Chapter Twenty-One
Nate
“I live for moments like this,” Clara says Wednesday two weeks later during our lunch break. We decided to head out of the studio today, and we’re sitting in a Mexican restaurant, wolfing down our food. Well, I’m wolfing down my food. Clara is clutching a magazine to her chest. She just finished reading out loud a review of a segment we did about six months ago, which was broadcast last week. “All those long hours, lack of sleep, and frantic pace. It’s all for this.”
“It’s definitely motivating to have our work acknowledged,” I agree, taking a huge bite from my burrito.
“Do you want to keep this?” She nods toward the magazine.
“Nah, I’ll buy one for myself. You keep it. You’re going to read it about half a dozen more times today.”
She smirks. “Make it a dozen.”
“Do you plan to do any work in between?”
“Don’t be an ass.”
I shrug, pointing to the to-do list on my phone. “That’s waiting for us.”
Clara finally sets the magazine next to her plate, concentrating on her food.
“I’ll get to it right after I read the review a couple more times. By the way, are you going to take the weekend off again? Not to be nosy, but I need to know if I can relax again or if I’m going to receive frantic e-mails from you at unholy hours.”
“You make me sound like an ass.”
“No, I make you sound like someone who didn’t want to have a private life, which you now do. I wholly approve of it, by the way. I’m learning to have a private life too. It’s glorious. So, can I expect more free time?”
“So this has nothing to do with you wanting to know what I’m doing on my weekends?”
“Well, if you volunteer that information, I’ll gladly listen, but it’s not why I’m asking.”
I’d believe her if Clara wasn’t the most curious person in the world. In fact, she deserves a prize for not questioning me about Alice until now, especially since she seems to have become very close to Pippa. I’ve overheard them talking on the phone a few times, making plans.
“So?” she asks, almost bouncing off her chair.
“Eat, Clara, or we’ll never finish lunch.”
“Okay, how about this? I eat, you talk.”
“Deal. First of all, you don’t have to answer my e-mails on weekends. I just send them to you so you can get started on them Monday morning.”
Clara swallows her mouthful of food, then says, “Yeah, but if I wait until Monday, you’re grumpy. You tend to bite people’s heads off when you’re grumpy.”
“I’m taking the weekend off,” I assure her.
“Hallelujah! I’ve been telling you to do that for years. Can you tell me who finally convinced you?”
“Who? What if I took up a hobby?”
“Just a wild guess.”
“And you’re still not being nosy?”
She shakes her head vehemently. “No, just asking so I know how long the miracle lasts.”
I barely hold back a smile at her transparent efforts.
“So? Is it Alice Bennett?” she presses.
“Yes.”
Clara flashes me a megawatt grin. “I knew it. So you two are getting along well?”
I nod, but by Clara’s reaction, you’d think I’d just announced my wedding. She claps her hands excitedly, then puts them together as if in a prayer.
“Thank you, God, for listening to my prayers. I knew only a good-hearted but wild woman could make an honest man out of him.”
“What was I before?” I ask with fake horror.
She presses her lips together, her hands falling by her sides. “I can’t insult you. You’re my boss.”
“I already feel insulted, so you might as well go on and say what you were going to.”
“I’ll just say this: I very much prefer this version of you.”
To be honest, I prefer this version of myself too. Something’s changed since Alice became a constant presence in my life. I’ve always liked solitude, having my own space. But now I like that I can feel her presence in my apartment even when she’s not there, even though I sure as hell like it more when she is there. This is so different to the way I used to do things, to the way I used to like them, that I almost don’t recognize myself.
Alice has taken over my entire place. My room smells like lavender, my pillow smells like her, and I have more dirty laundry than usual because Alice has the habit of wearing my best shirts inside the house. I don’t really mind it because the woman looks sexy as sin wearing nothing but my shirts.
“Earth to Nate.” Clara’s voice snaps me out of my thoughts.
“What?”
“I’ll be damned. I’ve never seen you like this, lost in thought, smiling to yourself like a goof.”
I groan. “I really should set more professional boundaries between us. You calling me a goof means we just reached rock bottom.”
Clara shrugs, eying the last bite of food on her plate as if undecided whether she should eat it or not.
“No, it means you’re finally letting someone in. Now, take care of Alice, or I’m going to kick your ass.”
“You’ve been hanging out with Pippa, right?”
Clara shrugs. “That doesn’t have anything to do with this.”
“So whatever I’m telling you stays between us?”
“Only if you insist.”
“You work for me! You should be on my side.”
“No. It’s called female solidarity. A paycheck can’t come in between.” She shoves her spoon in her mouth, pointing to her now-empty plate, and I tell the waiter we’re ready to pay.
“Good to know.”
“By the way, have you read Horowitz’s e-mail about the London studio’s reaction to the proposals? The only parts they actually liked were the ones you brought to the table.”
“I read it. Abbott will eventually get a grip on things.”
“Or he’ll be fired. Horowitz was saying the other day that he doesn’t think Abbott will last one more month. He thinks they’ll come begging you to take over after.”
“I don’t like to spend my time talking about what-ifs.” My tone is sharper than it needs to be, but I have no desire for this conversation. For the longest time, I’ve carefully separated my personal and professional lives, but lately, every time someone mentions how Abbott might break under the pressure, I immediately think about Alice and what that would mean for us.
The waiter arrives with the tab. The second he’s gone, Clara leans over the table. “So, if I take back what I said and swear anything you tell me stays between us, would your answer change?”
“Nice try, Clara. Nice try.”