by Tasha Fawkes
She probably can’t wait to see the back of me.
After my run, I go home and take a shower.
I stand under the hot stream of water, trying to figure out what my next move is. I can't get it out of my head, that seducing her might be an option. God, that sounds so cold and calculated. It doesn't sit well with me, but neither does losing my foundation.
I get out dry myself off and then I get dressed. My hands shake as I pick up the phone and scroll down to her name. I stare at it for a moment. Am I really going to do this? Because it feels like the kind of thing I have to continue once I start. Just relax. All you’re doing is asking her out to dinner. No pressure, just see how things go. I press call before I can change my mind.
“Hi, Angela,” I say. “It's me, Nate.”
“Nate,” she says sounding guarded. “Hi. Sorry about the coffee earlier. I, uh, something came up…”
I cringe because I already know this is not going go well.
“Sure. No problem. I was wondering if you’d want to join me for dinner,” I say, running my hand through my hair. I feel stupid even asking her and I’m convinced she’s going to say no.
“Sure,” she says. She sounds as surprised about my asking as I am to hear her say yes.
“Okay, great,” I say. “I’ll pick you up in an hour.”
I hang up the phone and frown as I stare at the call log on the screen.
Holy shit. I’m actually excited about this…
Chapter 10
Angela
I stare at the phone and shake my head, because I’m not sure what to make of Nate’s call. Why is he asking me out? And is this a date, or is it just another attempt to sway my opinion of the foundation? I shake my head. Of course that’s the reason. People generally don’t ask people they hate out on dates. Why would I even think that’s what this is?
I go and get ready, aware that he’ll be here soon to pick me up. Why is he picking me up if this is not a date? Angela. For God’s sake, stop it. All I am doing is setting myself up to be hurt. I push all things non work related from my mind, so I can finish getting ready.
After a quick shower, I shiver as I stand in front of my closet, looking for something to wear. I wish I hadn’t wasted my sexiest choice on the other night. Then again, that will probably send the wrong message.
Or the right one?
I sift through dress after dress, until I find something that’s sexy, without being too sexy. The last thing I want to do is sit through a dinner, looking like I thought it was a date when he just wants to talk business, but at the same time, I don’t want to look like I was on my way to church when he called. I slip the dress over my head and let it fall over my curves, then I zip it up.
I stand in front of the mirror and study my reflection. I nod, happy with how I look. A layer of mascara and a dab of lip gloss and some gentle curls to frame my face, and I’m done. I grab my purse and phone, and then wait for him to pick me up.
My excitement slowly begins to build with every passing second, as much as I try to contain it. Butterflies fill my stomach. I’m already nervous as hell without considering how much I like him. I’m as nervous as I would be if this were a real date. Last night doesn’t count, especially since I regret it. It doesn’t help things that my main reason for regretting it is because it wasn’t with Nate. That was such a dangerous thing to admit, especially right before going out with him. I shake my head. Since when do I actually want a relationship anyway? All they do is tie you down and that's not what I need right now. I need to focus on my career and put that ahead of everything else, including my heart.
Because that approach has done so well for me to this point.
It doesn’t matter, because the last thing our relationship needs right now is more complication. I nearly laugh. I really believed that, I would have insisted on meeting him somewhere safe, like his office, instead of agreeing to go to dinner with him.
The doorbell rings, startling me. I breathe out, and then I take one last glance at myself in the hallway mirror and then open the door. Nate stands there, smiling at me. He’s the picture of sexy and unlike me, he looks completely calm and collected. There is no sign of nerves in his face at all.
Probably because nowhere in his mind is this a date.
“Hey,” he says. He gaze is intense as it moves over me. “You look gorgeous.”
His complement sends my heart into a frenzy. I smile shyly, then I step outside and lock the door, throwing my keys into my purse. His fingers brush past mine as we walk to his car and I find myself wondering what it would be like to hold his hand, which leads me to wonder how it would feel kissing him. I stop myself right there, because I know what’s next, and if I get that image in my head, I’ll never get it out.
We reach his car, and he opens my door, waiting until I slide onto the seat before he shuts it. He smiles at me as he gets in his side, his eyes inadvertently falling to my bare thigh. I shiver and place my hands in my lap, trying to ignore the rush of anticipation that is surging through me, because all I can think about now is him touching me.
“So, where are we going?” I ask, my voice more high pitched than normal.
“I booked us a table at Rivera’s,” he says, glancing at me. Then he looks concerned, his forehead creasing. “I hope you like Italian.”
“I love it,” I say.
At this point, I’d claim to love it, even if I hated it.
“Good.” He nods, looking content.
We drive there in silence. I have no idea why he’s not talking, but I’m too busy trying to not make it obvious that I like him. I have it all; the shaking hands, sweaty palms, the pounding heart…it’s only a matter of time before he notices I’m a mess. We pull up outside the restaurant precinct in town and into a parking spot right out in front of the restaurant. I get out before he can open the door for me again, because the last thing I want to give is my mind another reason to consider this a date. He finally joins me on the sidewalk and smiles.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
“Sure,” I say, smiling like an idiot. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
He studies me for a moment, then he nods and takes my arm, leading me over to the entrance of the restaurant.
“Here we are.” He murmurs.
I shiver as he places his hand on my back. Somehow, I follow him over to our table without making it obvious that I’m freaking out. What the fuck is wrong with me? I’m totally losing the plot. I sit down and place my napkin in my lap, trying to think of something to say that isn’t a reminder as to why I’m here.
“You're awfully quiet.” He comments once we’re seated. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yes, I’m fine,” I mutter. I feel my face heat up. “Sorry, lost in thought I guess...and wondering why you asked me out tonight. I got the feeling I was possibly your least favorite person in the world.”
His makes a face, then his expression grows serious.
“Look, Angela, I owe an apology,” he says.
“Really?”
I was not expecting to hear that.
He nods. “I’ve been such an ass to you. The thing is, I know you're right and I know you're just doing what you need to do. I shouldn’t be taking the anger I’m feeling toward my grandfather, out on you. That's not fair of me.” He stops, long enough to look me in the eye. “I'm going to do my best to not treat you like that anymore.”
I stare at him for a moment. I can't believe those words just came out of his mouth.
“Thank you.” I finally say. I’m taken aback and not sure how to respond. “I appreciate your apology, I really do. Did you ever get along?” I ask after a moment. “You and your grandfather?”
He stares at me, surprised and then shakes his head.
“God no. My grandfather didn’t get along with anyone, but least of all, me. I did my best to steer clear of him and he hated me for it. You met him. What were your thoughts on him?”
I thought about that for a moment.
“He seemed like a hard man, But he was nice to me. I know that doesn’t really mean much though. People can put on a face in front of others and be totally different people behind closed doors.”
Nate nods. “That was him alright. He was a proud man and he liked that he had the respect of everyone around him. The people that really knew him though…” His voice trails off. “He wasn’t a kind man, especially to those he supposedly loved. He hurt a lot of people and god, did he hold a grudge.”
“Yes, I’m getting that,” I say, feeling sorry for Nate and his family.
“But, I’m not here to talk about him,” Nate says slowly.
I nod, convinced that I know where this is heading.
“You want to talk about my recommendations.” I guess.
He shakes his head.
“Actually, no. I was hoping we could avoid talking about anything business related. I didn't ask you out to try and change your mind, Angela.” He adds, his dark eyes firmly on mine. A shiver races through me. If we’re not here to talk business…
“Then why are we here?” I ask with a frown.
He shrugs. “Because you're new in the city and I feel bad for being such an asshole to you. I thought you could use a night out.”
I roll my eyes as things suddenly began making sense.
“Ah, so this is a pity date. Gee, thanks,” I say with a laugh.
“No, that’s not what I meant at all.” He chuckles and shakes his head. “In case I haven’t made it blatantly obvious, I'm not really good with the whole asking people out thing,” he mutters. He runs his hand through his hair and then glances at me, hesitation in his eyes. “I just thought the process of us working together might be easier if I got to know you better.”
I stare at him for a long time, before deciding he's genuine. He really wants to get to know me…I shiver at the thought.
“Okay,” I say, after a moment. “I'll play along.”
“You make it sound like a game,” he says.
I shrug. “Isn’t every relationship essentially a game?” I ask. “Only we play some better than others.”
“I guess,” he says after thinking about it. “So tell me something about you,” he says.
I think for a moment. The one thing that stands out is my medical history, but that isn’t exactly light dinner conversation. Especially first date conversation. If that’s what this is.
“And just like that, you’ve made me realize how boring I am.” I joke.
“Oh, come on. There has to be something,” he says.
We talk through dinner, the conversation flowing much more freely than I thought it would. The more I get to know him, the more I warm to him. If I didn’t like him before, I certainly do now. He's not only passionate and emotional, he’s also funny and witty—when he's not on the defensive all the time. We also have more in common than I initially thought.
“I can't believe you like judo,” I say with a laugh.
“Junior champ two years running,” he says, nodding his head. “It’s not a common choice when it comes to fitness.” He adds.
“I like anything where can use my strength,” I explain. “I think it’s because I felt so helpless as a kid.”
“What do you mean?” he asks.
“I was sick a lot.” I murmur.
“I'm sorry to hear that,” he says.
I shrug. “It's okay. It was hard, but I coped. I'm still alive,” I say, attempting a joke.
He pauses for a moment, before his eyes level on mine.
“Is that why you reacted like you did? At the center?” I glance down, my grip on the dessert menu tightening. Then I nod. “I'm sorry,” he says after a moment.
“You don't need to be—”
“I do,” he says, cutting me off. “I asked you there to try and get a reaction out of you. I didn't mean for it to cut you so deep, though,” he mutters.
“It's okay. You couldn't have known.”
“Maybe, but I still feel bad,” he says.
I have to admit, I like hearing that he has a conscious.
After we finish our dessert, we walk out to the car. Neither of us has said much in a while and the drive home isn’t much different. I'm quiet, mostly because I'm staring out the window lost in thought. He pulls up outside my apartment, and then gets out. I smile as he walks around to my side and opens the door for me.
“That’s very gentlemanly of you.” I tease.
He laughs. “Yeah, well, believe it or not, I can be a nice guy occasionally.”
“I had a really nice time,” I say when we reach my door.
He smiles at me. “Me too.”
We stand there for a moment, staring at each other, then he leans closer to kiss me. He goes for my cheek, but I panic and turn my head. When his lips touch mine, I’m in shock and so is he, but then his fingers grasp the sides of my face as the kiss deepens. My heart races as he caresses my neck, while pressing his mouth against mine. I reach up and touch his face, while his mouth explores mine. Then he pulls away and studies me. There’s no regret or anything in his expression. I smile and look down, feeling shy.
“Goodnight Angela,” he says, his lips lifting into a smirk.
“Night,” I say.
He walks down the steps and back over to his car. I wait until he’s inside before I unlock my door. I’m feeling happier than I have in a long time and I’m pretty sure that kiss has a lot to do with it. I text Shana to tell her about my date with Nate, she insists on calling me for all the details.
“A date?” she demands. “With Nate? Why the hell wouldn’t you tell me that? So, dinner was…?”
I laugh at how direct she is. It’s one of the things I like about her.
“It was nice,” I say, finally able to get a word in. I bite my lip to hold back my laughter when she snorts.
“Nice? Socks from your grandma on your birthday are nice.” She grumbles. “Give me more than that, please.”
“Fine. We kissed, and it was amazing,” I say.
She gasps, her eyes lighting up. “That’s more like it,” she says. “And how was it?”
“It was pretty damn good,” I admit with a grin. “Actually, it was amazing.”
She squeals so loudly that I laugh and hold the phone away from my ear.
“But it’s probably not a great idea to get involved with him,” I say, bringing myself back down to reality.
“Why not?” she asks. “You can mix business and pleasure, you know. Look at me and Charlene.” She points out.
“Maybe,” I say. But I know I’m kidding myself if I think this can work. Nate and I are different to Shana and Rex, or Charlene and Matt.
Because I’m here to destroy his life.
Chapter 11
Nate
Three dates in a row with Angela. Not even I had been expecting that. I glance at my reflection in the mirror as I tighten the tie around my neck. Another night, another date with Angela, our third in a row. I’m not sure how I feel about it yet. I’m not sure who I’m fooling either, whether it’s her, or myself. Am I tricking her into thinking I like her or tricking myself into believing that I don’t?
I shake my head, the thought too complex to get my mind around at the moment. This might have started out as a last ditched effort to try and sway her opinion on the center, but the more time we spend together, the more I think my feelings might be genuine. Maybe I’m really starting to like her. Maybe I’ve liked her all along.
When I first met her, she was the woman who was here to take everything from me, but that wasn’t her fault. It was my grandfathers. She was just doing her job, but all I could see was what she wanted to take from me. Maybe I should’ve been focusing on what she can give me. I shake my head, because that’s a sure fire way to make sure I’m the one who ends up hurt.
I grab my keys and my wallet and then walk to the door. As I pass the hallway mirror, I give once last glance at my reflection, and then I walk out.
I pull up outside Angela’s house and
walk up to her door. I take a moment before knocking on it, because I don’t want her to see anything in me that might make her wonder if this is genuine. I breathe out, then shake my hands. Just take her out, have a nice time and don’t try and label what this is. I nod, feeling confident. I can handle that. I reach for the doorbell and press down on it. When she opens the door and smiles at me, everything I’d been thinking up to this point evaporates. I don’t even know what to say, because she looks that stunning. I cough and shift on my feet, while she chuckles. She pushes a strand of hair away from her eyes,
“Wow,” I say, my eyes roaming over her body. “You look beautiful.”
“Thanks,” she says, her cheeks flushing pink. “So, where are we going tonight?” she asks, sliding her hand into mine.
Every night, I’ve taken her somewhere new.
“I thought we could go to this little bar I know. It's really cool. They play live music on a Thursday night.” She lets out a laugh. I look at her curiously. “What?”
“Nothing,” she says, smiling. “It's just Shana took me there last week.”
“Really,” I say, amused.
We walk inside the bar. I get our drinks, while Angela find us table. When I sit down, she’s busy scanning the room. She jumps when she turns back and sees me sitting there.
“Expecting someone else?” I tease her. She shakes her head. “Sorry, I’m just surprised at how busy it is.”
“And I’m surprised you got this table,” I admit.
She laughs. “I had to fight someone for it.”
I smile and look down at the table. I can’t get over how shy I suddenly feel. I’m not usually like this, but I can’t even make eye contact with her. She’s obviously noticing it too.
“You’re very quiet tonight.” She observes.
“I’m sorry. I’m just taken aback with how beautiful you look. When you opened the door, it really threw me.” I shake my head, because I can’t really explain it.
