined the sidewalk, but he knew she wasn’t going to notice. The café was busy, the air smelled like fried dough, there was conversation and music and countless other distractions.
Nathan was glad he took a chance and got there insanely early. She was an early riser, even after a late night. He was glad that she actually did what he said. He would do that, tell her where to eat and what to do if she happened to visiting a place he'd gone to. He wasn't sure she ever really tried. Maybe she just needed an excuse to text or email.
But she was getting a beignet bright and early, like he asked her to.
Victoria was trying to gather her bearings. First she looked around the outdoor dining area for a seat, saw several unoccupied tables, and then went inside and lined up at the counter.
He called her phone.
“Orange juice,” he said before she could say anything else. “Not the hot chocolate. Were you thinking of getting the hot chocolate?”
Nathan saw her whip her head around, surprised.
“I was thinking of getting that, but are you here? Are you watching me, Nathan?”
“I've been in New Orleans since yesterday.”
“Chris?”
Nathan frowned. “Chris told me you were both going to be here, but I'm not letting him take credit. I was hoping to surprise you. Didn't expect you to call me last night.”
“Where are you…? We shouldn’t be on the phone.”
“I don’t know, Victoria. Let’s do it this way a little longer. You seem less afraid of me when it’s like this.”
She had let someone else get ahead of her on the beignet queue, but she had also stopped trying to find him in the crowd. “That’s not true.”
“Isn’t it?”
“I’ve been busy.”
“We’ve both been busy, so what? I kept trying to do it my way, kept trying to ask you out. Thought some consistency and persistence would pay off. But you don’t respond to it.”
“I already told you that I feel like crap about that.”
“Hang on a sec. I’m not blaming you for anything. This is my fault too, for thinking you would respond the way I expected you to. You would know better. I started thinking of how you’d organize this, Victoria.”
“Organize what?”
“The next time we fuck each other senseless.”
Through the glass he saw her buckle, reaching for someone’s chair to steady herself. “Nathan.”
“It can’t be in Houston, obviously. That’s too big a step. We’ve talked plenty, but not about that, not where anyone who knows us can see. So it had to be somewhere no one knows us. Chris told me about this, and it didn’t matter what else I had to do, I was going to be here. Just in case. I have an entire day planned for us, if you want it. I know what to do in this town.”
“Nathan…”
“I didn’t expect that call last night though.”
“I felt I really needed to do that.”
“So that kind of throws a wrench into the plans I had today. I was planning to sell it, thought it would totally surpr
ise you. But maybe you have other things in mind. Maybe you won’t appreciate someone else planning your day like this. So I’ve thrown out the plan, Victoria.”
“Wait…what? I don’t even know what it is yet.”
“Does it matter, the details? Do you want me to email you an itinerary you’ll approve? No, Victoria, we won’t do it that way. This has to be something we both want. Not something you can do when you think you can hide it. I think we both had enough time to think about why this could work and why it couldn't. You take me up on my offer now and that's it—we don't leave it here. We take it back home. I get to see you and touch you and do whatever the fuck pleases us. None of this shit.”
As soon as he said it, the feeling came over him. Victoria's best friend was right. A chance was the wrong thing to ask for. He had to go for it, articulate it. It was difficult enough to find the words, all for a woman who might think he wasn't worth it. This was the very thing he was trying to avoid, and he had walked right into it. Jumped. Fallen.
“Show yourself,” she said. “I don’t want to say more into a phone.”
Revealing himself was a simple matter of stepping into her line of sight and waving. She shook her head and dropped her phone in her bag.
Somewhat annoyed, but still beautiful.
Then they were both out on the curb, in the same space after almost a year. He hoped it wouldn’t feel different, that he hadn’t just thrown himself into a dream that would dissolve as he awoke.
The feeling instead was growing, securing itself right in his core.
“What was the rule you had?” he asked her. “What's the rule you had that you broke in Mexico?”
Tempting Victoria Page 7
