Chapter Five
Nate
“Earth to Nate. What’s going on? You’ve been like a zombie the entire morning,” Clara says the next day during the lunch break, tapping her foot against the hardwood floor of the studio while holding out two sandwiches. “Turkey or cheese?”
I grab the one with the turkey label. “Thanks.”
It was four o’ clock by the time I got into bed, waking up two hours later feeling almost hungover. Now it’s lunchtime, and my head still throbs. Clara and I go out to the balcony overlooking the inner patio. It’s become our designated lunch spot. Everyone else heads to the nearby restaurant, enjoying the hour off, but Clara and I typically only take half the allotted time.
“So? Any particular reason why you could barely keep your eyes open today?” She’s practically bouncing up and down on her toes. I sit on the bench, unwrapping the foil from the sandwich.
“It’s called a private life, Clara. Weren’t you nagging me about having one?”
“Yes, but it interferes with your work. I’ve had to cover for you, saying you stayed up late to edit the last segment, and that’s why you can’t focus.”
I stop midchew, standing straighter. “Who complained?” I pride myself on being able to do my job better than ninety-nine percent of my peers, even with my eyes closed and my hands tied behind my back. I don’t want to give anyone reason to think I’m not giving my best just because I’ll be leaving in two weeks.
Clara stares at me intently, right before bursting into laughter.
“You didn’t have to cover, did you?” I ask, feeling sucker-punched.
When she eventually stops laughing, she shakes her head. “No one complained. Your work is great, as usual, but I just wanted to have leverage against you. To make you talk.”
I don’t have any siblings, but I always imagined if I had a little sister she’d be just like Clara, nosy and annoying.
“I went with Alice to a senior center last night. We were there until three o’clock in the morning.”
Watching Clara’s reaction is downright comical. I’ve talked to her about the Bennett family often, and she knows I’m pulling strings for Alice. When I mentioned Alice, her eyes went wide with surprise, but they narrowed to thin lines at the words senior center.
“Odd choice of a place for a date.”
“It wasn’t a date.”
“Oh. So you were out until the early hours of the morning… why?”
While we eat our sandwiches, I explain everything, and Clara listens quietly, which is very unlike her. After I’m done, she remains quiet, which makes me nervous. A fact I’ve learned over the years: when a chatty woman is quiet, some major shit will go down.
“So, you have the hots for Alice.”
“Well—”
“It wasn’t a question. It’s a fact.” She holds her palm up, and all I can do is chuckle. “Why don’t you ask her out?”
“I’m going to move in two weeks. What’s the point?”
“The point is you glowed while talking about her.”
I coil. “Clara, for God’s sake. I’m a man. I don’t glow.”
“So if you weren’t moving in two weeks, you would ask her out?” she continues undeterred.
“Good question.”
“What’s your answer?”
“Alice and I are different. She might not admit it, but she has stars in her eyes, believing in happy ever afters and all that jazz.”
“True. Plus, her parents have been married for almost four decades. I suppose it contributed to her being a believer.”
Usually I appreciate the fact that Clara remembers everything I tell her. Except when she’s turning my words against me. I have a hunch this is what’s about to happen.
“And your parents getting divorced when you were thirteen and still not standing to be in the same room with each other all these years later turned you into a nonbeliever.”
I shake my head, not really in the mood to delve into this topic.
“Clara, no offense, but I don’t believe in that crap. Justifying my choices by my parents’ mistakes is a coward’s way out. There’s only so much one can blame on childhood stuff.”
“It’s not crap. It’s scientifically proven. Our childhood years mark us.” Clara’s voice catches and she glances to her hands.
Way to put your foot in your mouth, Becker.
“Your story is different,” I say gently. Her parents died when she was young, and Clara spent most of her childhood in foster homes. Of course that kind of background shapes you. “My parents just divorced. Half the marriages in this country fall apart.”
She smiles weakly. “This is the last thing I will say about this, but there is a lot of research on the topic, concluding that people are afraid to perpetuate the same unhappy pattern they’ve seen in their family. So a child of divorce would not be a believer in marriage because he’d subconsciously fear that any marriage ends in divorce… and possibly kids going through the same thing he did.”
I brush the theory off, even though it doesn’t sound farfetched. In fact, it hits home surprisingly hard.
“How about I always choose work over relationships. There are only so many hours in a day.”
“Suit yourself, but if you think about it more, you’ll see I’m right.”
We finish our sandwiches in silence afterward, and my mind slides to Alice and all the fun we had yesterday. If someone had told me that partying with a bunch of seniors would go down as one of the best nights of my life, I would’ve told them they’re insane.
Then again, it wasn’t the best night because of the seniors. It was because of a certain spitfire brunette who is monopolizing my thoughts.
After we head inside, Clara and I go over the schedule for my remaining days in San Francisco.
“We should squeeze in the meeting with the producer one day at dinner,” Clara says. Dinner meetings are the last resort—something we do when every other option fails.
“Works for me. How about next Friday?”
She shakes her head, surveying her private calendar. “I can’t. I have plans.”
“Date?”
“Nah, I’m going out with Alice’s sister Pippa and some other girls from the family.”
“I didn’t realize you knew them personally.”
“I dropped by one of Alice’s locations after the Delicious Dining team said they might be interested in featuring all three restaurants. Wanted to check it out for myself. Pippa was there and one thing led to another.”
“Why am I suspecting I was the talk of the town?”
“Because you have great instincts. I like Pippa.”
Clara becoming friends with the Bennett clan is an excellent thing. She doesn’t have any family, and I like knowing she’ll have someone to rely on after I move to London.
“Me too. But I’m also afraid of her.”
Clara elbows me, chuckling. “You’re a smart man. I haven’t met all of them, but I think all the Bennett girls should be feared. Even those who married into the family.”
I nod thoughtfully, imagining the women Sebastian and Logan married are fierce and determined too. It still boggles my mind that both are married, and the older set of twins, Christopher and Max, are engaged.
The image of Alice slightly off balance after one too many drinks pops in my mind. She turned into a lovely goof, but she also lowered her guard, leaned in too close, felt me up with no regrets. I knew it was time to stop dancing when I started imagining the front buttons of her dress popping open all on their own. I only have so much self-control, and Alice was testing it with dedication.
She was sober by the time I drove her home, and we agreed to meet again before I leave, even though I have a hunch things will escalate next time I see her.