Chapter 15
CHAPTER 15
SAVANNA
An hour later I’m standing at the doorway to the office. Nate hasn’t noticed me yet, his head buried in a box with his back to me. I take a moment to appreciate the way his shoulder blades flex and move beneath his t-shirt as he rifles through the box, looking for god knows what. My eyes, of their own accord, drift lower to his jeans, and I take a deep but quiet breath. Whatever he does in the gym, he needs to keep doing it.
Just because I know nothing should happen between us doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy the view.
“Objectifying me?”
The sound of his voice startles me, a yelp of surprise flying from my lips. My eyes dart upwards to see his neck craned, head twisted to look over his shoulder. Embarrassment colors my cheeks, our conversation from the elevator replaying in my mind.
“No,” I squeak, but it’s a lie, and we both know it. He caught me red handed.
His eyebrow raises as he turns to face me, arms crossing over his broad chest. It takes everything in me not to look down at the corded muscles of his forearms that I’ve looked at one too many times.
“I wasn’t objectifying,” I double down, clearing my throat. Lifting my head high, I add, “I was appreciating.”
Nate barks out a surprised laugh, his arms dropping from in front of him. He moves to sit on the edge of his desk in the one place paper doesn’t touch. “Something I could also be accused of.”
My stomach does a somersault as his eyes rove over me. It's not the first time I’ve felt the warmth of his gaze. The bar’s dress code is denim bottoms with black tops and it’s our choice in whatever that looks like. Today I went with a pair of light wash jeans and a black camisole with lace along the neckline that runs into a deep V between my breasts. It’s a little racy, but not racy enough that I couldn’t wear it to work. It caught Nate’s eye before we left, just like it does now.
When his eyes meet mine again, he smiles then glances at the clock. “How’s it going out there? You guys need some help?”
It’s only five. The bar isn’t too bad yet, but the dinner rush will start showing up soon. It was much worse at this time yesterday when the after work crowd came in, but today I’d be willing to bet we don’t get slammed for another hour.
I shake my head, dropping my shoulder against the frame of the door where I still stand. “Nope. We’re good. Bryn just sent me to take a break before the dinner rush comes in.” Pausing, I take a second to glance around the room at all the boxes piled up and then at Nate’s desk. It’s a disaster in here. “I was hoping you had a minute to talk.”
Nate raises an eyebrow at me. “That sounds serious.”
“Not serious in an ominous way,” I tell him with ease. “But first, are you hungry? Because I’m famished and I could use a bite to eat while we talk. I told Bryn I needed to see you, and she said to take my time.”
“Starving.” Nate’s eyes slide down to the V in my shirt, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. He shakes his head a second later, clearing his mind of whatever was going through it. “A break would be good.”
My stomach is full of butterflies by the time he gets to his feet. It seems like every time I remind myself that I cannot get involved with him, he does, or says, something that makes me waver. It’s as though there’s some kind of force beyond my control that keeps pulling me towards him.
We head out to the front of house, and I show off all that I’ve learned in the past two days by keying in our meals. Once I’m done, Nate fills a couple of glasses with sodas.
“Nate! How you doin’, man?”
We both look across the counter to see the man who gave me permission to drop a beer in his friend’s lap standing there. I’ve learned that the entire table was filled with firefighters from a different house. This guy, Tyson I think his name is, has been particularly flirty. When he catches my eye now, he flashes me a smile.
“Tyson Saxe.” Nate reaches across and shakes Tyson’s hand. “Saw you guys sitting over there earlier and was going to come by and say hi in a bit.”
“Beat you to it. Thought I’d come over and tell you how good your new girl is,” Tyson says, his eyes slipping back to me. I feel my face heat instantly and Nate tenses imperceptibly beside me. “She’s had us all laughing since we sat down.”
“Just doing my job,” I murmur, dread filling my stomach.
I wonder what Nate is going to think about this. It’s not like we’ve gone on a date, but there’s been clear interest on both of our parts, despite what I try to tell myself, and the way Tyson is looking at me in appreciation, I have little doubt that he’d ask me out given the chance.
The last time something like that happened to me, I ended up with a black eye and a lost job. Vincent had been sitting at the bar when I was working one night and one of the regulars was flirting with me, which wasn’t unusual. Vincent hadn’t taken kindly to it. The second my shift was over and we were in the car, he started screaming at me, demanding I quit. When I tried to stand my ground and tell him no, he hit me.
But Nate isn’t Vincent, and maybe he foresaw men hitting on me because he remains calm and collected despite being stiff as a board beside me.
“Guess I found the right woman for the job.”
I turn at his tone of voice, looking up to see him gazing at me with candor, a hint of affection in the blue depths of his eyes. It warms me from the inside out, melting away the dread that had turned my blood icy.
“Sorry to say that I’m stealing her for dinner, though,” he adds to Tyson, not sounding sorry at all.
Tyson obviously sees whatever has passed between Nate and me because he takes a step back from the bar, nodding his head in understanding. “Good to know, man. Just thought you’d want to know your girl is doing a good job.”
“Appreciate it. I’ll pop over to the table in a bit if you guys are still around.” Nate glances over to the table where the group is sitting, catching the eye of another guy, and lifts his hand in greeting.
After Tyson says goodbye, I pick at my nails as Nate leads me back to the kitchen. Our dinner isn’t ready yet, so we head back to his office, where we both stop just inside the door.
“Did you… I mean, were you…” I stumble, biting down on my lip. I want to know if what I just witnessed was him staking a claim on me, or something else, but I don’t know how to ask.
“Tyson can be a lot like Liam. He likes to date a woman for a couple weeks, maybe a couple months, and then it’s on to the next best thing,” Nate supplies.
“So you were just looking out for me?”
The same fire from yesterday is darkening his blue eyes. When he takes a step closer to me, I can feel the heat radiating off him in waves. My pulse quickens, anticipation filling my belly.
“Something like that.”
I don’t know exactly what that means, but words fail me when his hand comes up and he tucks a piece of hair that’s fallen out of my braid behind my ear. When it’s out of his way, his fingertips graze the skin of my jaw causing a puff of air to expel from my lungs.
There is nothing in this moment that I want more than for him to kiss me. The only problem, besides the one where I shouldn’t want it, is we’re at work. Anyone could come barreling around the corner into the office and catch us. That might not bother him, but it would bother me, so I blurt out, “We need to talk.”
It’s enough to send his hand dropping to his side, his eyes blinking rapidly as if to clear the thoughts from his head.
“Right,” he says, clearing his throat and taking a step back, putting some much-needed distance between us. “You wanted to talk to me about something.”
Stifling a sigh of resignation, I nod and grab the door, swinging it shut. “I do.”
“Whoa, this is a closed-door meeting? I’m not sure if I should be scared or excited.” When I turn wide eyes onto him, he grimaces. “Maybe I should have kept that thought to myself.”
At this I laugh, taking his arm to spin him around, pointing at his office chair. “It’s not going to be anything that you could guess, so refrain from being either.”
Once we’re both seated, I take a deep breath and let it out, but I don’t say anything. I take another moment to look around at all the paper he’s got stacked everywhere, along with boxes that contain more of the stuff. It makes me wonder just how bad he’s floundering with whatever problem he’s facing.
“Sorry,” he says, misinterpreting my silence and inspection of the room. “I know it’s a disaster. I also know you like things orderly. This is mass chaos. I can clear some space on the desk so we can eat.”
Nate starts trying to pick up piles of papers to stack on top of each other, but I reach out and put a hand over his for a brief moment, shaking my head. “Don’t. It’s fine. I’m more curious about what all of it is. You’re drowning in paperwork.”
Running a hand through his hair, he leans back in his chair and lets out a sigh. I can tell by that one action that he’s exhausted and overwhelmed. “Nothing to worry about. Just trying to get some stuff together for my accountant. This is all shit from my uncle that I’m trying to sift through.”
Now it makes sense. Though I gave Nate shit over his kitchen, he doesn’t strike me as the chaotic type of guy, and I realize it’s because he isn’t. This isn’t his mess; it’s his uncle’s, and he’s been left to pick up the pieces. I’ve seen it before.
“What kind of stuff?” I ask, even though I have a good idea.
Nate’s eyebrows raise in surprise over my question, and I can tell he’s not sure if he wants to answer it. A battle wages in his eyes over how much he wants to tell me because I think he knows the more he spills, the more danger he’s in of looking like he’s struggling.
The thing is, I already know he’s struggling.
“Just… bills, vendor invoices, expenses… business crap,” he finally says, trying for nonchalant. To the untrained eye, he might get away with it, but I know better.
“I’m going to help you.” I say it matter-of-factly, confidence ringing in my tone even though he’s fighting me before the words are fully out of my mouth.
“Sav, I appreciate it, but you can’t help me,” he says, and I watch him sag in his chair, giving up the charade of pretending to have it all together. “I can’t even help myself here, and if I can’t do that, there’s not much point in you trying to help.”
“How far have you gotten in the two days you’ve been at this?” I ask.
Nate eyes me warily, then looks at the stacks of paperwork in front of him on the desk. “Not very,” he admits. “I’m trying to make sense of it, but I never handled this side of things when Uncle Pete was around, and I’m not sure he really did either.”
I nod in understanding but push forward. “What is your stress level right now?”
“Through the roof,” he says, this time without hesitation. The words seemed to spill out, and now that they’re in the open, he cringes and runs a hand through his hair, embarrassment taking over. He doesn’t like to look weak, I get that, but asking for help isn’t a sign of weakness. I’m just not sure anyone has told him that. “I’ll figure it out, though. I always do.”
I don’t acknowledge either statement, instead forging ahead in my line of questioning. “How much easier do you think it would be if you had an accountant in here helping you?”
Nate laughs humorlessly, and shakes his head, his eyes locking on mine. “Finding an accountant who doesn’t cost an arm and a leg is impossible. But in a perfect world? I think I’d see it as a miracle.”
“Awww, that’s sweet,” I say, pressing a hand over my chest with an affectionate pout of my lips, though there’s a hint of teasing in my eyes. “You’d think of me as a miracle? That might be the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”
I can see the change in him instantly. Sitting up a little straighter, his eyes narrow as the gears turn and he starts to put everything together. “Wait.” He holds up his hands for me to wait, then points a finger at me. “You’re an accountant? I thought you were a financial advisor.”
All I can do is beam at him. “Financial advising was a blip. I graduated third in my class six years ago, and I’ve been licensed in Colorado as a chartered accountant for the last four.” My lips lift with pride at the dumbfounded look he’s wearing, so I press on. “I’m not licensed in California, but I can do all the work and you can take it to your accountant for him to finish.” I gesture to the paper, the boxes. “I know this looks like a disaster to you, but it looks like a fun puzzle to me.”
Nate doesn’t move. He doesn’t even blink. I’m not sure if it’s because he doesn’t believe me, or doesn’t believe his luck.
Leaning forward, I persevere, determined to have him accept my help. “I’ve done this before, Nate. It’s what I spent the last six years doing.”
The dumbfounded look is still there, but I can see he’s starting to process this, and what it could potentially mean for him. “Christ. You’re a fucking accountant.”
“I am. I, uhm—” I pause, my smile faltering, my stomach twisting uneasily as I consider something I hadn’t thought of.
I was about to offer him references, but if he were to call and inquire about me, people back home would know I was in California. Not something I want.
“If you want a reference, I could maybe try and get one for you, but… I, uh, I don’t really talk to anyone from back home,” I admit, dropping my eyes down to the desk. It’s the first time I’ve admitted that out loud to anyone.
A pang of homesickness hits me square in the chest and I have to take a steadying breath to keep myself composed as a wave of emotion I wasn’t expecting washes over me. Maddie’s face floats in front of my eyes and then my brothers. Connor, Devin. My dad. I miss them all so much.
“You in some kind of trouble?”
My head snaps back up, shock evident in the stare I give him. “What? No!”
I’m not entirely sure what kind of trouble he means, though. My first inclination is trouble with the authorities, but trouble can mean so many different things. Am I in trouble with Vincent? Well, if he found me I would be.
In a less indignant tone, I amend carefully, “I’m not running from the cops, if that’s what you mean.”
Nate regards me meticulously, turning my words over in his mind. My stomach takes a deep dive to my feet as he does, and I fight not to squirm under his watchful gaze. He knows something is off. Something I’m not telling him. I can feel it.
I can see the questions in his eyes as he nods slowly as if figuring it out. “But… you are running from something? Or someone?”
I’m taken back to the moment when I told him yesterday that I trusted him, and I know it’s as true now as it was then. There aren’t a lot of things that I trust these days, but Nate is one thing I think I can, even if I can’t explain why. I could probably tell him every sordid detail of my life from the last few years and face no judgment from him. In fact, I could picture him vowing to keep me safe and protected from Vincent.
The problem with telling him any of it, however, is that it opens things up for him to get hurt should Vincent ever find me. Getting involved with Nate in any capacity puts him in harm's way, something I’d be smart to remember in those moments when I want him to kiss me.
I wouldn’t put it past Vincent to try and assault Nate if he saw some of the looks we’ve shared in the past few days. Vincent would be livid. Thinking about it, I have little doubt that Nate wouldn’t feel his wrath. I can’t put Nate in that kind of situation. I can’t put him in that kind of danger. I can’t risk it. Especially after everything the man has done for me.
“Sav?” he says quietly, his blue eyes soft and patient.
I break out of my speculations with a heavy breath, mustering up a sad smile. “I’d rather we didn’t talk about it, if that’s okay with you.”
It’s confirmation enough for him, and he nods, allowing the conversation to drop, though I’m not foolish enough to think it’s the last time it’ll be brought up. For now he’s giving me this reprieve.
“I don’t know if I can pay you what you’re worth,” he says, bringing the subject back to the issue at hand. “I’m guessing I should be paying you at least what my accountant charges me, but there’s a reason I’m sitting here trying to do this and he isn’t.”
“Nate, I wouldn’t dream of charging you something,” I say, laughing. “You do recall the fact that you’re letting me stay in your home, right? And that you’ve fed me the last couple of days?”
He snaps his fingers like he’s just figured out the solution to the world’s biggest problem. “Free meals. Christ, you can drink for free too. And I’ll up your wage from the serving position, obviously.”
“Why don’t you see how I do first? Let me prove myself to you,” I caution. I have the utmost faith in myself, and I know I can figure this all out for him, but I’d like him to see that for himself.
He’s already shaking his head. “You won’t be making tips if you’re not serving.”
“I wouldn’t mind still serving some of the time,” I tell him with a small frown. I didn’t realize it was going to be one or the other. “It’s been nice to be around people.”
“Sav,” he says, leaning forward across the desk, his facial expression conveying how serious this is. “The government has threatened to shut me down in less than five weeks because the taxes haven’t been done in years. My accountant gave me two weeks to get everything sorted. From there, he gets to figure the math out. I have ten days left.”
He lets out a long, exhausted sigh that sounds like he’s been holding in for days. He curses right after, scrubbing his hands over his face.
“I haven’t told anyone that. Haven’t even spoken the words out loud to myself.” He surveys the disaster in his office and for a man who has been nothing but ready to take on and conquer the world for everyone else, he looks positively defeated by this, and what it could mean for him. He slumps back into his chair, his eyes finding a spot on his desk that seems fascinating, and adds quietly, “Even if I manage to get all this stuff to the accountant, and he gets it in before the deadline… if we owe a lot of money, I stand to lose the bar.”
My heart aches for him, with him, in that moment. The stress, exhaustion, and lack of knowledge have done a number on him. I feel for him. I know exactly what it’s like to bear a secret so big that it can destroy not only you, but those around you. I know how heavy that is. And I know what it’s like to keep it to yourself to protect those you love the most.
I look around at the mess in the office. It’s going to be more work than I thought, but I’ve faced tighter deadlines than this. And I think I can work even more magic than Nate’s prepared for.
Doing some quick math, I work it out in my head. He has less than five weeks, so I narrow that down to four. The accountant will want a few days with my reports and numbers, though I’m confident in myself. I know my shit. Three days should be enough for him. That gives me twenty-five days with this mess. Though, I should narrow my own deadline down to twenty-one and give myself a couple of days leeway. Just in case.
“Nate?” I murmur his name, bringing my eyes back to him. It takes him a moment to lift his to mine and I have to fight not to frown, instead giving him a reassuring smile once I see the crushing weight of the world in the blue depths. “Call your accountant and tell him he’ll have it within twenty-five days. It’ll all be prepared so perfectly for him that all he’ll need to do is look it over and submit it.”
Nate stares at me for a long time, his eyes assessing, weighing if he thinks I can do what I’m promising. I know I can, so I sit confidently and allow him the time he needs to figure it out. I know there’s a lot riding on this, and it can make or break his business, so if he needed a day or so to think about it, I wouldn’t fault him.
But instead, he says, “Okay. I trust you.”
I’m pretty sure those three words just melted me into a puddle of goo that he’s going to need to mop up from his office floor. Yesterday I gave him my trust, and today he’s giving me his. Given that I don’t believe he allows anyone to help him often, I feel honored. This place means a lot to him, and I don’t want to let him down.
He smiles at me, some of the burden easing from his eyes, and I swear my heart stutters as he adds, “You start tomorrow. Tonight, we eat.”