Chapter Fourteen
Nate
Nate sat at Robin’s kitchen table with his laptop, the smell of furniture polish and lemon antibacterial spray lingering in the air. Laurel must have got in some industrial cleaners because they were in Robin’s house all day, and now it sparkled like a show home. He was sure that the students would make it less show home-y in no time. In fact, a few of them were sprawled across the sofa and onto the floor, glugging cheap beer, ringing for pizza and watching what can only be described as ‘absolute shit’ on TV.
At least he had a place to work and a bedroom that did not include other people.
He pressed send on the email to Jess to let her know he was bringing Laurel, closed his laptop and waited. It took approximately 45 seconds for his phone to ring excitedly. It was ‘excitedly’ because he knew full well it was Jess wanting the exact nature of his relationship with Laurel, and every tiny little intricate detail of their every interaction. Jess meant well, but she was a bit much sometimes.
This was just a barbeque with his friends, not a date. Laurel just needed to get away from Little Willow Farm and relax for a bit.
Jess usually only called once and left a long and rambling voicemail whining about why he never answered his phone or why he didn’t return his calls, and when, for the love of god, was Benji going to see Uncle Nate again? True to form, after a couple of minutes, the voicemail symbol popped up on his phone. He’d listen to the first ten seconds and then delete it before he could feel even more guilty about not being a better friend.
So, when his phone vibrated again on Robin’s kitchen table, he looked at the unknown number intrigued.
‘Nate Daley,’ he answered.
‘Why, hello, Nate Daley.’
Nate’s eyebrows sprang up.
Once, he’d have done anything for Lucia if she purred at him like this, put her full lips together and dipped her chin seductively, but he’d been immune to that now for a long while.
‘Lucia, this is a surprise, how are you?’ He sat back in his chair.
‘I’m really good, Nate. How are you?’ she said. He could practically feel her flipping her curls over her shoulder as she spoke.
‘Yeah, good.’ He waited, but she didn’t say anything. ‘Where are you now, what are you working on?’
‘I’ve been in Huaca de Chena in Chile.’ She pronounced it ‘She-lay’. ‘It’s an Inca site.’
He rolled his eyes. Every archaeologist worth their salt knew of the pre-Colombian cemetery at the foot of the Chena mountain.
‘And you? What mysteries are you unearthing?’
Nate used to think that Lucia’s fondness for the dramatic was aspirational, but now it was just a bit pretentious.
‘I’m on an Anglo-Saxon site,’ he said, not wanting to tell her anymore. She almost never called him. There must be a reason for this.
She gave a small laugh into the silence.
‘I’m really looking forward to seeing you next weekend. I’m around for a few days. Actually, I wondered if we might…’ she was silent for a couple of beats, ‘catch up, just the two of us?’
Oh, so it was a booty call. Hmm, this was new.
‘I don’t know, Lucia, I’m really busy. I’m not sure I can,’ he said, ever the diplomat.
‘Too busy to see me?’ she asked, voice low and husky. He pursed his lips.
‘Yeah, sorry Lucia.’ He didn’t sugar coat it. ‘But I’ll see you next weekend. You can meet Laurel.’
‘You have a girlfriend?’ Her voice was sharper than she probably would have wanted.
‘She’s a friend.’ Nate huffed. ‘Look, Lucia, I’m looking forward to seeing you. It’ll be nice to catch up, but I really am too busy to see you after. I’ve got a funding visit to prep for.’
And he had no attraction to her whatsoever. There was no need or desire to see her after next weekend.
A few years ago, he would have jumped at the chance to spend a few more hours in her bed, bathing in the golden glow of her beauty and success, but not now. He’d got over that infatuation a long time ago.
‘Okay, fine, well I don’t know if I could have fit you in anyway,’ she said airily.
‘But didn’t you—’ He cut himself off. ‘But didn’t you call me’ is what he was going to say, but whatever. ‘Never mind. I know Alex is looking forward to seeing you.’
Yeah, he was planting that seed.
‘Oh, Alex is always looking forward to seeing me,’ Lucia said dismissively.
What was he supposed to say to that?
‘Oh, okay.’
‘But anyway, I suppose I’ll meet your new lady love on the weekend,’ she said provocatively.
‘Lucia, she’s not…’ he trailed off. What did he care what Lucia thought?
‘She’s not what? She isn’t your new love?’ Lucia pushed.
‘No, she isn’t. Look, you’ve caught me at a busy time. I’ll catch up with you on the weekend, see you at Jess and Owen’s,’ Nate said, ending the call.
He was pissed off. No, correct that, Lucia had pissed him off. Why did she think that he would drop everything for a couple of days’ roll in the hay with her? Why did she think that he didn’t have a basic knowledge of world-famous archaeological sites?
Nate would definitely have to warn Laurel that Lucia was going to be there next weekend, and that she thought they were more than friends. If she didn’t want to come, then that would be fine. So why did his stomach drop a little at the thought?
‘Nate?’ He was jerked out of his reverie by the girl with the spidery eyelashes. ‘Nate’ was it now? What happened to ‘Dr Daley’?
‘Yeah,’ he said, elbows on the table, eyebrows up.
The girl twirled a lock of hair around her finger.
‘With this new house, surely it would be best if people shared? I mean, I’d be happy to share...’ she trailed off, biting her lip suggestively. What the actual fuck?
‘If you can find someone to share with you, then knock yourself out,’ he said, grabbing up his laptop and heading upstairs, leaving her by the table.
He didn’t want to deal with that shit.
Laurel
It was Thursday and she hadn’t seen or heard from Nate all week. Sylvie had given Robin’s keys to one of the students she had been flirting with all summer, and she’d seen some of them moving stuff over to her brother’s house from her office window, but no Nate.
Sure, she had been busy with the insurance company, who were taking their own sweet time despite her saying how urgent it was, dealing with the frosty weather from her father, and trying to sort out a social media campaign to close the Pick Your Own while also trying to entice people to come to other parts of the farm. But a text or two to see how she was doing would have been nice.
Her phone buzzed on the arm of the sofa and fell down the side of the cushion. She put down the bowl of crisps and wiped her hands on her shorts before retrieving it.
She really did not want to hear all about it, there were way too many things going on, but all the management magazines said that she should be a supportive boss. So, she would be. Fine.
Laurel scrolled to the chat between her and Nate and read through the messages.
Fuck this. She was thirty-two. It wasn’t 1950. She could call him. Although he might just want to be out of the minefield of all this stuff with George Hibbert. Just a massive mess that he didn’t want to be involved in.
But they were supposed to be going to this barbeque on Saturday, and she had absolutely no idea of any details at all. Unless he didn’t want her to come anymore?
Well, only one way to find out.
He was immediately online and those three dots flashed back and forward accusingly for way too long.
In the end, he called.
‘Hey,’ she said.
‘Hey, sorry, look…’ He sounded urgent and well, quite frankly, a bit weird.
Laurel’s shoulders drooped. Was this the ‘let’s just be friends’ speech? The ‘I really like you, but as a friend’ conversation?
‘Yeah?’ she said, warily.
‘I’ve just had a call from Lucia. She’s going to be there this Saturday and I wanted you to be prepared.’ His words rushed together.
‘Lucia? Your ex, Lucia?’ On one hand her heart perked up at the fact it wasn’t the ‘we work together, so let’s still get on’ speech, but Lucia? Gorgeous, exotic, worldly ex-girlfriend Lucia? Just. Fucking. Great. ‘Why would I have to be prepared?’
‘Do you know more than one Lucia?’ he asked, sarcasm popping through.
‘No, just checking,’ she said lightly.
‘I told her you were coming with me, and she seems to think that we’re together. I told her we’re not, but she won’t take no for an answer. Jess, as well,’ he said, his words all mashing together, ‘she will think we’re together. I just want you to be prepared, there may be a lot of gushing and hinting.’
‘Oh.’ What was she supposed to say to that?
‘My friends can be a bit much, and I completely get it if you don’t want to come.’
Perhaps she shouldn’t go. But now it was potentially being taken away from her, she realised how much she was looking forward to being off the farm, away from Lower Houghton, away from all the pressure and stress. Just being herself for an afternoon, and not Boss Laurel, Stressed Laurel, Farm Laurel, EVERYTHING Laurel.
‘No, I was looking forward to it. But if you don’t want me to, I can stay home. It’s okay.’
‘You should come, Laurel,’ he said. ‘Just don’t say I didn’t warn you.’
She laughed at that. She was big enough to look after herself.
‘Right, well, okay. I’ll see you on Saturday then,’ he said. ‘I’ll pick you up at 11:30am?’
‘Okay, see you then.’ Laurel waited. The hesitation on the end of the line was like he wanted to say something more.
‘Bye.’
He ended the call.
Uh, what did he mean, he’d pick her up? He didn’t have a car here. She wasn’t even sure that he could drive. Not her problem.
Now the agonising worry of what to wear. She dialled Rebecca who didn’t answer, so she texted her instead.
She smiled at the nostalgia because this was exactly what going on dates was like in uni – her and Rebecca deciding what to wear over pizza the night before and gossiping about whoever she was seeing the next night.
Her phone buzzed with two different messages.
Lucia at university was next level. She didn’t walk, she floated. She was ethereal, beautiful, intelligent. Perfect. Her and Nate had been the perfect couple, but they weren’t together now, and he and Laurel were nothing more than friends. He had made that abundantly clear. So, it didn’t matter that Lucia was there. Didn’t matter at all. Besides, Laurel was moderately attractive, wasn’t she? She was a successful (kind of, sometimes) businesswoman, and she was proud of herself for what she had built at Little Willow Farm. Just because she wasn’t a world-famous archaeologist didn’t mean that she was a failure.
No. She could do this. She could rub shoulders with Nate’s successful friends.
Laurel ordered ham and mushroom pizza to be delivered from the pizza place around the corner and waited for Rebecca.
Nate
He checked his hair in the mirror. Again. Like it had changed in the thirty seconds since he’d checked it last. Those speckles of grey weren’t going anywhere, no matter how he styled it, and he refused to dye it. Just For Men was just not for him. He was embracing aging gracefully. Well, mostly gracefully.
The hire car had arrived this morning to the farm. Robin had whistled and insisted on sitting in it, while Jack had eyed it appreciatively. If he didn’t have his own Mercedes C Class convertible here, then he could at least hire one for the weekend.
His overnight bag was in the boot and he was sitting around the corner from Laurel’s flat, because of course he was ten minutes early. It would take about an hour and a half to get to Jess and Owen’s house.
Top down or top up? Is top down too pretentious? Or did top up on a sunny day mean that he was one of those people who had their tops up on a sunny day? He hadn’t sweated through his shirt, had he? And yes, he knew he had three extra shirts in his bag, just in case.
‘Hello?’ Laurel’s voice cracked through the intercom after he pressed it.
‘Hey, it’s Nate.’
‘I’ll be down in a sec, just putting my shoes on.’
Nate took a couple of steps away from the door and assessed the lazy main road of Lower Houghton. He smiled. The greengrocer’s wares outside on crates, the newspapers in the holder by the door of the newsagents, the smell of the bakery. He could definitely get used to it here.
The door opened and closed behind him, and he turned to face Laurel.
‘Hey.’ He smiled at her. ‘You look nice.’
She was wearing a floral dress and some kind of casual high wedge sandal things. It was perfect. She’d fit right in.
‘Thanks,’ she said.
Nate frowned. ‘Where’s your bag?’
She looked at him like he was crazy and pointed at her handbag over one shoulder.
‘No, no, your overnight bag.’
Laurel’s face flattened in shock and surprise.
‘Overnight?’ she squeaked. ‘You didn’t tell me it was an overnight thing.’
Nate’s stomach dropped. ‘I’m sure I did. I mean, I did, didn’t I? We all have a few drinks and crash at Jess and Owen’s.’
‘No, you didn’t frigging tell me! Otherwise, I would have packed an overnight bag!’ Laurel swivelled on those heels and unlocked her door. ‘You’ll have to help me,’ she called over her shoulder.
Help her do what? Why would she need help packing? It was only one night. He followed her into the hallway.
‘Stay here,’ she urged and she charged up the stairs, reappearing a moment later with a bundle of clothes.
‘This dress, or this one?’ Laurel asked, holding up first a blue dress and then a yellow one with white flowers. ‘Or shorts? These?’ She waved a pair of forest green shorts in his face. ‘With a white top?’
‘Um,’ he hesitated. He was crap at stuff like this.
She huffed.
‘Look, it took me and Rebecca about two hours to decide that this was the dress I should wear today. I thought we’d be home by eight or so, but now, I’ve got perhaps an evening to change for, and clothes for tomorrow as well.’ She actually looked rather concerned. ‘It’s hard, Nate. I don’t want to look stupid.’
‘You would never look stupid,’ he said, raising an eyebrow. ‘You’re beautiful, Laurel.’
She stilled and jerked her eyes up to his. He held her gaze easily, because he wanted her to see it was the truth. Beautiful, accomplished and more than capable, Laurel probably wasn’t told often enough that she was, and he wanted her to know. He was a great believer in upfront honesty.
The air between them was loaded with something tangibly warm. Her mouth opened and closed, but no sound came out. A flush flowed up her neck into her cheeks, and her eyes widened. Big, round, bronze eyes stared at him. Was that disbelief? Was she surprised? Objectively, she was pretty much perfect; brown hair that glowed red and gold in the sunlight, plump kissable pink lips, and a figure he knew would fit against his just right.
‘It’s the truth,’ he said quietly, a frown crossing his brow.
Her throat bobbed in a swallow and she dropped her eyes.
‘Nate,’ she huffed out a laugh, shaking her head.
‘Usually, when someone gives you a compliment,’ his voice was low and he took a step closer, ‘you say thank you.’
He swallowed and smiled to ease whatever this thickness was between them, but his stomach was fluttering at the way she caught her breath. Something flickered across her face, but he couldn’t be sure what it was. Flustered, sure, and she obviously didn’t know what to do, what to say. Laurel had not been complimented enough, and Nate felt a sudden anger at all the men who made her feel like this – shocked when told she was beautiful.
She was full of contradictions. Assertive and confident when it came to her farm, her family, but shy and tentative, bashful almost, when anything was about her personally. There was a softness, a vulnerability about her that he instinctively knew he couldn’t crush.
‘Thank you,’ Laurel whispered.
‘Okay.’ He grinned. Progress. A tentative smile pulled at her mouth.
Nate randomly pointed to a dress in the pile. ‘Take that one if we change in the evening and the shorts for tomorrow.’
Laurel nodded and cleared her throat.
‘Right, I will. I’ll just be a minute.’ She gathered the clothes and hurried up the stairs. There was a clatter from above, from what Nate assumed was the bathroom as she knocked over bottles in her hurry to get her overnight things ready.
‘I’ll be two minutes,’ she cried.
‘Don’t rush, it’s okay,’ he cried back, tucking his hands in his pockets.
‘I don’t want to be late.’ She popped her head around the door.
‘It’s okay. Alex will be late and so will Lucia. They’re always late,’ he said.
‘That’s fine for them, but I don’t like being late,’ she huffed. She shut the door and reemerged after a moment or so, rolling her carry-on suitcase behind her. ‘Okay, I’m ready.’
Her face was flushed with exertion.
‘Okay, let’s go.’
He moved up the stairs to reach for her case and she let him take it, ushering him out the door, and onto the street.
He led her around the corner to the car.
‘Wow, is this yours?’ she asked, dragging her fingertips across the bonnet.
‘I’ve hired it, but I’ve got one at home,’ he said opening the door for her before putting her case in the boot. She looked at him with that eyebrow up questioningly as he made himself comfortable in the driver’s seat.
‘I like cars.’ He shrugged.
‘I’m not really one for cars,’ she said. ‘But I like this one.’
‘Shall I put the top up or keep it down?’
‘Down.’ She looked at him like he’d just given her candyfloss. ‘I’ve never been in a convertible before.’
‘Down it is.’
He smiled, pulling off.