Chapter Thirty
Apparently being friends with Nick meant helping him do research for his screenplay, even though he wasn’t willing to share what it was about. Something about nondisclosures and privileged information.
Not sure why he needed my help or what the private botanical gardens with the creepy mansion on the property had to do with it, but that is where I found myself on Sunday along with Skye and Liam, who looked so nervous I was afraid he would vomit. I felt the same way. But how could I tell Nick no after everything he had done for my parents? And I thought maybe I could work him out of my system like the book said. I needed my ovaries to quit screaming about him.
Nick had used his mastery of persuasion with the powers that be, not sure who they were, but they allowed us to tour the property even though they were closed on Sundays. I hadn’t even known this attraction, which was an hour from my place, existed. It was well off the highway and nestled back amongst the hills. The greenery around the property was stunning, and the long driveway to access the property was reminiscent of days gone by. The large wrought iron gates at the entrance added to the old-time feel. The mansion itself was covered in climbing vines, giving it an eerie ambiance. The dark stone didn’t help, or the large magnolia trees that kept the sun from reaching it.
The four of us stared up at the monstrous turreted home before the man we were supposed to meet dawdled out the front door.
“What do you think?” Nick asked while we waited.
“If you are writing a horror film, then it’s perfect.”
“Wait until I tell you the history of this place.”
I rubbed my arms, chilled from his ominous tone, even though it was blazing hot outside.
Nick took notice. “Don’t worry, Kate, I won’t let anything happen to you.”
His mere presence was already doing something to me, just like Liam’s was doing something to Skye. I decided to focus on her. I watched how she stood close to Liam, but not too close, and how her hand hung down wishing to be held. Liam kept his hands in his pockets. He’d hardly said two words in the car. But they could have been texting each other. Their fingers were certainly flying, and they kept smiling at each other.
The cute Mr. Kearns made his way over the deep porch that creaked when he stepped on it. His wispy gray hair blew in the light breeze and he was all a dither to meet Nick. That seemed to be the usual reaction where Nick was concerned.
Mr. Kearns shook hands vigorously with Nick. “Such a pleasure to meet you,” he kept repeating. “This must be your family.” Mr. Kearns smiled at me.
I stepped back, not sure what to say.
Nick smoothed it over by reaching across me toward Skye. “This is my daughter, Skye, and her friend Liam.”
Mr. Kearns smiled wide, showing off his rather large dentures. “Darling girl, so nice to meet you,” he addressed Skye. “And you, young man,” he referred to Liam.
All eyes landed on me.
Nick touched the small of my back and moved me right back next to him. “This is my friend, Kate.”
Mr. Kearns nodded like sure she’s your “friend” while holding out his hand to me. “Lovely to meet you, dear.” He had a deep Southern ring to his voice.
I took his hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”
He gave my hand an extra squeeze before letting it go. He turned to address Nick and handed him a brochure from his suit coat pocket. “We are all set for your visit. Here’s a map of the property. Entrance is through the home. You can tour the home and then the gardens. I will be available in my office on the first floor if you have any questions. I hope you will enjoy your visit to the Xavier Mansion.” He stepped aside and motioned for us to enter the large double doors with an X carved on them in a swirling script.
Nick had to prod me forward; something about the house didn’t sit well with me. The teenagers obviously had no issues, or at least bold and beautiful Skye didn’t—she took the lead and Liam followed, probably to stay away from Nick more than anything.
I smiled at the two while Nick shook his head; he may have even growled under his breath.
I leaned close enough to Nick not to be overheard. “I don’t think you have anything to worry about. He’s petrified of you and her.”
Skye had filled me in over text yesterday between helping my parents. She sent me screenshots of hers and Liam’s text conversation and it was amusingly boring. They basically talked about which was a better pet, a cat or a dog. Skye’s vote was for cats and Liam felt dogs were the way to go. They also shared some pet memes. I was so glad I grew up when we still talked on the phone.
“That’s not going to last.” Nick kept his eyes on his baby.
Liam held the door open for Skye and the rest of us like a gentleman. “Sir,” he said shakily when Nick passed. Nick only glared at him.
Liam was quick to enter and join Skye, who was already scoping out the art nouveau style furniture, in particular a large armoire that also had an X carved in it. Several pieces did, including the writing desk in the large foyer and several hand-carved chairs. The dim lighting and light blocking curtains added to the creep factor.
Mr. Kearns bounced on the balls of his feet. “Take your time. I have plenty of paperwork to catch up on.”
“Ooh, look at this.” Skye pointed to the grotesque looking upright piano in the parlor with carved heads on the lid and half naked women’s bodies carved into the side that looked as if they were crawling up it.
“What is this place?” I whispered to Nick.
“This was the home of Xavier Toole. He was a bit obsessive about his name and, as you can see, women.”
“Are you writing about him?”
Nick shook his head. “I’m more here for the feel of the place and location ideas.”
“Well, it feels unsettling.”
Nick tilted his head. “What would your diagnosis of someone like Xavier be, just by looking at his surroundings?”
I did a quick scan of all I could see. “I don’t know how accurate it would be; I would need some more information on him.”
“Try,” Nick urged.
“Okay . . .” I thought his request odd but walked around the parlor and adjoining rooms studying the pieces of furniture and art on the walls. Several pictures were of women, and they all had two things in common—they were all corseted and blonde. And each had an X in the corner. The man obviously had some sexual compulsions and, I would guess, a fetish.
My blood ran cold. “Are these his trophies?”
“Very good, doctor. Anything else?”
“My guess would be that he was abused or abandoned when he was young, possibly both.”
Nick pressed his lips together, forming a smile. “Right again. His father abused him, and his mother was a prostitute and made to forcibly give him up.”
“Let me guess—she was blonde.”
“You’re good at this.”
“I wish I wasn’t.” I shook where I stood. “What is the purpose of this place?”
“They do tours and murder mystery events. Xavier Toole, for all his faults, was a very wealthy man at the turn of last century, and for many years, a pillar of the community, until they found out his secret habit of painting his victims before he killed them and buried them on this property.”
I held my stomach. “That’s horrific.”
“Why don’t we go outside? The gardens, I hear, are second to none.” Nick’s hand found the small of my back.
“Are there dead bodies or statues of women?”
“Not that I’m aware of.”
“Lead the way. I want to be anywhere but here.”
Liam and Skye weren’t as anxious as me to leave. They were taking pictures of everything and probably snapchatting it with weird captions.
Nick wasn’t keen on leaving Skye alone with Liam, though, and suggested they come outside with us—more like demanded it. Liam hopped right to it and Skye followed him.
I was happy to feel the sun on my face and take in the well-manicured gardens. For as cold as the house was, the gardens had a whimsical feel to them. There were ponds with lily pads and hanging trees with old fashioned wood swings attached to them. Wind chimes sang in the breeze. Toy trains lined the stone path.
“He was trying to capture his innocence and childhood out here,” I said aloud.
Nick gave me a thoughtful look. “You are brilliant.”
“I don’t know about that.”
“There’s a maze,” Skye squealed and daringly grabbed Liam’s hand. “Let’s go through it.”
Nick’s first instinct was to follow, and he would have, but I did something I shouldn’t have on impulse. I copied Skye and took Nick’s hand. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
Nick’s fingers curled around my own without hesitation. “Why is that?”
I forgot what we were talking about. All my senses focused on how Nick held my hand and how spellbound it made me feel. “Uh . . .” Disengage, my brain yelled. Right. I tugged my hand free. My heart yelled what an idiot I was.
Nick’s lip ticked up at my obviously flustered state. “Everything all right?”
No. “Yes.” I distanced myself from him. The miniature magnolia tree was blooming and beautiful. A great distraction. I headed for it.
Nick wasn’t going to be ignored. “What were you saying about Skye? Who is now out of my sight and alone with Liam.”
I lightly touched the petals of one of the blooms. “First of all, Liam thinks of you as a mentor, even a second father, so don’t ruin that. And Skye needs to know you trust her. As her only parental figure, that’s more important than ever.”
I turned and noticed Nick’s fist clench.
“Does Skye have any contact with her mom?” I asked nonchalantly. Or as nonchalant as you could be when you ask that kind of question.
“None. I suppose you are going to tell me that it’s unhealthy.”
“Not at all, as long as Skye understands why and she agrees with it.”
“She does,” Nick said brusquely.
I silently moved on to the beautiful pond full of lily pads. Two swans glided along the water. There was a stone bench near the edge. I took a seat on it. It was such a serene spot, even knowing a murderer had owned it a long time ago. The swans placed their heads together forming their iconic heart shape.
Nick sat next to me and sighed. “I find myself apologizing more around you than I ever have.”
“Are you saying you’re sorry?” A smile played in my words.
“I suppose I am. Talking about Alessandria is difficult. I shouldn’t have snapped at you.”
“You don’t need to apologize, I understand.” More than I cared to admit.
Nick opened his mouth to say something, but for some reason didn’t articulate it. Instead he gazed into my eyes. I could tell he was holding something back.
I turned back to the swans before I got lost in him. “Did you know many swans mate for life?”
“I think I’ve heard that.”
“Most remain faithful partners their entire lives.”
“That’s important to you.” He wasn’t asking.
“Very,” I whispered.
We both sat in silence taking in the swans for a few minutes.
“What is a post consultation?” He caught me off guard with the question and abrupt change of subject.
“Are you talking about the interview we have with our clients when they want to date someone new?”
“Yes, that.”
“It’s a series of questions to see where things may have gone wrong, strategies for the next connection, things like that. Do you want to schedule one?”
“Why not do it here?”
“Now?”
He shrugged. “Why not?”
“Are you sure you don’t want to give it another go with Chanel? You only went on one date.”
“That’s all it takes to know.”
My eyes narrowed while I studied him. His eyes dared me to contradict him, so I didn’t. I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction.
“Okay, fine. Were you attracted to Chanel physically?”
He tossed his head side to side. “She was attractive, but I wasn’t attracted to her.”
“Did you feel like based on your profile we correctly matched you?”
“No.” He didn’t even have to think about it.
“I’m going to disagree with you for now, but what would you like to see different in a future connection?”
“How can you disagree with me? You know I’m right.”
“Your profile is more than your questionnaire.”
A wicked grin played on his face. “So what is your diagnosis of me?”
I rubbed my chest where my blouse was unbuttoned. “I don’t diagnose people at Binary Search.”
“Sure you do. What is your opinion of me, doctor?”
The floating lily pads became awfully fascinating. “This isn’t part of the post consultation questions.”
“I think you can make an exception.”
He was one big exception. Fine. He wanted to know. I faced him. “Honestly, if it were anybody but you, I wouldn’t have allowed you to go on to the next phase based on my initial assessment.”
I thought he would be upset, but instead a hint of gratification appeared on his face. “Now we are getting somewhere. Why is that?”
“Because of that right there. You’re arrogant and, honestly, you have narcissistic tendencies,” I blurted.
He leaned back. “Is that what you really think of me?”
“I don’t know,” I breathed out. “You’re a living dichotomy.” I faced the pond, trying to regain my equilibrium that he could so easily steal.
He drew close and spoke barely above a whisper. “Just so you know, you confuse the hell out of me too.”
A small laugh escaped me.
“Is this the reason you were made my relationship manager? You were worried about me?”
“Yes,” I admitted.
“I’m happy it worked out that way,” he whispered in my ear. Not at all upset that I had branded him with a possible disorder.
His breath against my skin made me shiver.
“Carry on with your questions. . . please.”
I took a deep breath, not wanting to ask the next question and more than that, stupidly hoping it didn’t apply. “Do you feel like you were . . . intimate too soon?” I asked the last part in a rush.
He raised his eyebrow. “Is that a real question?”
“It is, but . . . you know, on second thought, let’s skip it.”
“Oh, no. I want to hear the good doctor’s feedback.”
“You were intimate with her?” That made me feel sick to my stomach.
“Is that a problem for you?”
“What you do is your business.”
“You didn’t answer the question.”
“Neither did you.”
“You got me.” He shrugged. “I kissed her.”
“You did?” Jealousy flared inside of me. “I mean, okay, moving on.”
“I don’t think so.” He waved his finger back and forth. “Why is that an issue for you?”
“It isn’t.”
“You’re lying.”
I hated he could read me like a book. Even more, I hated that it was an issue for me. More than that, I found myself wishing it was me. This was so wrong.
“If you weren’t attracted to her, why did you kiss her?”
“Because she wanted me to, and I thought of it like a parting gift.”
I delivered the biggest stink eye ever. “You probably gave her the wrong impression.”
“It was a kiss, nothing more.”
“Maybe for you.”
“She wasn’t attracted to me either.”
“Are you kidding me? She was turning cartwheels when she found out she’d been paired with you.”
He sat up straight, ire filling him. “She wanted Nicholas Wells. She wasn’t interested in Nick.”
I let that sink in. How was it that he always had me regretting judging him? I blew out a large amount of air and stared out into the distance.
“Kate.” He brushed back my hair with his hand.
I turned toward him.
“Do you get this worked up with all your clients?”
“You’re my first and last.”
“Has it been that terrible for you?”
“You have no idea.” I wasn’t teasing.
He searched my eyes. “What are your feelings about intimacy? We never got to your rules about it and I’m sure you have some.”
That I did. “So are you asking about my personal or professional feelings?”
“I have a feeling for you they are one and the same.”
He was right, and it frightened me how well he seemed to know me.
This time I didn’t turn from him. I wanted to gauge his reaction. “First, there is a difference between true intimacy and physical affection. Unfortunately, most of us have forgotten that because everything from movies and TV to our peers sell us sex and make us think that’s all you need to have in a relationship, and if you aren’t having it, something is wrong with you. But having a real relationship means putting in a lot of hard work. We have lost the art of courtship in our culture.”
“You want to be courted?”
I nodded. That was exactly what I wanted in a relationship.
“Deep down I think most people do, but they’re afraid. And too often they make sex the anchor in the relationship because it’s easy, or at least they think it is, but it never carries enough weight to hold a relationship steady. And once it crumbles or wanes, they have nothing left. Now, if they make true intimacy their foundation, meaning they get to know someone deeply and build a place where compassion and commitment can happen, they build a place of safety amid vulnerability. If that is their anchor, then sex gets to be the pleasure cruise it was meant to be.”
“I’ve never heard nautical terms used to describe sex before.”
I tucked some loose hair behind my ear. “You think I’m ridiculous.”
It was his turn to become interested in the swans and lily pads. “I think you have some valid points. It’s easy to mistake sex for love. I’ve probably done it more often than I would care to admit.” He rested his hands on his knees and took a moment. “I certainly did in my marriage.”
I also leaned forward on my knees. “Tell me about Alessandria.” Whoa. Where did that come from?
His head tilted my way. “Are you inviting confidences? Because that door swings both ways.”
I thought for a moment. He was right. It wasn’t fair to ask him such a question if I wasn’t willing to reciprocate.
His eyes drew me in to the point I found my head gravitating toward him before I stopped myself. Then he asked a poignant, maybe even painful question.
“Are you willing to be open with me?”
“It’s not really my strong suit, but believe it or not, there was a time it was.”
“Before you were married?”
I jumped up, shocked. “How did you know I was married?” My voice cracked. I began to pace in front of the pond, feeling like I was naked.
Nick jumped up and hesitated for a moment, but before I knew it he’d wrapped me in his arms. “Hey, there.” He stroked my hair like I’d dreamed about when I would watch him to do it on his TV show. It felt better than I ever imagined.
I wasn’t sure if I was in heaven or hell, but I had never felt so safe and insecure all at the same time. I wanted to pull away, all while desperately wanting to sink into him.
“Your dad told me,” he whispered in my ear.
I pulled away, though I still found myself in his grasp. “Why would he do that?” It was something we never talked about with anyone unless it was amongst ourselves, and even then, we rarely spoke of it.
“I think he’s afraid you keep scaring off your friends.”
I laughed even though I felt like crying. “Technically, I wasn’t married.”
“I remember you saying that. Your dad mentioned it was annulled.”
There was that ugly word again. “Best and worst thing that ever happened to me.” I released myself from his clutches and started to walk around the pond. “I still can’t believe he told you.”
Nick stayed by my side. “I’ve upset you.”
“No. Yes. I don’t know. It’s embarrassing.”
“Why?”
“Because I allowed myself to be so taken in by somebody. Did my dad tell you the guy was already married?”
I saw Nick nod from the corner of my eye.
Out of nowhere, a floodgate opened. I wasn’t sure if it was because my emotions so desperately needed to be released or if I’d finally lost my mind. “Did he also tell you that he cruelly used me and left me while I was carrying our baby? And when I miscarried, he shoved the knife in further by dismissing me like I never meant a thing to him. Because I didn’t. I was a pawn in the game he played.”
The tears that had been pricking my eyes dropped one-by-one down my cheek, forming a tiny stream. I tried to wipe them away, but it was useless; they kept on coming.
Nick stopped in his tracks. This was obviously news to him. Great. I bore the rest of the tragedy without having to. I figured since my dad blabbed about the annulment, he’d given him all the gory details. I was going to keep walking, but my name on Nick’s lips made me pause.
“Kate.” We came face to face with each other. His gaze zeroed in on my blurry eyes. In his eyes I saw fury. “He’s a bastard.”
“I agree.” I wiped my eyes.
“I’m sorry, Kate.”
I shrugged my shoulders. “It’s not your fault. But now you know why I have my rules and why I do my best to keep people away, albeit not intentionally. I actually like people.” I smiled
He stepped closer. The fury in his eyes was replaced with a low, burning passion. “I like you, Kate.”
The fire in his eyes was consuming the oxygen between us, making me feel like I couldn’t catch my breath. His next question didn’t help.
“Do you like me?”
I do.