Chapter Sixteen
Things I learned today was a nice exercise I used to do with my dad when I was growing up. At the dinner table every night, he made me list ten things I had learned and one thing I had failed at. He thought failure was the best teacher. It was a nice exercise, but now, lying here in my bed, it was kind of excruciating because, oh, had I failed today. I had blurred the personal and professional lines by entwining myself with a client’s family, which was kind of fabulous, by the way. More importantly, I’d let my pheromones rule my day. They had me feeling like old, naïve me who believed in kismet, serendipity, magical moments, and Nick.
So the biggest thing I learned today was that I was a dolt. Followed by, there were a lot of strange people who got paid to eat bizarre things on YouTube. That knowledge came courtesy of Skye. We watched YouTube videos together while her dad and grandpa cleaned the kitchen. That probably wasn’t the best thing to do after eating. One of the guys ate congealed pig’s blood. Sadly, she informed me, he made five times what I did.
Speaking of Skye, she was adorable and had her dad wrapped around her finger. When she came down wearing what she had purchased, he beamed and didn’t even ask how much she paid for it. Skye also asked if we could do something this week. Of course I said yes. I mean, I might as well do a thorough job of erasing any professional lines that were left. Not to mention the connection I felt to her. Something I’d never felt before, like I’d always known her. It’s as weird as it sounded.
My list didn’t stop there. Not that this was any surprise, but I had indisputable evidence now that Nick was born with Greek god status. To Nick’s dismay, but admittedly to my delight, his dad brought out some photo albums. The Gerber baby had nothing on Nick. His cherub cheeks and big blue eyes had my biological clock in hyperdrive. And he used to smile when he was little, like huge-rays-of-sunshine smiles. That smile had my heart melting and my ovaries begging to let him put them to good use. Then there were the family pictures. Gorgeous. His dad was one handsome sailor, and his mom exuded grace. She obviously adored her son by the way she smiled at him in several photos.
Jack spun a good story. I loved hearing about his days in the navy. He told touching stories of all the men in the barracks singing Christmas songs while lying in their bunks. For many of them, it had been their first Christmas away from home. Jack also had me sold for life on his restaurant. We had flamiche, which was like quiche, and the best dessert of my life, tarte tatin, which was a fancy French way of saying apple tart.
Nick also gave me the inside scoop on Hollywood. See, producers were involved in a broad range of roles. If you were an executive producer, it meant you probably shelled out some serious cash for the movie or TV show that you’d produced. Producers also raised money, managed books, hired the crew, including the director, editor, script consultants, and casting directors. If you were a TV producer, you ran the show. To get your idea greenlighted to make a movie, you had to create a pitch package that included a treatment, which was a two to five page synopsis, or the broad strokes of the plot line. If the studio liked it, they would send you a contract, but that contract was just the first of many contracts, and at any point in the process they could kill your project. Other steps included outlines and drafts of the scripts. In between, you got notes from the studio executives on what you’d given them. And if you were lucky, in two to three years, you might have your movie made. It was a lot of information. He seemed to enjoy talking about it as we strolled through his dad’s flower gardens and along the river walk.
One thing he wouldn’t discuss was what he was working on now. He did leave the door open to telling me someday, but only after I confessed all my rules to him. So I would never know. Unless it got made into a movie. But how would I know it was what he was working on now? As soon as he was done using Binary Search, I planned on cutting all ties with him. Except maybe Skye. I would keep in touch with her if she wanted to. And Jack.
I rolled to my side and squeezed a pillow for comfort. Sleep was going to be hard to come by. I hadn’t relived the biggest failure of the day. I shut my eyes tight, trying to forget it, but my cheek was still burning from where he kissed me goodbye. I told him he didn’t need to walk me to my car, but he’d insisted.
It was there in front of my car that I let him get to me. I should have seen the question coming, but I’d hoped he’d let it drop since he hadn’t mentioned it right away. But there we were under the starry Georgia sky, cicadas singing in the background, a light breeze ruffling through my hair. It didn’t help with the intense heat I felt from Nick’s gaze. It was like being in an episode of On the Edge. He was channeling detective Talon Fox, wanting answers and using his wiles to get exactly that.
I wasn’t having it. At least that was my intention.
“Good night,” I’d said, reaching for my car door and hoping that would be the conclusion of what was admittedly a great day with his family. I hadn’t had that much fun in too long.
He had other plans. He pressed his hand against the door and dialed up his searing stare. “I make you nervous.” He didn’t ask or surmise, he stated it like cold, hard truth.
“No,” I breathed out an octave too high. Lying like I’d never lied before. He made me nervous on so many levels, but mainly because I thought I was smarter than to be attracted to him.
The corners of his mouth lifted, but never made it to a smile. “Then why didn’t you tell me we’d met before?”
“I . . .” I couldn’t think. That was my moment. We were never supposed to talk about it. What happened at Serendipity stayed at Serendipity. I think it was a rule of serendipitous moments, if not, it was my rule.
“Let me guess, you have your reasons.”
That was the perfect answer. I nodded.
“Did you despise me then too?”
And this is where the fatal error occurred. His darn sexy eyes had me mesmerized and before I could stop my mouth, it said, “Not at all.”
He flashed a brilliant, self-satisfied smile at me before leaning in and kissing my cheek without warning. Which only spoke of how well he could read a situation and me. He knew he’d never have gotten away with it if I’d anticipated it.
“You shouldn’t do that,” I whispered.
“Why?”
There were so many reasons why that couldn’t be voiced. “I’m your relationship manager.”
“Where I come from, it’s a natural greeting or parting for business associates . . . or friends.”
I tilted my head. “You want to be friends?”
He pushed off my car. “That’s a start. Good night, Kate.” He strode away, whistling low like his character used to do after he’d gotten his way.
I threw myself back against my pillow. What did he mean by that was a start? A start to what? We shouldn’t be friends; not even sure we could be. It wasn’t only that I was attracted to him physically, but I was confused about what kind of a human being he was. Narcissism was so hard to diagnose and even harder to treat because they could mimic a range of emotion to get what they wanted. Once they got what they wanted was when you had to start worrying.
I knew that from experience. Douglas got exactly what he wanted out of me. A young, naïve wife who he thought he could mold and feed off my insecurities. He also got the envy of his colleagues—he had a wife thirteen years his junior who worshipped the ground he walked on. Or at least, I had until his true colors came out. It was terrifying how fooled I was. My only consolation was it wasn’t only me. He’d taken everyone for a ride. The debonair lecturer who could deliver a presentation with such finesse and skill it was breathtaking.
Like Nick, Douglas was an actor. Perhaps Nick’s hubris wasn’t as big as Douglas’s, but his self-confidence and self-importance was higher than average. Douglas’s was off the charts. My pregnancy was all about him. Having a child with me meant the fake life he’d created with me was bound to come undone. He would be caught in the web he’d spun and tangled me up in. Even when I lost the baby, all he could say to me was he didn’t know why I even let him know—it meant nothing to him. I meant nothing to him. It was his final blow. He wanted me to feel like nothing. And for a while, that’s exactly how I felt.
I would never feel like that again.
The problem was, in my quest to never be with such a person again, something had been lost. Desire, passion, butterflies, all the magic that should exist when you pursue a relationship had disappeared. I’d had some nice dates, good conversations, even some sweet kisses, but nothing that stirred my soul or made me feel.
I brushed my cheek with my hand. I felt the lips that lingered there. That simmering moment where you breathed each other in. Where desire and passion stirred and made the butterflies take flight. Feelings I feared were once gone had erupted. The connection I’d been longing for since that chance meeting so long ago clicked into place. Why must fate be so cruel to give me what I had been longing for all while knowing it was wrapped up in all that I should distance myself from?
Why, then, was I lying in bed thinking of Nick?
The better question was, what was wrong with me?