Chapter Twelve
Nate woke face down on the bed, not in it. When he cracked an eye open, sunlight streamed into the room through the lanai door. It didn’t hurt too much, so he opened the other eye to check out his surroundings. He was still wearing his clothes, minus his shoes, and the covers hadn’t been disturbed at all, which meant Rae also hadn’t slept between them. She hadn’t come back from the party? She couldn’t still be there. He patted the comforter as if he could find her hiding underneath it. Ridiculous, but where the fuck was she?
The sound of the shower gave him the answer. She was here. Thank God.
He rolled over, sat up, and rubbed his face. All those cocktails. How many had he had? Three or four before dancing with Cassandra and more with her. His head ought to be pounding, but instead, it felt as if it was stuffed with cotton balls.
Rae emerged from the bathroom wearing a terry cloth robe and set a cup of hotel room coffee on the table next to him. “We don’t have any aspirin.”
“Don’t need it.” He took a sip of the coffee. Nothing great, but she’d made it strong. “Where did you sleep last night?”
“Still full of accusations?”
“It’s a reasonable question.”
She crossed her arms over her chest and gave him a look as if she smelled something bad. “On the floor by the lanai door.”
He glanced over and saw the bedding there. She had spent the night here, after all.
“I took one of the pillows from the bed and the spare blanket from the closet,” she said.
“Why?”
“You were passed out, and I didn’t care to find out what mood you’d be in if I woke you.”
“I see.”
She took a seat on the chair and crossed her legs. “Do you remember everything from last night?”
“You mean evening, right? I crashed pretty early.”
“Whatever you want to call it.”
He ran it all through his mind. Her instructions to circulate and not to hover over her. He wasn’t likely to forget that. Watching the game and the fact that had pissed her off for some reason. Then Cassandra and the dancing. Rae hadn’t noticed.
Finally, the scene in the hot tub. Surrounded by four? Six? How many men? Probably all naked. He’d busted it all up, and that had pissed her off, too. So much so that she hadn’t shouted but seethed.
Now she sat there, shaking her foot as if she had a wound-up ball of energy inside. Still angry, obviously. “You interrupted me while I was working.”
He took another sip of his coffee and set it aside. “You call that working?”
“If you’re Désirée Knight it is.”
He was getting pretty sick of Désirée Knight, but telling her that wouldn’t win him any prizes. Why hadn’t he’d just approached the shy woman in the coffee shop instead of accepting Désirée’s invitation to come here? Would he have avoided all this shit?
“Everything was going as planned until you showed up and performed your male dominance display,” she said.
“You’re exaggerating.”
“Demanding to know what I was doing. Shouting,” Her foot kept wiggling. “You’re aware I’ve written several columns on the dangers of jealousy, aren’t you?”
“I should be. I read everything you write.”
“Well, then?”
He wasn’t a jealous guy normally. What had happened the night before went way beyond normal. How would she have felt if he’d been in the hot tub with a bunch of naked women? No point asking her. She’d probably insist there was nothing wrong with it. And that really roiled his gut. “I guess this whole thing didn’t work out as well as we thought it would.”
She huffed. “You don’t have to do it much longer. A few interviews, and I’m through here.”
“But you have to write the article.”
“I can write at home.” She stared at him with no particular expression on her face. For Rae, that said a lot. She was usually laughing or waving her hands around. Excited or even angry. Never this coldness. It seeped into his bones from clear across the room.
He took a breath to steady himself. “Okay.”
“In the meantime, we need to make an appearance together to show everyone nothing has gone wrong.”
Easy for her to say. A lot of things had gone wrong, and there didn’t seem to be any way to fix them. “Whatever you say.”
“Are you going to be good enough to be with people?”
“I wasn’t that drunk,” he said.
“Then how about breakfast by the pool? That’s where the biggest crowds hang out.”
He shrugged. “Sure.”
She got up and went into the bathroom. No doubt to paint her face on. Nate took stock of himself. These clothes were wrinkled, but he had plenty more. He’d need a shave. Nothing out of the ordinary there. A hot shower and some better coffee would fix him up.
So this was it. A few more interviews. She’d finish with her work, and she’d finish with him. Maybe he’d been fooling himself the entire time thinking he meant something to her. She could so easily order him to cozy up to another woman. Even demand it of him. And then, she’d…crap…he still couldn’t form words for what could have been going on in the Baths.
She probably did all this stuff out of insecurity about being herself. She obviously felt she had to be Désirée with all the fixings for people to find her attractive. Total bullshit, but he couldn’t seem to convince her otherwise. He’d tried. Maybe it was a hopeless cause.
Oh, hell. His brain wasn’t functioning even at 90 percent. After his shower, he’d go search for some real coffee. Then he’d take a long walk and figure out where he went from here. One thing was obvious. He’d be walking out of her life, or she out of his. Probably for the best, but that didn’t mean it wouldn’t hurt. He only had to figure out a way to make the break as painless as possible. He’d lost a wife and his company and survived. He’d survive this, too.
…
Cassandra was, indeed, a trove of juicy quotes and great pictures. Rae sat with her and her husband, Rod, at a table beside the pool. She’d expected to have breakfast here with Nate, but he’d disappeared right after his shower. Who knew where he’d gone?
“So you two have an open marriage?” Rae asked.
“I like to keep my Cassandra happy.” Rod placed his hand on his wife’s thigh. Cassandra was wearing shorts, a tube top, and high-heeled sandals. She was tanned and coiffed and obviously in her element—namely, being adored.
“Did you two go into marriage with this arrangement or arrive at it later?” Rae asked.
“Rod knew I’d always fantasized about having two men at once, so one night on my birthday, he brought me home a present.”
“A nice, young man from our country club,” Rod added. “I knew he admired my wife.”
That was love, for sure. If she ever had a marriage…unlikely…she didn’t want to run it their way. But if it worked for them, who was she to condemn it?
“May I ask you something?” Rod said.
“Of course.”
“Your column is about being single,” he said. “Why are you interested in our marriage?”
Her brain sputtered to a stop. Good question. “Well…we’re here, and you two are interesting.”
“We don’t mind. It just seemed odd,” he said.
“This is a resort for couples, so it’s a little different from what I usually write.” There, that sounded good.
“And where’s Nate?” Rod said.
Cassandra put her elbow on the table and leaned her chin onto her palm. “Yes, where is your boyfriend?”
“He’s not my boyfriend. We just came here together for the article.”
“I’m here,” Nate’s voice said from behind her. By the time she’d turned, he’d arrived at the table. He didn’t touch her but pulled out a chair and sat beside her.
“Where did you go?” she asked.
“A walk.” He pasted a smile on his face. “The grounds are beautiful.”
He’d had enough time to circle the property two or three times.
“Am I disturbing anything?” he said.
“Not at all,” Cassandra answered in a rush.
“I don’t want to interrupt the boss when she’s working,” Nate said.
“I’m not your boss,” Rae said out of the side of her mouth.
“The woman is the boss in every relationship,” Nate chirped. “Aren’t I right, Rod?”
Rod lifted his coffee cup in a toast. “Secret to a happy marriage.”
“Nate, we’ve discussed this,” Rae said. With all the Ss in that sentence, it sounded like a hiss.
“So we did.” Nate laughed. Just as phony as his smile. “I’m just here for the week.”
“Sad,” Cassandra said.
“Isn’t it?” Nate said. “And even sadder, I have to cut the fun short.”
“You’re not leaving,” Cassandra said.
“I had a call from the office. I’m needed at work.”
Rae could only gape at him. He didn’t have an office. His former father-in-law owned his company. He was between assignments. They didn’t have much time left together, but she’d expected a little bit to try to work things out after their arguments. They shouldn’t part with bad blood between them.
Nate rose. “I’d better go pack.”
“Wait,” Rae said.
He bent and planted a kiss on the top of her head. “It’s been great fun. We should do it again some time.”
Then he walked off, whistling of all things. What in the hell was he up to now?
She closed her pad and gathered up all her things. “We’ll continue later.”
“Of course,” Rod said. “I’m sure you’ll want to say goodbye to Nate.”
Yeah, goodbye or something like that. She didn’t wait for any more pleasantries but headed off toward their room. The landscape went by in a blur, but at least she didn’t have to wait for any elevators. Once there, she fumbled in her pocket for her room key and then let herself in.
He was, indeed, packing. He had his suitcase and duffel on the bed and was halfway between them and the dresser with some clothes in his hand. He only stopped for a second when he saw her and went back to work.
“Are you really that angry with me?” she asked.
“I was. Furious.”
“And now?”
“Now I’m sad more than anything else.” He held his arms out to his sides. “We might not have been forming a relationship, but at least, I thought we could be friends.”
You couldn’t be friends with someone who was always trying to control you. But resolving that issue would take time and work on both their parts. If he stayed, maybe they could lay out some ground rules. Instead, he was going to go away angry.
“You don’t have to leave.”
“Oh, there you’re wrong.” He went back to the dresser and grabbed some more clothing. “If you’re not going to trust me, I really do.”
“How is this a matter of trust?”
“You feel you have to orchestrate everything I do.” He stuffed the clothes into his duffel in one big bunch. “You can’t trust that maybe I have your best interests at heart, and if you let me do my own thing, I might be of some help to you.”
“I’m sorry. You just were acting like…” Bad train of thought there. “There are patterns…I’ve watched…”
“Bad male behavior. I know.” He spread his arms out again. “For christsake, you trusted me with your body, Rae.”
“You don’t have to sound preachy about it.”
“Yeah. Single and Sexy.” He huffed. “Sounds good on the surface. Is that all you’re ever going to want?”
As if she hadn’t asked herself that same question hundreds or thousands of times. “It’s all I’m going to have.”
“For God’s sake, why?”
“I’ll tell you if you stop packing for a minute.”
He dropped his latest batch of clothes in the suitcase. “Deal.”
He didn’t sit or invite her to, so she set her stuff on the desk and stood there.
“What most people don’t understand is that sort of relationship isn’t all beatings. It’s controlling behavior. You have to dress a certain way or he’ll get angry. You can only do the things he wants to do, go the places he wants to go.” She ran her hand over her face, probably smearing her makeup. “I watched my mother try to please man after man. Impossible, no matter how she tried.”
“What does all this have to do with the two of us?” he asked.
“You’ve been trying to control me since we got here,” she said. “Remember the stilettos and the bustier?”
“You were adorable in those, and you got great pictures for your article.”
“But it wasn’t my choice.”
He looked utterly flummoxed by that, as if he truly couldn’t understand that his gift had also been a dare. Sure, she’d won that battle by taking his dare and one-upping it, but why had they had to fight at all?
“Let me explain something to you.”
He put his hands on his hips. “Shoot.”
“I met the people we watched in the Theater. James and Laura.”
“And…”
“He was in total control of her. I couldn’t even tell if she really liked ‘performing,’ as they called it,” she said. “She seemed to do it to please him.”
His jaw dropped. “Looked like you enjoyed what we did, or were you just faking it?”
“No, I wasn’t faking it.” Good Lord in heaven. “You’re missing the point.”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “Then, what is the point?”
“The point is I’ve seen too many men control ‘their women,’” she said. “I’m not going to be one of them.”
“I don’t try to control you.”
Had he not listened at all for the last few minutes? “You keep fighting me about being Désirée. That is who I am, you know. It’s not a made-up name for the public.”
“But it isn’t you. You’re Rae, who’s funny and warm and likes to eat microwave popcorn while watching bad horror movies.”
“I’m all those things and the Désirée who writes the column. That’s my career. It’s important to me.”
“But you have to wear a costume and play a part.”
“Lots of people do that for their work.”
After a moment, he blew out a frustrated breath. “Oh, hell. Why am I even trying?”
She might as well ask herself the same question. He was a good man…a wonderful man…but he just couldn’t get it. What was she fighting for, anyway? They were going to have to say goodbye tomorrow. Why not do it now and get it over with?
“This week has been wonderful,” she said. “I want to remember it that way.”
“Right.” He finished stuffing his things into his luggage, zipped them closed, and slung his duffel over his shoulder. “I hope you find happiness…somehow.”
Maybe she would. Maybe she was happy already. “Thank you for everything.”
He grabbed his suitcase and headed toward the door. “Goodbye, Désirée Knight.”
Then, he went out into the hallway and closed the door behind him.
“Goodbye, Nate,” she said to the empty room. Then she went to the chair and sank onto it before her knees gave out. She’d had Nate—the man of her dreams—and he was gone, relegated to her fantasy life again. Only now she knew the reality of being in his arms. She wasn’t going to get over that anytime soon.
…
Dear Readers,
Well, I’m back from Eros’ Retreat and assimilating all of my experiences there. The resort is a haven of sensuality and definitely worth exploring despite the price tag.
Rae stared at the screen. Who wanted to read about leaving a place like Eros’ Retreat? And who wanted to read about saying goodbye to Nate? She’d experienced both and lost both. The fact didn’t liberate her so much as it depressed her. And to make matters worse, she touched the pearl pendant he’d given her. Her fingers seemed to have minds of their own where the piece of jewelry was concerned.
A knock came at her apartment door. She could ignore it as she had the others. She was doing her column from home, had plenty of groceries, and didn’t have to deal with people if she didn’t want to.
The knock grew louder and more insistent. “I know you’re in there, Rae, and I’m not going away.”
A woman’s voice, and then the doorknob rattled. “Let me in.”
Carla, of course, and Rae was being an ass not to answer.
“I’m coming,” she called as she went down the short hallway to the door. The minute she had it open, Carla barged in like the military taking over hostile territory.
“What is wrong with you?” Carla demanded. “I’ve been calling and calling.”
“I was going to call you back.” She just hadn’t decided when.
“You weren’t at work.”
“Holy crap. Were you checking on me there?”
Carla put her hands on her hips. “I can’t call my friend at her office?”
“Don’t let on to the folks at work that anything’s wrong with me, please.”
Carla turned Rae around and guided her to the kitchenette. “Coffee first. Then talk to me.”
While Carla played with the coffee pot, Rae sat on a stool at the counter and stared at the screen of her laptop. Dismal work. Maybe she and Carla could brainstorm another topic over coffee. For now, she saved the file and closed her laptop.
“Dish,” Carla said. “Was your Nate everything you’d hoped?”
“Yeah.” And more. Much, much more.
“So, you’re going to see him again, right?”
“Nope.”
Carla stopped on her way from the sink to the pot, a full carafe of water in her hand. “Could I get more than two syllables out of you, please?”
“He was funny and attentive and mind-blowing in bed.”
Carla pushed the button on the pot and then leaned her elbows on the counter. “Is he married, engaged, girlfriend?”
“Nate wouldn’t cheat on anyone.”
“He sounds perfect.”
“Yup.”
“Come on, girl. Open up. This is me you’re talking to.”
“We had a wonderful time until the night before he left.”
Carla got out two mugs, poured, and set one in front of Rae. “And…”
“I made him pretend to flirt with other people,” she said. “He didn’t like it.”
“Why on earth would you make him do that?”
“So we wouldn’t seem like a couple.” She might as well confess everything. “And I acted as if I was interested in other people, too.’
“That’s the craziest thing I ever heard,” Carla said. “What was wrong with you?”
Rae waved her hands in the air. “We were getting attached to each other.”
Carla clapped her hands together. “Hot damn, I knew it.”
“That’s not a good thing,” she said. “How can I write a column about being a single woman if I’m attached?”
“You’ll make it work. You wrote about getting laid for fun when you weren’t getting any,” Carla said. “It’ll be more honest if you are with a man regularly.”
“He was controlling.”
“Control you? Ha,” Carla said. “How did he try?”
“He bought me a bunch of really sexy clothes and dared me to wear them for a photo shoot.”
Carla rolled her eyes. “There’s the real crime of the century.”
“He was stubborn and wouldn’t do things the way I wanted him to.”
“And look how your way fucked everything up.”
Damn it. Why did Carla have to be right? Nate had always meant well, even when he was teasing.
“Did he do anything that was a deal breaker?” Carla asked.
“No, I guess not.”
“Then work things out with him,” Carla said. “You can’t spend the rest of life alone.”
That much was becoming obvious. She’d felt so empty since coming home. She kept waking up and expecting him to be in bed beside her. Sometimes she imagined she’d heard his voice. And she’d sure never look at a shower stall the same way again.
Carla set her mug down, walked around the counter, and gave Rae a hug. “Take a risk, girl. You won’t be able to live with yourself unless you do.”
…
When Rae finally did show up at the office, the receptionist, Flo, intercepted her before she could make it to her desk.
“Phil wants to see you,” Flo said.
“That figures.”
“Seriously, Rae, have you been sick?” Flo asked.
“Just home.” Wallowing in self-pity. “Telecommuting.”
“Nice work if you can get it.” Flo waved her arm over her console. “I’m stuck here with this thing.”
“I’d better go see what Phil wants.”
Rae only stopped in her cubicle long enough to stash her laptop and purse and then took a few seconds to compose herself. Usually, if Phil wanted you, he sent someone to your cubicle. He didn’t put out an All-Points Bulletin with the receptionist.
No way to put this off. She marched, head high, toward Phil’s office. With her luck, he was there and alone. She knocked on the open door before entering.
“There’s my brilliant reporter,” Phil said. “Come in, Rae.”
She did and took a seat across the desk from him. “You wanted to see me.”
Phil laced his fingers together and put his hands on the desk. “Are you all right?”
“Never better,” she lied. “Why?”
“We haven’t seen you for over a week.”
“I’ve been sending in my columns,” she said. She’d probably turned a bit red with embarrassment, too.
“We’re going to be putting the Eros article together. There’ll be meetings.”
“I hadn’t expected it so soon.”
“Why sit on something this big?” Phil hesitated for a moment. “There’s more going on, though, isn’t there?”
Shit. Phil knew her too well. “It’s just a temporary thing, Phil. I’ll get over it.”
“You broke up with him, didn’t you?” Phil asked.
“Who?” Stupid question. They both knew who he was talking about. It wouldn’t even buy her any time.
“Your escort at Eros’ Retreat,” Phil said. “The man in those pictures.”
She groaned inwardly. Of course, Phil had seen the shots the photographer had taken of her in the scanty clothes Nate had bought her. “Oh, him.”
“You spent a week there having…um…fun, and now you’ve broken up with him.”
“We were never in a real relationship. He was just my Hook-Up Man,” she said. “I’m supposed to be Single and Sexy, remember?”
“If you’re not married to him, you’re technically single.”
“Married?” She almost choked. Married to Nate in a house with a picket fence and little Nates tugging on her apron?
“It’s not that strange, Rae. Most people do it.”
Phil had managed for over twenty-five years with his wife. If only she could feel sure she wouldn’t pick a controlling caveman, she might try it herself.
“Your personal life is none of my business.” He rested back in his chair. “But your columns is.”
“I’m sorry. I’ve been a bit off lately.”
“They’re fine,” he said. “The problem is they’re only fine. They’re missing the sparkle you had while you were with…what was his name?”
“Nate.”
Phil was being generous. Her writing wasn’t fine, and she’d run completely out of sparkle. Yes. She was definitely deficient in the sparkle department. But what to do about it?
“We’re going to run the article, and it’ll be hugely successful.” Phil sat in silence for a few seconds to let that sink in. “This is a chance for a bright, young journalist to make a name for herself.”
There was a big “but” coming. Her stomach clenched.
“But you want to be prepared for the opportunity,” Phil said. “You have to be at the top of your game.”
“You’re saying for that I need Nate.” Really? Really? Couldn’t any part of her life function without him?
“He must be a pretty good guy if you care about him so much, don’t you think?”
She’d hadn’t thought of much else since he’d walked out of their room at the resort. That maybe she’d passed up the possibility of a real relationship with a man who’d treat her as well as Nate had during those days. “How can I get attached to someone if my whole persona is Single and Sexy?”
“People will still love the column,” he said. “But you need to do some work on the author.”
“Sparkle.”
“That and your own well-being. How long can you keep this gig running? What are you going to do when you’re sixty?”
“I dunno…Sixty and Sexy?”
Phil laughed. “I’d be happy to publish that. But only if it sparkled.”
Which brought her right back to Nate. Everything these days brought her back to Nate. There was no escaping him.
“I don’t want to tell you how to run your life, Rae,” Phil said. “But I do feel I’ve been a mentor to you since you came here.”
“Absolutely,” she said.
“So I’ll give you a little bit of advice. I don’t believe in muses. As the old saying goes, genius is ‘one part inspiration and ninety-nine parts perspiration.’ But you still need that one percent.”
She needed something. That was for sure.
“If a writer doesn’t have a full life, her work suffers.” Phil leaned across the desk toward her. “Just like yours is now.”
“Ouch.”
“So you’ll do something to fix this?”
“I guess I have to,” she said.
“Good,” Phil said. “Get the sparkle back.”
She found her way back to her cubicle by body memory because her mind was in at least three places as she went. Back at the resort. In the Barn. Still occupied by everything Phil had said. Just for the hell of it, she powered up her computer and opened one of her old columns from back in the day when Nate occupied her mind night and day, waking and sleeping. At the time, he’d provided plenty of inspiration. Then at Eros’ Retreat, he’d blown her mind with reality that had been better than her fantasies.
Sure enough, the old column sparkled. It was fun and full of great ideas about how to enjoy yourself in bed. Anyone would want to read it and maybe try out a few of the suggestions herself. So unlike the drivel that came out of her fingers now.
Her phone rang. Carla. So she answered the call. “Hi.”
“This is your daily reminder call,” Carla said. “Have you gotten back together with him or not?”
“I don’t know if he’ll want me.”
“There’s one way to find out. Call him.”
“Yeah, maybe.”
“No maybe,” Carla said. “Do it.”
“I will. Later.”
“I’m going to keep hounding you until you do.”
“Love you, too. Bye.” Rae ended the call and sat. Some god or goddess had decreed that everyone in the office leave her alone so she could decide what the hell to do. She could call him, but what would she say? “I’ve been an ass”? That was a start. “I think we came to care for each other”? Cop-out. She needed to own up to her own feelings. “Can we give it another try”? Lame.
None of those sparkled. She needed something big. Something that would re-create the time they’d spent together. Something that would knock his eyes out. Rae might be stumped, but Désirée Knight would figure something out.