Chapter 23 – nate
NATE
Striking the match, I lower it to light the pink taper candles I placed carefully along the center of the table. Once they’re all lit, I stand back and admire my handiwork.
My dining room table is covered with flickering candles in pale pink-tinted glass jars. I’ve woven an ivy vine between the jars, with small bouquets of a bunch of other pink flowers I don’t know the names of.
When I stopped by the florist to order Cat’s flowers, I realized it might be nice to have some arrangements out on the table.
Alice and Ruthie, the married couple who owned the shop, were thrilled when I asked for advice on arrangements for a romantic date night in my apartment.
Next thing I knew, they were pulling out candle-holders and showing me inspiration photos of roses, tulips, and peonies.
I walked out of the shop several hundred dollars poorer, with a hand-drawn diagram of how to arrange everything and a new respect for florists.
Stepping back to admire my handiwork, I’m pleased with how it looks. It’s not quite as nice as the tables from the pictures, but it’s definitely romantic. I can imagine Cat’s face lighting up when she sees it.
I’ve never tried this hard to please a woman before—I never wanted to, before her. But after my Mom ambushed her, she deserves some extra effort. My fancy table might not be perfect, but it’s obvious I made an effort.
With that done, I head to the kitchen to check on the food. I ordered full Thanksgiving meals from a nearby restaurant, with careful instructions on how to heat them in the oven. Another surprise for Cat—I might not have cooked, but I used my oven, and the House of Cards is still standing.
The elevator doors ding while I’m rummaging in the cabinets looking for glasses. Fuck—Cat’s early.
“Hey!” I call. “Make yourself at home, I’m just trying to find the wine glasses.”
“All this for us? You shouldn’t have,” drawls a male voice.
No.
I turn around slowly to see all my poker buddies standing in my living room, smirking at the candles and flowers.
“The candles are a nice touch,” Luke notes. “Flowers are a bit much, though.”
“I’m just glad he’s still trying after all these years,” Beau adds.
I just gawk at them. “What are you doing here?”
They all stare back at me with perplexed expressions.
“You invited us,” James says slowly, like he’s not sure if I just had a stroke.
“You know…Thanksgiving,” Ryan says.
I realize that everyone’s holding a tupperware and a bottle of wine, except for Beau, who has a number of catering containers stacked in his arms.
Suddenly, everything clicks in my head.
Friendsgiving.
Weeks ago, when we discussed this, I offered to host. I’ve been so distracted with Cat that I completely forgot.
We do this dinner every year, but usually on the weekend after Thanksgiving.
We’ve never actually done it on the day before because inevitably someone always has another family commitment, but this year we’re all family-free.
No, no, no, shit. Cat’s going to be here any minute, and if she sees them, she’ll be too nice to kick them out on Thanksgiving. As much as I love the guys, I do not want them ruining our romantic night.
I feel a little bad for ditching them, but there’s no way I can let Cat down again when I just convinced her to give me a chance. Besides, they can always just go up to James’s apartment on the top floor. He has that massive dining room table.
“Sorry, guys, but you gotta go.”
Understanding dawns on James’s face first. “Wait…is this all for a date?”
“It’s Cat, isn’t it?” Ryan says eagerly. “Fuck yeah, Luke, you owe me twenty bucks.”
Luke smiles apologetically. “Sorry to bet against you, Nate, but I thought for sure you’d fucking blow it with her. Glad to see I was wrong.”
“O-M-G, a date with your new assistant?” Beau teases. “Scandalous. Can’t believe we heard the news before the Toronto Tea got the story.”
“No wonder your Mom was so pissed,” James adds.
I don’t bother denying it. They give me all the shit they want for it later, but right now, I want them all gone.
“Why don’t you head up to James’s apartment?” I grab Ryan and Beau’s arms, trying to herd them toward the elevator. “Better view from the penthouse, anyway.”
Before they can protest, the elevator doors open and Cat steps out. She looks fucking gorgeous in a simple ivory cardigan that clings to her body and a pair of well-worn jeans.
The broad smile on her face slips as she stares at the four men standing in my living room.
“Uh, hi. Happy Thanksgiving, Mr. Bishop,” she says to Beau.
Ryan and Luke howl with laughter, and James elbows them both in the ribs.
“Beau is fine, Cat,” the man himself says kindly.
“Sorry,” Luke chokes out between laughs. “It’s not you. It’s just—Mr. Bishop!”
“Nobody should ever be that respectful to this dude,” Ryan adds. “Seriously, his favorite movie is The Lion King.”
“A classic.” Beau’s voice is entirely serious. “And Nala’s a fox.”
“She’s literally a lion,” Luke says.
Cat’s mouth hangs open, and I can tell she doesn’t quite know what to say. She probably wants to make a good impression on Beau, her other boss. With all my other friends ragging on him, she’s torn on whether she should play along.
I scowl at them. If they’re going to make Cat uncomfortable, I want them out of here. Besides, I have other plans for my kitten that don’t involve an audience. Like carrying her to my bedroom, stripping off her clothes, and worshiping her until she forgets what a cold snake my mother can be.
“Cat, you know Beau.” I walk around them to put my hand on her lower back. “This is James, Luke, and Ryan. They were just leaving.”
“Wait, are you kicking us out?” Ryan whines. He pouts—actually pouts—like a little boy. “I was really looking forward to Friendsgiving. But you didn’t even remember. Don’t your best friends mean anything to you?”
Forget poker—Ryan’s real talent is the guilt trip. I’ve known him too long to ever let it work on me, but not everyone has my stone heart.
Cat turns to me, eyes wide. “I don’t want to ruin your plans. I can go. Really, I don’t mind.”
I grit my teeth. There’s no way in hell I’m letting Cat walk out of this apartment. I just convinced her to give me a second chance. I refuse to give her time to think about it and change her mind.
“You should stay, Kitten.” I glare at the guys as I say the nickname. Let them hear it. They might as well know that I’m claiming her. “I’m sure the guys will be gentlemen and leave.”
“But I made stuffing.” Ryan holds up his Tupperware emphatically.
“Wait a minute,” Beau says. “There’s no reason any of us should have to leave. Cat’s not as antisocial as Nate is.”
“True. Why don’t we all have Thanksgiving dinner together?” Luke’s a terrible actor. He couldn’t make that line sound innocent no matter how hard he tried.
“Great idea.” Ryan’s grin is diabolical. “What makes a Friendsgiving better than extra friends?”
Cat looks up at me with those warm amber eyes. “I don’t mind if you don’t,” she says.
“Give us a sec,” I tell the guys, taking Cat’s arm and pulling her into the kitchen. “I’m so sorry about this, Kitten. I completely forgot Friendsgiving. They do not have to stay.”
She smiles. “It’s fine, really. It’ll feel more like Thanksgiving with a big group, anyway.”
“I feel like an idiot for forgetting. I’ve just been distracted recently. There’s this beautiful woman who’s been on my mind, making it hard to remember things.”
Cat’s cheeks turn a pretty pink. “Well, I’m sure we’ll have some alone time after they leave, right?”
Fuck, now all I want is to fast-forward right to the guys leaving. But we’ve already basically committed to host. So I’m forced to turn back to the guys and say, “Fine. Stay, but behave yourselves.”
“Hope you’re ready for shots!” Ryan says cheerfully.
“Let’s see if we can get Nate drunk enough to tell Cat about the time he stole a golf cart and drove it over my mom’s flower beds,” Luke adds.
“If Nate doesn’t tell it, I will,” says Beau.
Everyone files in to set up the food, mischievous smiles on each of their faces.
I’m having Thanksgiving dinner with Cat and my poker buddies, who are apparently fixated on humiliating me.
I’m completely and utterly fucked.