Chapter 20 – cat
CAT
My mouth is full of hair and my back aches.
I brush my hair out of my mouth. I always pull my hair back before I go to bed, so why didn’t I—
Shit.
My eyes fly open, and I blink at the blindingly bright sunshine beaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows. In Nate’s corner office, that’s way too many windows. I push myself up on my elbows, whipping my head as I realize exactly where I am.
I must have fallen asleep on the couch last night, after Nate ate me out until my brain turned to mush. With all the work I’ve been doing, I haven’t been sleeping much. Apparently, without an alarm clock to wake me up, my body was ready to sleep all day.
It’s almost 10:00 a.m., well past when everyone usually gets into the office. I lie back on the couch, covering my face with my hands.
Great. After working my ass off to prove I deserve this job, I’m going have to do the walk of shame in front of everyone I work with.
The minute I walk out the door, everyone will know.
Not only did I sleep with my boss, I stayed all night on the couch in his office. God, what will they think of me?
Oh no—what will they think of Nate?
My teeth clench. I can’t let that happen. God, why didn’t he just wake me up?
I scramble to my feet. There’s got to be something in this office I can use to disguise yesterday’s clothes. Maybe Nate keeps an extra jacket or shirt at his desk.
I’m about to open his top drawer when I notice the folded paper on his desk, set next to a plate with a chocolate chip muffin on top. Well, that definitely wasn’t there last night.
Unfolding the paper, I see the tight, spiky handwriting that I know instinctively is Nate’s. Despite how disastrous this morning has been going, it makes a smile tug at the corner of my mouth. He could have just texted me. Instead, he hand-wrote me a note.
Cat,
You looked so peaceful, I didn’t want to move you and wake you up. When you check your email, you’ll see I asked everyone in the office to work from home for the day. This does not include you. You’ve been working much too hard, and I insist you take the day to relax.
I’ll be in meetings across town all day, so feel free to use my apartment to shower, nap, or anything else you’d like. I’ll see you for dinner later tonight.
Please text me when you wake up, and eat the fucking muffin.
Nate
My smile is so wide now, it’s actually making my cheeks hurt. I take a seat in Nate’s chair, which I have to adjust down to normal human height, and unwrap the muffin. It tastes just as good as it looks.
I can’t believe Nate literally closed the whole freaking office, just so I could sleep in and skip the walk of shame. Who does that? He changed like forty people’s days just for me. That’s certifiably insane behavior. People with money are straight up nuts.
It’s also unbelievably sweet.
I don’t think anyone has worked this hard to make me feel special.
I can imagine Nate going to the coffeeshop next door and picking out a muffin for me, since he definitely doesn’t keep baked goods in his dead-empty kitchen.
Then he came down and tiptoed around to leave me the note without waking me.
Snapping a photo of the now-empty muffin wrapper, I text it to Nate.
Cat
I’m awake, and the muffin has been devoured, as you instructed.
His response comes back almost immediately.
Nate
Good. Enjoy your day off, Kitten.
Every time he uses that nickname, it makes my heart thud in my chest. Granted, he usually calls me Kitten right before he makes me come so hard, my knees give out.
But I think I like it even better when he uses it like this, casually. A reminder that he thinks about me when I’m not actively kissing him.
My appetite for breakfast might be satisfied, but I’m so, so freaking starving for more of Nate.
I’m going to make tonight’s dinner one to remember.
First stop: Nate’s shower. Then, my favorite French bakery to get fresh bread for croque monsieurs and macarons for dessert.
With a nice bottle of Bordeaux, it’ll be the perfect romantic night.
Though I have to say, eating plain old take-out pizza at Nate’s desk was pretty damn magical, too.
“Let me help you, miss,” the doorman says, hurrying to open the building door for me.
I shoot him a grateful smile, since my arms are full of bags.
I might have gotten a little carried away shopping.
Not only do I have cooking supplies, macarons, and two bottles of wine, I even picked up some candles to set the mood.
I also stopped by my favorite flower cart for a big bouquet of pink peony tulips to put on the table.
I’m not sure I’ll ever look at anything that’s the color pink the same again.
The doorman walks me over to the private elevator, flashing his own security card so I don’t have to dig in my purse for mine. Nate must have told them to let me up. I like the idea of the building staff knowing Nate and I are together.
Except, we’re not together—not really. We’re just fooling around, which is completely fine. Great, actually, since anything more would cause problems for both of us. Him, with the board, and me with my job volunteering at the shelter.
This doesn’t have to be anything serious—just a chance to relax and enjoy myself with a guy who makes me feel so good. What was that Pippa said about getting railed in a luxury bed?
We don’t have to put a label on it. It can just be…fun. I don’t need commitment.
I repeat it to myself a few times until it feels true.
I shuffle my bags around so I can pull out my phone and send Nate a text.
Cat
On my way up to your place!
Nate
I’ll be there in less than an hour. I’ll help you cook.
Cat
Absolutely not. Maybe I can trust you to open the wine, though.
Nate
Looking forward to proving myself.
I realize that I’m grinning at my phone like a maniac. It’s so rare to get Nate to joke around, it makes me feel like I’ve unlocked something special.
The elevator doors open to the apartment that’s so familiar to me now. I walk straight to the kitchen to set my bags down on the counter when I spot someone out of the corner of my eye.
I’m not alone.
There’s a strange woman sitting on Nate’s sofa.
I’m so shocked, I jump about a foot, dropping one of my bags. The pillar candles inside go rolling across the marble floor.
Nate mentioned a housekeeper, but I can tell immediately that this woman is no housekeeper.
Her long, slender legs are crossed gracefully, and she drapes her arm along the back of the couch like it belongs to her.
Her pristine ivory trousers and rust-colored silk blouse scream luxury so loudly, it’s practically deafening.
Her head turns sharply toward me, and she arches one sculpted brow. She doesn’t have to speak for me to know exactly what she’s asking.
Who the fuck are you, and what the hell makes you think you belong here?
I have no clue who she is. Maybe an ex-girlfriend who never gave her key back?
Or worse, someone he’s sleeping with now?
My stomach drops. Nate and I never talked about exclusivity, and he’d be well within his rights to sleep with whoever he wants. Still, jealousy burns in my gut. I want to snap at this woman and tell her to back off. Nate’s mine.
But I don’t know all the facts. There could be an innocent explanation, and I don’t want to be rude to a stranger for no reason and embarrass Nate. I swallow my jealousy and force a big fake smile on my face.
“Sorry! You scared me—I didn’t expect anyone to be home.”
I crouch to grab the pillar candles and shove them back in my bag. When I glance back up at the woman, she’s looking me up and down, a sneer on her full lips.
“You must be the assistant.” She spits the last word like it’s an insult. “Not as pretty as I expected.”
The words land in my heart like a dagger. They remind me that I’m not polished and sophisticated like she is. That the pilled pink sweater I’m wearing was pulled out of a secondhand bin. With just one look, she’s seen the truth—that I’m not enough.
As she stands and approaches me, I realize she’s not as young as I thought. She’s had work done—Botox, tasteful filler, maybe even a face lift. But despite the heap of cosmetic procedures, there’s no mistaking that she’s at least in her 50s.
How dare she! This bitch is way too old to be this rude.
It’s Pippa’s voice I hear in my head. If she were here, she’d be roaring at the woman, defending me like a mama bear. The least I can do is try and stand up for myself. I raise my head and look down my nose at the stranger.
“Who are you, exactly?” I ask, trying to mirror her imperious tone.
Her eyes narrow. “I’m Eleanor Walsh. Nate’s mother.”
Oh.
Any relief I felt about her being Nate’s mom, not his girlfriend, vanishes as she measures me up. She has the same cold gray eyes as Nate, but there’s something cruel in hers. When she looks at me, she obviously finds me wanting.
I know Nate’s father is dead, and he doesn’t have any siblings. His mother is the closest family he has left, which means that if I want to be in his life as more than a short-term hookup, I need her to like me.
Except, that’s not what I want, is it?
That’s not what’s happening here.
This is just casual. Secret. Fun. Nothing more.
Either way, I’ve got to do something to turn this conversation around, and fast. I set my bags down on the floor and extend my hand.
“You’re right, I am Nate’s assistant,” I say as warmly as I can. “Caitlin Daniels, but you can call me Cat. It’s nice to meet you.”
Eleanor wrinkles her nose and glares at my hand like it’s something dirty.
“I heard Nate was fucking his new assistant, some waitress he picked up. No qualifications. I knew it couldn’t be true, so I came here to tell him to nip that pernicious rumor in the bud before it cost him his reputation.
Apparently, there’s some truth to it, though. ”
My chest feels tight, and I’m having trouble taking a deep breath. I know how it looks on paper—I definitely wasn’t qualified to be his assistant, even though I’ve worked my ass off to prove I’m worthy of the job.
I don’t want his mom thinking the worst of him. So maybe it’s wrong, but I blurt out, “We’re not dating.”
Technically, that’s true. Whatever we’ve been doing, tonight is the first date-like thing we’ve ever done, and it hasn’t happened yet.
Eleanor scoffs. “Don’t bother lying to me. I know you’re together. You proved it, unlocking the door with your own key, and showing up with some cheap bread and wine.”
I’ve never felt smaller. I spent the whole afternoon picking up all my favorite things to share with Nate, and she’s already dismissed them as trash. My taste—hell, my whole lifestyle—is never going to match with someone who grew up wealthy.
It’s all too easy to imagine all the ways I could embarrass Nate if we were together. I’d show up to events in the wrong clothes and order the wrong wine at restaurants. All the invisible manners that are second-nature to people like Eleanor are gibberish to people like me.
I hang my head, staring at the floor so she won’t see the tears stinging my eyes.
Eleanor sighs. “I have an appointment to get to. Do tell my son I was here. Even a secretary with no experience should be able to forward a message, I’m sure.”
Her high heels clack on the hardwood floor as she walks toward the elevator. I don’t dare turn around until I hear the doors swoosh closed.
Nate’s luxury apartment feels massive and empty. Every breath feels like it echoes against the white walls and high ceilings.
Last night, I imagined that Nate and I could be something…
more. My daydreams about dinner dates and nights spent tangled in each other’s arms feel profoundly stupid now.
Eleanor made it very clear how people in Nate’s circle would see our relationship.
To them, I’d be just some incompetent assistant who only got her job because the boss wanted to fuck her.
Maybe that’s what I really am.
So what the hell am I doing here?
Eleanor might be a snooty bitch, but she’s right. I shouldn’t be sucking my boss off in his office or making him dinner in his apartment. It’s inappropriate, and it’s never going to turn into something real.
I quickly type out a text to Nate.
Cat
So sorry, something came up. I have to cancel tonight.
Picking up all my bags again is next to impossible. As soon as I get outside, I’m finding a trash can for the flowers. The food I’ll eat at home, but there’s no need to pretend I’m on a romantic date by myself.
It’s time for me to stop pretending and go home.