Made to Love

by Medina, Heidi

  My stomach was a mass of jumbled nerves. I closed my eyes as I waited for the elevator to reach my floor. I had started preparations for the J&J rough draft immediately upon arriving home from the Hamptons on Sunday, but still felt as if I could have used another week. It didn’t help that Nathan was never far from my mind. I hadn’t seen him since he’d had me against the wall in his parent’s house, and I burned with embarrassment and anger when I thought about it. Embarrassment because, had I been so horny and hot for Nathan Preston that I’d practically begged him to take me right there in that hallway, allowing him to give me the most mind blowing orgasm I’d ever had in less than a minute?

  And anger, because really. I had been so horny and hot for Nathan Preston that I had a sneaking suspicion that I truly did beg him to take me right there in that hallway, and then allowed him to give me the most mind blowing orgasm of my life in less than a minute.

  I really couldn’t continue this. I had a big day ahead of me. Bailey had forwarded the rough draft proposal to Roger Preston yesterday as planned, and the only response had been an invite to today’s ‘touch base’ via his secretary. That was it; nothing to indicate if he had been pleased with what I had written up or if he’d laughed at what he considered my poor attempts to impress. I wasn’t sure what to make of it. I didn’t know if I should be confident that I had been asked to join this meeting, or nervous that Mr. Preston had seized the opportunity to shred my proposal—and me along with it—in front of a roomful of people. I should be solely focused on winning over Roger Preston, and proving to him that I was worthy of being employed at Elite. The fact that I couldn’t stop thinking about his son, if I was honest with myself, both excited and infuriated me.

  I had to get over this ridiculous attraction. This was me, Reagan Andrews. I didn’t let people like Nathan in, and had carefully erected walls around my heart to avoid that very thing. I had become a master at avoidance and non-commitment. So if some hotshot in a suit thought he could tear down walls years in the making just with one make-out session, he was sorely mistaken.

  The elevator dinged, and the doors opened, ending my mental tirade. Taking a deep breath, I stepped off the elevator and was met by Brooke. Taking in my pale face, she squeezed my arm sympathetically. “You look great, hon. Relax, you’ll be fine.”

  I didn’t reply as I followed her down the hall to the conference room, barely listening to her explain about how to work the slide presentation. I felt familiar cold prickles of sweat bead on my forehead, and a slight buzzing in my ears, and wanted to cry.

  Not now, please!

  I entered the conference room behind Brooke and immediately connected with a familiar face. Nathan smiled at me with a slight nod of his head, and just like that, my impending anxiety attack faded.

  I could do this. Whatever I was here for, I was prepared, and could handle it. I gave him a small smile in return and discreetly took in the rest of the room’s occupants. Roger Preston, of course, was there, talking with a few of the same members of the finance team who’d been at the last meeting. I pulled out my copies of the proposal as my gaze shifted to the lone gentleman seated at the far right of the table. My stomach did a somersault as I recognized his face.

  What was he doing here?

  I retreated to my office and closed the door. The last two hours had been excruciating. I had apparently missed the memo indicating Royce Johnson, of the Johnson and Johnson Corporation, would be present at the meeting. Bailey had apologized profusely, saying he hadn’t been aware either so it had apparently been a last minute addition. I wasn’t given much time to dwell on his presence though, because Roger Preston had immediately requested I present the proposal myself to the group. Yeah, thanks for the heads up, dude.

  I had fielded a few questions from Royce Johnson at the end, and overall, felt as if I had held my own. Never mind the clammy hands and upset stomach I had sported the entire time. Royce seemed to be pleased, although I had been given nothing more than a ‘Thank you’ and a smile before being dismissed. But I hadn’t been fired on the spot so, all in all, not bad. I had left the meeting before the others so I was still left a little uncertain about the final outcome, but Nathan had winked as I had passed him on the way out, which I had taken as a good sign. Then again, that could’ve been his attempt at flirting and have had nothing to do with the Johnson and Johnson account whatsoever. Which was the more likely.

  I sighed as I thought of him. I hadn’t seen him since Saturday night when I had ran from the hallway. I had stayed in my room as long as I was able to, and would have stayed there all night had Brooke not pounded on my door after a few hours, insisting we go down for the fireworks. Thankfully, or sadly, depending on how I chose to view it, Nathan hadn’t been anywhere in sight. After the fireworks, I had made some lame excuse and retreated to my room. The following morning I had begged Brooke to leave as soon as we could, using my proposal as an excuse, but knowing I was avoiding Nathan.

  And I didn’t really have an explanation for why I was doing it. Avoiding him. At least not an explanation I was willing to explore anyway. Guys in general, and sex? It wasn’t like I hadn’t had experience with both. But physical attraction aside, I didn’t want to be bothered with things like holding hands, talking about my day, or the whole candy, flowers and long walks in the park thing. I never let someone get too close, and the minute some guy started hinting at the future, or about meeting his parents, I was out.

  But Nathan was different. He made me feel things no one else had before. Crazy, I know. I barely knew the man. But it was there, nonetheless. I had a suspicion that should we ever become involved, things would be neither casual nor light, and that my efforts to keep him at arms-length would be unsuccessful, and that scared me.

  Yesterday I had spent all day on eggshells, holding my breath every time the elevator doors opened, but I left at the end of the day without having seen him. A small part of me had been secretly hoping he would want to see me after what had transpired between us, but apparently not.

  Which I supposed was for the best, anyway. It wasn’t like I was seeking him out either.

  I glanced at the clock, wondering if he was still closeted away with his father and Royce Johnson. I was dying to know what they had decided. Figuring Bailey would be around as soon as there was word, I was just beginning to filter through email when I heard a knock on my door. I glanced up to see Nathan himself standing in my doorway, a slight smile on his face. I ignored the tiny flip flop in my heart and cursed it for its weakness.

  “Hi,” I said by way of greeting.

  “Hi, back.” He walked in, closing the door behind him, and crossed the distance from door to desk in three strides to slide into one of my office chairs. I pretended not to notice how his shirt flattened against his stomach as he appeared to settle in for a lengthy chat.

  I wondered if I should mention the door. I didn’t need anyone thinking I was having a tryst with the boss’s son on my desk. Although--

  “Reagan, you did an amazing job this morning,” he said, interrupting my daydream of papers flying as Nathan flung them off my desk and threw me on it.

  I fidgeted with a pen on my desk, hoping my flushed cheeks could be excused as relief. It was about time someone had filled me in. “Thank you. I appreciate that.”

  “Royce, Dad, pretty much everyone was impressed.” He threw his arm over the back of the chair and I swallowed hard as the action only defined his sculpted arm. I went back to fidgeting with my pen. At what point would we talk about what happened at the Hamptons? “We should celebrate.”

  I glanced up at him. “Celebrate?” This I had not expected.

  “Dinner. Tonight.” Nathan announced.

  Oh. My. God.

  “Dinner?” Why was I repeating his every word? I sounded like an imbecile. I tried again. “Thank you, but I don’t think so,” I finally declined. I needed to set some boundaries.

  “Is it dinner you are opposed to, or me? Because if it’s the former, I’m
fine with just drinks. Although, I am starving,” he quipped. There was a moment of silence as neither of us spoke, and then he leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “If it’s the latter, well then. The Hamptons was. . .fun. But I may have been a bit. . .carried away and for that I apologize. It won’t happen again. Unless you want it to, and in that case—“He stopped and leaned further over my desk, slowly extracting the pen from my prying fingers. Having nothing to distract me, I finally looked up at him. “Look. It’s just drinks. You did a good job, and I’m just trying to say thank you. Promise.” He gave me a lopsided grin.

  No, things with this man would never be simple. I knew it, as sure as I knew that I was about to say to hell with all my misgivings.

  “Fine. One drink, but that’s it.”

  Nathan stood and headed back for the door. “Excellent. Meet me in the lobby at six?” He winked and left my office before I could reply.

  All the reasons I should have declined—and they were many—flooded my mind the minute he was gone, but I squelched them down, determined to ignore them.

  Nathan was handsome, charming. He wanted to celebrate a job well done. With me.

  It was one drink.

  So despite my concerns, I was going to enjoy it.

  Nathan

  I walked back to my office, hoping the smile on my face didn’t make me look like a complete idiot. I don’t know what I had expected when I’d walked into Reagan’s office, so I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t been slightly surprised when she’d agreed to have a drink with me. I was certain she’d see through my lame attempt at apologizing for what had happened last weekend, because truth be told, I wasn’t sorry. Not in the slightest. Did I wish that our first kiss hadn’t happened in a darkened hallway in the upstairs of my parents’ summer home, like we were two teenagers making out on the sly? Of course. But this was a woman who had captured my attention the moment I had stepped onto an elevator with her just one week ago. My attraction to her was unexplainable, yet certainly undeniable. Making out with her had been the only good thing to come of that weekend. And I couldn’t bring myself to feel sorry for that.

  But if my half-hearted apology had been key to her acceptance, then so be it. I wasn’t going to dwell on the why’s of it and instead was going to make the most of the opportunity I was now presented with.

  My good mood dissipated immediately upon entering my office.

  “Mom, what brings you here?” I kissed her cheek as I moved to the back of my desk, removing my jacket and hanging it up. I covertly glanced at the sidebar in my office, but nothing appeared out of place.

  Mom rarely made an appearance at the office, and I couldn’t help but wonder if my father’s travel plans had anything to do with why she was unexpectedly here. Not that he ever cleared things with her first. I sat down, choosing to approach what I hoped would only be a few minutes with caution. It wasn’t that I didn’t love my mother. I did. But interactions with her always ended up in a walk down memory lane, and I’d walked that path so many times over the last two years, I was more than weary of the journey. I could only handle so much.

  “Hi, honey. Sorry to intrude; Nancy showed me in. I was heading home from my meeting with the charity league and thought I would stop in to see what your plans were this weekend.” She fidgeted nervously with the strap of her Chanel bag, diamonds glittering on her fingers. I knew full well that my weekend plans were the least of her concerns. She would simply call about something that mundane. As she continued to stare out the window, refusing to meet my gaze, it dawned on me that not only was she completely aware of Dad’s upcoming trip, she was also aware of the milestone coming next week. She didn’t want to be alone.

  I dragged a hand through my hair as I got up, walked around to where she sat, and leaned against the edge of my desk. She was hanging on by a mere thread, and I needed to get her out of here.

  “At the moment, I have nothing planned. Did you want to get together?”

  She sighed, moving a shaking hand up to her hair as if she was trying to make sure everything was in place. “That would be nice. Your father is going to be out of the country you know,” this said with a quick glance my way, “and next week . . . well, it’s just lonely.” Her lips trembled as she clamped them shut.

  This was not the woman I grew up with. Katherine Preston had been a force to be reckoned with as the powerhouse wife of Roger Preston. She would fight for better textbooks at our school, write a check for the new library, organize charity events for the needy, take us to the park and kiss our scratched knees, and still manage to look the picture of perfection on my father’s arm on his corporate rise to fame. It was hard to reconcile that woman with the weak, fragile alcoholic that sat before me now. Thomas had happened to all of us, yet while Dad buried himself in business and if I wasn’t mistaken other women, refusing to acknowledge his wife’s drinking, I was always left to deal with what had become of my mother in the aftermath.

  I leaned down and hugged her. “Mother, why don’t we have dinner Saturday evening? It will be good to spend some time together,” I told her. She buried her face in my shoulder and began to quietly cry. I could smell the alcohol she had presumably consumed at the charity league brunch, and clenched my jaw. Mom wasn’t a beer slinger; no, she was much too sophisticated for that. Champagne and orange juice at breakfast, followed by wine until lunch. Then to make sure she was completely numb from head to toe, it was coffee and Baileys until she could finish off with her good friend Jack right before bed. I wanted to shake her, knock some sense into her, and tell her to stop acting like a child. She was not only embarrassing herself, but what was left of her family. Tell her that Thomas’s death had been hard on us all, but we had managed to somehow pull through, changed, yes, but still here. Tell her for all the guilt she had over her son’s death, she had climbed in bed with the very thing that had killed him.

  But I said none of these things, and simply held her tighter while she cried. Several moments passed in silence before she leaned back and wiped her eyes. “I’ve taken enough of your time, Nathan. I apologize. It’s just been so hard since Thomas.” She dapped at her eyes where mascara had begun to run, and I quickly fished out a handkerchief from my pocket.

  I released her and stood. Any mention of Thomas typically preluded that memory walk, and I honestly did not want to do this now. Talking about my brother accomplished nothing. What was the point? “Mom, I have a meeting in a few minutes,” I lied, telling my conscience to go to hell. “Take all the time you need, but I need to go.”

  She collected herself and stood, heading toward the door. “Oh, don’t worry about me, Nathan. I need to be going as well. Do please call me about Saturday; I look forward to it.”

  I walked her to the lobby, denying myself the pleasure of escorting her to the thirteenth floor and forcing my father to deal with it. He wouldn’t though, and it would be Brooke who would have to feed her some bullshit excuse for why he couldn’t see her. That wasn’t fair to anyone involved and I couldn’t bring myself to do it.

  I was all she had left, and I didn’t know how I felt about that. I watched until her driver assisted her into the car and then turned away, pressing the heels of my hands to my eyes to stop the sudden burning there.

  How had it come to this?

  Chapter Nine

  Nathan

  I leaned back in my seat, gazing at Reagan as she sipped her wine. I had brought her to Ayza, and after ordering drinks and an assortment of appetizers, we had chatted mundanely about work. I could tell the wine and chocolate bar was a new experience for her, and after being seated and seeing how busy the place was, she had seemed ready to bolt. But now, I think she was calming down. Whether that was from the wine or because she had figured a night out with me wasn’t that bad, I didn’t care. She was here; a breath of fresh air after the shitty day I had had. After seeing my mother off, I had left to go blow off some steam at the gym rather than return to my office. Guilt had besieged me as I berated my
self for how I had handled things with her. I should have listened to her, let her get it out of her system for yet another time, and personally seen her home. No, what I should have done was marched her up to her husband and forced him to see to her. That was half the problem with this family; we were masters at avoidance. If we didn’t talk about it, it didn’t exist. Myself included. There was so much we needed to deal with, to air openly, to heal from, but instead we chose to pretend nothing was wrong. We’d been doing it for two years now, and I didn’t know if we would ever be able to find our way back from it. I was just so tired of it all.

  My brows furrowed slightly as I willed my mind to clear of the day’s events and focus solely on the woman across from me. She deserved my undivided attention. “Tell me about yourself,” I suggested as I stretched an arm across the back of the seat.

  She swallowed, and gave a nervous laugh. Shit. I didn’t want her to be nervous with me. “What do you want to know?”