29. James
29
JAMES
I ’d fucked up. Nothing had gone according to plan.
It was a first for me, in the worst possible scenario.
I stared out the window of my apartment, trying to make sense of what had gone wrong with Natalie, grappling with the unfamiliar sensation of failing. Even worse, there was a dull ache in my chest that flared every time her beautiful face drifted into my mind.
Yes, I was heartbroken.
In my mind, negotiating the deal with Erin Woodley was a next-level gesture, to prove to Natalie just how serious I was about making things right between us. Hell, it had taken a dozen phone calls and triple what I’d planned to pay to convince the reclusive writer to do me the honor of crafting three thousand words. Not that the time or effort to make it happen mattered to me. I just assumed that I’d come up with the perfect way to prove to Natalie that I was consumed by her, and I hadn’t even considered she’d refuse me.
I’d walked out of the office that night utterly shaken. Where had I gone wrong? Why couldn’t she see how sorry I was, and how much I missed her?
Did the words “I fell in love with you” mean nothing to her?
Ice shot through my veins as I considered the worst possible explanation for why she’d turned me away. Was it possible that Natalie didn’t feel the same about me?
I dropped into a chair next to the window as I tried to come to terms with the idea that I might have lost her for good.
No . Impossible. I felt it in my bones that the woman still cared for me. I’d seen the way she looked at me, felt the way she touched me. Natalie loved me, but what I’d done to her had slammed every defensive measure she had into place, and it was going to take a lot to get those walls to come back down. So what could I do? Natalie wasn’t the type who needed something big and showy to prove a point. More than anything, I knew that Natalie wanted to feel wanted. Cherished.
Seen .
I jumped out of the chair and started pacing the floor. I felt like I knew Natalie better than anyone I’d ever been with, which is why I’d assumed that hiring her favorite writer was the perfect move to win her back. But to her, it probably felt hollow, another example of me flashing my money to get my way. It didn’t do anything to assuage her fears that I prioritized Branson Designs over her.
But did the company have to come first?
The idea started to take root before I could fight it off. My immediate reaction was to shut the thought down, even though I knew at a cellular level that it was what I needed to do.
I considered our conversation after Christopher’s birthday, when she’d revealed herself to me during the drive to her apartment. At her core, no matter how tough she came across, Natalie was still a lost little girl. She worried that she was replaceable, that the people who loved her would eventually move on.
The realization was a knife to my chest. It was exactly what I’d done to her. It didn’t matter that my relationship with Heidi was totally manufactured, in Natalie’s eyes I’d found someone else and left her in the dust.
How could I have been so blind? So stupid ?
I started to conjure up dozens of ways to prove to her that my love for her was real. Could I hire Beyonce to write a song for her? I scoffed. No, Natalie didn’t want the showy stuff.
If my hunch was correct, all she wanted was me . My commitment. My heart.
I needed to prove to her that I saw her, I understood her, and she would always be my priority.
I strode to my home office and dug through the drawers to try to find paper. When was the last time I picked up a pen and written anything down? I finally found my stash of creamy, monogrammed letterhead Bernie had gifted me years before and sat down in the leather chair.
The pen hovered above the page, until finally, the right words started to flow from me.
Natalie
“That was the worst taco I’ve ever eaten,” I said as I crumpled the tin foil and tossed it on the coffee table in front of me. “Are there any more left?”
Steph laughed as she dug through the brown paper bag. “Desperate times, huh?”
“You know it. I forget to eat all day at work because I’m so freaking busy, and by the time I get home, I’m ready to eat cardboard.”
“Mamacita Tacos has got you covered, then. Soggy shells and grizzle-meat. Yum!”
It was after nine and I was drained, as usual. I felt like I was barely keeping up at work, but I wasn’t about to let on that I was struggling. In a way I was happy to be occupied, because it didn’t allow me any time to think about James. I could focus on all the good stuff that was happening in the office and shove down any stray emotions about the bosshole.
Because “stray emotions” were all they could be. I mean, sure, he’d done something beautiful to try to convince me that he had real feelings for me. And a tiny part of me believed that he truly did love me…but that just wasn’t enough for me. Not when I knew that, no matter what he told me, he’d always go back to his one true love: Branson Designs.
“How was your day?” I asked Steph as she tossed another horrible taco my way.
Her shoulders hunched and she gave me a tight grin. “Um, perfect? Sorry, because I know things are tough for you right now, but I’m sort of loving this fit model stuff.”
“I’m glad!” I said. “You deserve it.”
“There’s this guy…” she began sheepishly.
I bit off a hunk of taco and talked with my mouth full. “Tell me everything.”
“He’s a photographer. I’ve only seen him around the offices, but there is some serious eye-fucking going on.”
“Are you going to shoot with him?”
She shrugged. “Still not sure if they want me for ads or anything, so I don’t know if I’ll be modeling for him. But fingers crossed.”
“What does he look like?” I wanted to live vicariously through Steph, because there was going to be zero romance in my life for a long time.
The door buzzer sounded as she started to answer me, and we looked at one another blankly.
“Did you order more food?” I asked her.
Steph shook her head. “Nope, shitty tacos is it. Could it be Amazon?”
I frowned at her. “I’m not expecting anything—are you?”
“Not that I can remember.” She jumped up and ran over to hit the answer button. “Yes?”
“Package for Miss Natalie Reynolds,” came the scratchy reply.
“Okay, you can leave it in the lobby and she’ll be down to get it,” Steph shouted into the intercom as she glanced over her shoulder at me.
“I’m sorry, my instructions were to deliver it to your door. It’s a bit cumbersome.”
Steph took her finger off the call button and turned to me with wide eyes. “British accent! Whatever it is, it sounds fancy.”
My heartbeat sped up. What now?
“Tell him to come up.”
A few minutes later we heard a soft rap on the door, and Steph threw it open dramatically. On the other side was a tidy-looking gray-haired man dressed in all black, with a tweed newsboy cap on his head. He was holding a large box, perfectly wrapped in brown paper and finished with a thick black ribbon.
“Miss Reynolds?”
Steph shook her head and pointed at me. “Nope, you’re looking for the woman shoving a taco in her mouth.”
I waved at him wordlessly while I finished chewing.
“May I?” he asked, nodding to the package in his arms. “I just need a signature.”
I hopped off the couch and ran over to him as he placed the box on the ground and dug out a small clipboard. “Here you are.”
The form didn’t have any identifying information. I signed it quickly.
“Thank you,” I said, staring at the box and still trying to figure out what was going on. Then I realized my bad etiquette. “Ooh, a tip! One second please.”
He gave me a little bow and backed towards the door. “Unnecessary. That’s been taken care of. Have a lovely evening.”
The man was gone before I could reply.
“Do you think it’s from…” Steph trailed off.
I shrugged. I didn’t dare hope that James was trying again. Besides, it was no use trying to buy his way back into my life, no matter what extravagant trinket might be in the box.
“I think we need scissors,” I said, staring at it.
Steph jogged to the kitchen and back, holding them out to me. “This is one instance where it’s okay to run with scissors. Now get to it.”
I sliced through the packaging carefully to reveal a pristine white box.
“I bet it’s a gown. Or a Picasso, or gold ingots,” Steph said, bouncing on her toes. “C’mon, move faster.”
But I didn’t want to. I placed the box flat on the ground and slowly lifted the top off. Steph clapped her hands like a dork as she peered over my shoulder.
“No card?” she asked.
I shook my head.
Beneath the white tissue paper was a stretch of black leather, embellished with silver nail heads in the corners. I pulled it out slowly.
“Is that a trunk ?” Steph asked, sounding indignant.
“No…it’s a suitcase,” I murmured.
But not just any suitcase. It was a work of art, with grommets that made it look a little rock and roll, two black straps banding across it, a telescoping handle and wheels that turned on a dime.
Steph frowned as I admired the thing. “Well, that’s kind of weird. Why would he buy you a suitcase ? I’m sorry, but that’s not romantic at all.”
Tears flooded my eyes, because it actually was.
James was one of the few people who knew my sad history, that I’d never had a suitcase of my own during my many childhood upheavals. And he understood the trauma that I still felt about being forced to pack my life into a garbage bag. Sure, it was just a suitcase, but we both knew that it symbolized so much more.
That he’d heard me as I spilled my secrets. He understood how something so seemingly insignificant could mean so much. It wasn’t the gift that mattered, it was the sentiment behind it.
I glanced at her, blinking back my tears.
“Ohhh, of course. The garbage bags,” Steph said softly. “ Now I get it.”
I stared at the ridiculous, beautiful thing.
“Let’s see what the inside looks like,” she said.
I unbuckled the straps and popped the silver locks open to find a white envelope attached to the lining.
Steph started backing away from me. “I’m gonna, uh, go wash my face while you read that, okay? Holler if you need me.”
I nodded wordlessly as I walked back to the couch to open the envelope. My eyes filled with tears the moment I saw the scrawl of black ink covering the page.
Natalie ,
Before I say anything else I first want you to know how sorry I am for hurting you. I’m heartbroken that I brought you back to those painful feelings from your past. And what’s worse, through it all I made you doubt the depth of my emotions. I made you feel like you weren’t my priority. That all changes now.
Because I love you.
Of course, I’ve already told you that, but I want you to understand I’m putting those words into action. I’ve always believed that nothing mattered more than my legacy with Branson, but being with you has made me realize that a legacy built on bricks alone doesn’t mean a thing. I want to create a future with you, Natalie. To show you, every day, that my love for you will never waver. And there’s only one way to prove it to you.
I’m leaving Branson Designs.
I plan to step down as CEO and devote myself to living a life of balance. I want to focus on what truly matters, like the beauty of a sunset over the ocean. An unexpected trip. Laughing more. Sleeping late.
Loving you.
All I want to do from this day forward is make you happy. I want you to understand that you are irreplaceable to me. Please give me the chance to show you all the ways I love you.
I want to spend the rest of my life with you—but I need you to know that I’m not going to reach out to you again. The decision about how, and if, we move forward from here is entirely up to you. You’ve already pushed me away once, and I don’t think my heart could take it if you decide to do it again. Please consider this my invitation to do as you wish. Just know that my door will always be open to you, and if you’re looking for a place to call home, I’d like it to be right by my side.
Love always,
James
The letter dropped from my hand as I finally gave into my tears. It was more than I could’ve hoped for.
But…it wasn’t what I asked for. James stepping down? No. He was the heart and soul of Branson Designs, as much a part of the legacy as Bernie herself. There had to be a way to balance the company he loved and his love for me.
Steph came back into the family room and stared at me.
“What are you still doing here? Go.” She pointed at the door.
She was right. I jumped off the couch and got ready to begin my next chapter.