Chapter Four
My fingers felt numb. They were refusing to dial Nick Wells’s number. I knew I had to. His gorgeous face was plastered all over our website now. The phones hadn’t stopped ringing and the online inquiries for more information on how to become a client were overwhelming. Kenadie had been smart to hire more relationship managers and an additional admin assistant. My life was about to get more chaotic, and not only because of my new role, but because I evaluated each prospective new client. Not all applicants made it to me. It was surprising how many people didn’t pass the background check or wrote in questionable, bordering-on-frightening answers on their questionnaires, like fetishes and dark fantasies. We had called the authorities more than once.
I was stalling. The connection meeting was in two days, which meant I should try and see him tonight so I could do my research tomorrow and choose three unlucky, I mean potential women to suggest as his first victims, oops, dates.
I must have picked up my phone a dozen times. I organized my already neat desk. Sent a few emails. I needed an if-then strategy to motivate me. If Kenadie emailed me one more time asking if I called him, I’d do it without delay. That was good. A thoughtful, mature way to deal with procrastination. I wasn’t buying it either. I picked up my phone and, unfortunately, my fingers worked this time.
One ring. Two rings. Three rings. Four rings. I was hanging up.
“Who is this?” his deep voice growled.
No! I was taken aback by the gruff manner in which he answered, so I paused.
“Who is this?” he repeated.
“Kate Morgan.” I tried to keep the bite out of my tone. But really, who answered the phone that way?
“How did you get my number?”
“I googled it.” Okay, so that was a little biting, more like a nibble, but he deserved it after being so rude.
“That’s impossible.”
“You’re probably right. Kenadie from Binary Search gave me your number. We met Monday.”
He paused for a moment. “You’re the psychologist.”
“That would be me. I will also be acting as your relationship manager, which is why I’m calling.”
“Right, the date phase.”
I swore I heard a hint of mocking. “It’s an important step and part of our process.”
A heavy breath came through on his end. “Fine. When should we have our date?”
“If you’re available tonight I can make reservations at Atlas in The St. Regis.” I knew one of the sous chefs there. It was a high-end place, at least for Atlanta. I’m sure there were pricier places in LA.
“That won’t work.”
He couldn’t know how happy that made me. “Perhaps tomorrow?” Please say no.
“Meet me at Jack’s on the River tonight at seven. I’m doing some workshops at the performing arts centre nearby. I’ll try to be on time.”
Who was this guy? His rudeness was off the charts. If this were a real date, it wouldn’t be happening. But since I was getting paid to go out with him—wait. That sounded awful. Maybe Zander was right, being a relationship manager was akin to being a pimp. I couldn’t think like that.
“Can I give you some advice?” I felt if I didn’t I wasn’t doing my job.
Silence on his end. Not surprising.
“I hope when you start to see the women who have not only paid a nice sum of money to use our services here but have an expectation that we are pairing them with someone they deserve, that you treat them with more deference than you just showed me. I’ll see you at seven.” I hung up.
I was going to get myself fired at this rate, or at the very least removed as his relationship manager, which wouldn’t be awful for me, except my evaluation of him seemed to be spot on. I was determined to protect the company from him. How? I had no idea.
~*~
I ran home to change into something more dinner appropriate. Not because I was trying to impress Nick Wells, but because I would do my best to represent the values we aspired to at Binary Search. Nick Wells was the last man I would ever want to attract. He went against almost every rule on my list. Being a possible narcissist at the top, not to mention he was a celebrity. Two of the biggest rules broken right there. Celebrity divorce rates were some of the worst. And that lifestyle was a breeding ground for selfish behavior. Not that I was too concerned that a celebrity would ever want to date me, much less marry me, but I had to add it to my list just in case. I liked to cover all my bases.
Atlanta traffic was alive and well, so I had to rush to change. I climbed the steps to my main level from my first-level garage. I took a moment though, before I headed to my third level, to admire my home. It was the first place I had owned. I didn’t count my brief six months with Douglas. That was all a lie anyway—he never owned the place like he said. One of his many, many lies. It made me even more grateful as I looked over my piece of heaven that it was truly my own. I was in love with the openness and the dark wood with taupe doors and crown molding. The built-in bookcases that framed the fireplace were my favorite. They overflowed with my trusted friends.
I hustled up to my bedroom and headed to the section of my closet that I had designated as “dating” clothes. These were clothes that spoke to the kind of person I wanted to attract and represented how I wanted to present myself. Most importantly, they were clothes I felt good in. I had a feeling I would need all the help I could get being around a man who worshipped himself and undoubtedly had a following of worshippers. Thankfully, he was well past the height of his popularity, but judging by the women in our office, people still recognized him and would love the chance to fawn all over him.
This could be a long night.
I chose a red wraparound dress that accentuated my waist and showcased my legs, but still fell nicely just above the knee. It was classy with a hint of fun. Exactly the kind of person I hoped to attract and strived to be. I knew I fell short, especially in the fun department, but I was trying to be better. More outgoing. More like the me before Douglas, though I could never be the same after what he did to me.
I let my caramel hair down and added a few waves to it before giving it a little volume. For makeup, I went with a bronzy neutral look to bring out my blue eyes. When it was all said and done, I felt nowhere near ready to face Nick. Not only did he bring up bad memories for me, but I felt so foolish—once upon a time, it was my dream to be Kate Wells. Thankfully, my frontal lobe was fully attached now, and I was smart enough to know that men like him should be avoided like white after Labor Day. Which reminded me, I should probably throw away the six seasons I owned of On the Edge on DVD. I remembered squealing every time a new season came out. Sometimes I missed that naïve young woman and the innocent way she used to look at the world.
I slid into some beige pumps to match my skin tone and hustled back out to my car and traffic. Maybe Nick didn’t care, but I planned on being on time. The traffic on 75 had abated, making my goal more realistic. My nerves had not quelled. I wasn’t sure why I was so nervous. I had zero interest in him, but there was something intimidating about him. He made me feel like I had to keep my guard up, and that wasn’t really my style. I was by no means a laid-back person, but for many years now, I felt most comfortable observing, only engaging when I had to. Like my mother was quick to point out, it was probably why I wasn’t married or even in a relationship, that and she thought I was too selective. My problem was I hadn’t been selective enough.
I put on some Etta James and ran through a checklist that I might give a patient. Try to find positive meaning in the unpleasant task, control my negative thoughts, reward myself when it was completed. I liked that last one. The question was, how would I reward myself? Maybe that new handbag I wanted, or comforter? Depending on the night, maybe both.
By the time I made it to the restaurant off the Chattahoochee River, I still wasn’t looking forward to it, but I was calm. Thank you, Etta James, you’ve yet to disappoint me.
The charming restaurant reminded me of a quaint chateau, with blooming azalea bushes adding to the ambiance. Nick got a point for that. If the food was half as good as how beautiful the exterior was, I think I’d found a new favorite place. Assuming he didn’t come here ever except this once. Dean Martin could be heard on the sound system for the patio diners enjoying the river view. I was already in love with this place. If only I wasn’t meeting Nick.
I took a deep breath and steadied myself as I entered ten minutes early. I was ready to fall more deeply in love with the interior, but I couldn’t believe what was surrounding me in the waiting area. On second thought, I shouldn’t have been surprised. Nick was everywhere. It was like a homage to him and On the Edge. He was staring at me at every turn. His brooding persona jumped off each picture, whether he was in a police officer uniform, his signature tight jeans, let’s not forget shirtless, or holding his TV partner and love interest. There I stood looking at each photo on the surrounding walls before I ever made it to the hostess. I wasn’t even sure why. Perhaps I was astounded at his arrogance to have dinner in what could easily be called the Church of Nicholas Wells, or maybe because that’s what several other people waiting to be seated were doing.
Sadly, I recognized each episode where the shots of him were taken. Like the one where he saved his partner, Samantha, from a fiery car crash. He did his own stunts, something else he bragged about on his questionnaire. I’m ashamed to admit I still got a little fluttery remembering that scene. It was sexy and sweet and we’d all been rooting for them to get together.
His character Talon Fox was brooding, yet sweet and attentive to his partner’s needs and wants. There was even a humble quality. One I had found endearing. Thoughts of Nick in my office easily vanquished any lingering feelings for his character, Talon Fox, out of my mind. Talon Fox was an illusion. I was a fool to ever believe that Nick was like the character he played.
In the midst of what I would call my horrified fascination, I was approached by a man.
“Hello.”
His smooth deep voice with a hint of Southern charm turned my head. I was caught by a pair of oddly familiar enigmatic blue eyes. They were framed by crinkles and belonged to a distinguished older gentleman with the finest head of silver hair I had ever seen. He was dressed impeccably, too, in a gray button-down and dark slacks. If only he were younger, were my first thoughts. I didn’t date anyone more than ten years older than me. Divorce rates for wider age gaps were too risky.
I stopped my ogling long enough to say, “Hello.”
His eyes took me in, in a way that I hadn’t experienced for a long time. His smile said he liked what he saw.
I was both flattered and cautious. And I couldn’t shake the feeling that I knew him.
“I’m Jack.” He held out his hand.
I placed my slender fingers in his capable hand, refined by time, and tilted my head. “As in Jack-on-the-River Jack?”
His deep melodic laugh rumbled through me. “The very one. And you are?” He kept my hand firmly but gently in his own.
“Kate Morgan.”
His mysterious blue eyes lighted. “Ah, Kate, we’ve been waiting for you.”
I slid my hand out of his. “You have?”
“You’re on our reservations list.”
“Oh.” I was surprised Nick had made the effort.
Jack gave me a grin that stirred familiarity again.
“Have we met before?” I asked.
He stepped intimately close and revealed how fantastic he smelled. It was as if I stepped outside after a good rainstorm. “Believe me darlin’, I would have remembered you.”
Wow. A shiver ran down my spine. Who was this man, and did he have a younger brother? Son perhaps? Oh my gosh. A thought crashed into me. I looked at the nearest photo of Nick and then back at the debonair man next to me. They couldn’t be. Could they? I took another peek of Nick.
“Are you a fan?” Jack asked.
“Not particularly, no,” I blurted before I thought.
Jack’s laughter once again consumed the space. “I like you, darlin’.”
I was going to ask Jack how he knew the man who adorned his establishment’s walls, but it became painfully apparent who he was when the doors opened and in strutted his son with the loveliest teen girl by his side. There was no question it was Nick’s daughter, Skylar; she was the spitting image of her model mother Alessandria, right down to the long legs and emerald eyes. Except her eyes had an innocent quality to them. She had an aura of a guileless creature. Even the way she braided her long blonde hair to the side spoke of her purity.
She noticed us first and ran straight into her grandfather’s open arms. “Grandpa.”
“There’s my girl.” Jack held her tight.
Unfortunately, that meant her father joined us too. Or he attempted to. He had some fans in the waiting area. He paused and chatted with a couple, even took a picture with them. He flashed his signature brittle smile and made the woman swoon and giggle.
I noticed Skylar roll her eyes. I liked her already.
Jack chuckled and caught my eye. “Skye, I want you to meet someone.”
I liked her nick name.
“This is Kate Morgan.”
“It’s nice to meet you.” I smiled at the beautiful girl.
Skye gave me an appraising sort of look. “You’re the one having dinner with my dad.” She didn’t sound very fond of the idea.
I imagined it must be hard for her to see her dad date. Even though this wasn’t at all that kind of date. “If you had plans with him, I’m happy to reschedule. Or you’re welcome to join us for our dinner meeting.” I wanted to make sure she knew it wasn’t a date and I was no threat to her. Also, I really didn’t want to be alone with Nick. Besides, seeing how he interacted with his daughter could give me some more insight into him.
Skye’s demeanor went from scrutinizing to surprised. “Really?”
Jack gave me a smile of approval. “I think we should all have dinner together.” His focus shifted behind me. “What do you think, Nick?”
My head turned, and I was met with those Wells eyes. They captured mine before they roved over my body, exactly like the pair that belonged to his father had. Was he perusing me or judging me? He wore a look of discontent. He probably wasn’t happy with the way our phone call ended. But he was on time. My body, unfortunately, had mixed reactions to the way his eyes seemed to x-ray me. A hint of excitement ran through it, as well as a heavy dose of loathing. I berated myself internally for the small lapse of judgment in my neurons. Not that I could entirely blame them. I used to have posters of him on my wall. No one ever needed to know that.
Nick’s eyes stayed on me, but he spoke to his father. “Think about what?” The timbre of his voice matched his father, but his had an air of conceit.
A mischievous smile appeared on Jack’s face, showing off his laugh lines. He had plenty of them, unlike his progeny, who may have never laughed a day in his life judging by how taut his jawline was.
“I’ve decided I can’t bear to part company with our gorgeous new friend, so Skye and I are changing our plans and dining here with you. You don’t mind, do you?” Jack didn’t give him a chance to answer; he held out an arm for me and one for his granddaughter. “Ladies, let me show you to the best table we have here.”
Nick’s scowl said he wasn’t on board with the new plan, but he didn’t object.
Relief flooded me. I happily took Jack’s arm, as did Skye. Her mood lightened with the change of plan. Mine did, too. Part of me felt guilty because I knew I wasn’t technically fulfilling my duty as a relationship manager, but who was I to come between father and daughter? And I liked Jack. Not in an I-would-date-him sort of way, but there was something about him. He was a throwback to days gone by, where the man wasn’t afraid to show his interest. It was refreshing. And he was keeping me from being alone with his son, so I blessed him.
We strolled through the crowded main dining area that was decorated to match the outside. Cottage and French country dining tables and chairs dotted the restaurant in hues of antique white. Crystal bronze chandeliers set the mood. Several patrons stared as we passed by, or should I say, as Nick passed by, trailing behind us.
Jack led us out to the covered patio that had a gorgeous view of the river. The breeze off the river and patio ceiling fans made it comfortable to be outdoors in the warm July evening. Pots of flowers in a variety of colors overflowed the cozy space. Jack seated us near the edge where we could get the best view of the river and the trees that lined the body of water. Several patrons greeted Jack like they were old-time friends.
Which made me wonder. “When did you open this place, Jack?”
Jack pulled out my chair for me. “I’ve been in business about five years. Retirement was too boring.”
I took my seat while watching Nick pull out Skye’s chair next to me. He earned another point for that gesture. “What did you do before you retired?”
“I was in the Navy for years, before I managed this kid’s career for a while.” He nodded toward his son. “But Georgia is more my pace.”
I had no idea his dad was his manager. I’m sad to admit how much I did know from reading several articles about Nick when On the Edge first came out and the subsequent years after. Like I knew Nick’s mother, Barbara, died during the fifth season. My roommate and I mourned for him like we actually knew him. Okay, so I’d had a brush with him by then. Now I’d like to brush him away.
Nick took the seat across from me but had yet to say a word to me. Not like I had greeted him either. I wasn’t good at real dating, much less this awkward scenario. Let’s not forget I had serious reservations about the man. I had to remember, though, I was there to help Binary Search and mitigate any potential disasters.
“Hello, Nick.”
His eyes connected with mine, which was another point for him. Making eye contact was a good thing, but he was too good at it. His gaze was so penetrating I physically felt it. I remember Meg once mentioning that’s how she felt when Zander looked at her. I had never experienced such a sensation until now. Why couldn’t he just return my greeting instead of making me feel exposed? But that’s what narcissists did. They fed off your vulnerabilities.
I tore my eyes away from his. I refused to be vulnerable again, at least not in the presence of someone who couldn’t be trusted with it. No relationship ever worked unless both parties were willing to be vulnerable.
“I made it on time.” It was hard to tell if he was being sarcastic or if he wanted praise.
“I’ll add a star to your chart in the office,” I deadpanned.
The corner of his lip may have twitched, but his eyebrow arched so fast I wasn’t sure.
Jack, on the other hand, chortled from the seat next to me. “Beautiful and quick witted. Where do I sign up?” He gave me a wink.
Nick’s famous eyebrow arch now hit his dad.
Jack took it all in stride. “I may be old, but I’m not dead, son.” Jack patted my hand. “I suppose I should ask if you’re single.”
“Grandpa, you’re too old for her,” Skye stated boldly.
I smiled at Skye and was pleased she returned it. “I think your granddaughter’s right.”
“I hate to argue with beautiful women, but in this case, I might make an exception.”
He had me wishing he was younger while Skye shook her gorgeous head at him.
Nick apparently didn’t like the direction of the conversation. “Where’s our server?”
“Patience,” Jack reprimanded his son.
“I already know I’m having the spinach and cheese crepes,” Skye said.
“That sounds delicious,” I addressed Skye.
“They are,” Nick spoke, surprising me.
I shifted my gaze toward him. “Perhaps I’ll order them then.”
“You won’t be disappointed.” Nick’s tone was smoldering.
Unfortunately, I usually was.