Chapter 33
33
Nick
Take the scenic route.
They said.
It will clear your head. Andrew and my mom carried on, convincing me to make this ridiculously long journey. I should have bought a first-class ticket to Sea-Tac and had my car shipped to Seattle.
After two days of driving, I’m over it and would be fine never seeing another pine tree again.
Seventeen hours of driving should have done what they said—cleared my head— but if being one with the ocean and surfing every chance I got this last month didn’t do it, then I’m not sure how an endless drive to the Pacific Northwest will cure me.
Fucking hell, I finally pull into the underground parking garage of my new building and take one of my bags from the back of my SUV. With shiny new keys in hand, I head up to the eighteenth floor and enter the . . . apartment? Place to live? I don’t know what to call this place, but I know what it’s not— home .
Dropping the bag on the bed in the main bedroom, I log on to the app on my phone and start opening the place up. The blinds slide up, and as I pad through the penthouse, the other blinds are already rising, letting the sunshine in throughout the rooms.
A push of a button has the coffeemaker perking to life. I usually hit a wall of exhaustion around three o’clock, but because of the drive, it hits early, and I need a jolt of energy. Sitting down on the couch, I text my mom because I know she’s worrying: Just got here.
Mom: Glad you made it safely. Does everything look in order? Should be stocked for you.
Me: Yes, you didn’t have to do that, but I appreciate it.
Mom: It’s what moms do. Let me know if you need anything else. Congrats again on the promotion, Nicholas. Proud of you. Love you.
My chest hurts, my heart suddenly pounding for no reason. The feeling has become a constant, but sometimes it likes to remind me it’s still here instead of the numbness I typically experience.
Me: Thanks. Love you, too.
I make a cup of coffee and move to the windows to look out, that pride my mom feels weighing on me. It’s a fear of disappointing them that has me sticking to their plan. I once thought I might change my life’s direction and leave that damn plan behind.
Then I met Natalie, and she made me feel I could take that plan and make it my own—create my own path—using the opportunities I’d been given. When I started thinking about moving to New York, I can admit it was for her, but it also gave me time to realize that I could still have my dream of a house on the beach. It didn’t have to be in LA. If the beach has waves, I can surf anywhere, even on the East Coast.
Hell, I ordered a wetsuit for the nearby freezing waters. If I can surf along the Washington coastline, I can surf in the Atlantic. With her, it never felt like a tradeoff. I was getting to be with Natalie full-time. That was winning the grand prize and the Super Bowl all in one.
My mom found the apartment online, but it looked fine to me. Does it matter? It’s a place to sleep and work when I’m not in the office. It’s temporary. Six months, maybe a year. The possibility of it being permanent has been floated, but we’ll take things one step at a time.
Any other time, this view would be a masterpiece. I can see far beyond the surrounding high-rises and skyscrapers of downtown Seattle. I put my hand flat to the window. The cold from outside is trying to get in through the glass. As a guy from Southern California, this cold weather is going to take some getting used to. Unlike Manhattan, which had an incentive to be there.
A promotion to Seattle to lead my own legal team, the apartment, and the money are what everyone dreams about when planning their careers. I’m getting it before the age of twenty-seven. There was no logical reason to turn down the offer, except one, and she’s blocked me from reaching her.
Give Natalie time to herself, to focus on her father, and then explain how this whole mess came about. But the last text exchange didn’t go as planned, so I’ve been confused about how we move through to find ourselves together again. Her blocking me gave me the answer I needed to make decisions regarding my future, but Tatum’s offer to help is still on the table. A few weeks to months. That was her requirement, and I’ve met the minimum.
But I’ve been debating while going through the loss of Natalie. The pain is still a constant ache, but it’s time for me to live again. Even though it’s only a few weeks, I can’t bear to continue living like everything’s going to be fine.
It’s not.
She blocked me. That tells me more than she will. Now I need to take a cue from her book and move on without her.
Despite the coffee's temperature, it doesn’t do much to warm me like Natalie used to. She was my personal addiction, a zap to my system reviving a heart that had lost interest in relationships.
Everything with her was in turbo drive, but I don’t regret a minute, except all the ones we were apart. I turn my back to the world and return to the kitchen to drop off the mug. I can wallow here all I want, but that won’t bring Natalie back to me.
I unload my SUV and drop the boxes and luggage in the bedroom closet. Finding what I need, I get dressed and then head to the office. I’ve been here a couple of times over the past few weeks to make sure the transition goes smoothly, but it’s time for me to settle in as well.
* * *
A week drags by, and even a quick trip to LA for Thanksgiving doesn’t fix my mood. I finally have an office ready to move into, so I figure Friday is a great day to officially begin.
Like in New York, the team remains intact from the previous leaders. I walk into the office in a tailored charcoal-colored suit. I fit the part of a successful lawyer down to my shoes even though I haven’t done my time. Being born into the right family deserves the credit, not me. I’m not na?ve to the fact that my co-workers believe I have no business being here. I’m also up for the challenge of proving them wrong.
I’m not just a handsome face with great taste in suits. I’m ready to tackle my job.
I’ll leave the office politics and gossip for Andrew to handle. I’m here to ensure we’re protected, legally, as we move into the next level of expansion.
I’m led to my office by a pretty assistant. I shouldn’t note her appearance like that. I won’t out loud, but by looking at Emily, it’s obvious. Did the universe place her in my path to distract me from the heartache I can’t seem to shake?
For some reason, I don’t think my mom would agree. This is different. She is. Emily’s not in my house—seventh, zodiac, or otherwise. Only Natalie is, remaining there sprawled out, staking claims to all corners of my heart like she does the bed.
The rush I had with Natalie still courses through me when I least expect it as if she won’t let me forget her or even let her go. “Fuck.”
“I can order a different chair.” I turn to find Emily still standing in the office, ready to wheel the chair out from behind the desk.
“No,” I say, putting my hand out. “It’s not the chair.”
“I’ll get you whatever you need, Mr. Christiansen. Just tell me what you like.”
I don’t mean to stare at her blankly, but that difference is growing more apparent. “It’s not the chair. It’s me.”
A move to a new city, just like a chair, isn’t going to change things for the better. This relocation may give me a corner-office view, but I miss the one of Natalie—the skyline dotted with lights behind her when we picnicked in an empty apartment. Seeing her standing outside my hotel room in Catalina with that quirked grin, annoyed at herself for having to knock on my door because she was locked out.
Her lying in bed when I had to leave for the airport, too beautiful to walk away without another kiss. The sun shining in her eyes as she stared out to sea on the patio of the bungalow. But all those views pale compared to the one of her in my arms, thinking she was dreaming.
The first time our eyes met, I knew I was a goner. I knew I was hers. It didn’t matter that we hadn’t even exchanged names. My soul held hers, and that was it.
That.
Was.
It.
My mom’s words return— Destiny will always find a way through a misunderstanding.
I’m no good for anyone else. I walk past Emily and out the door toward the exit. “Mr. Christiansen?” she calls behind me.
I keep running until I’m at the elevators, then call Tatum. She answers just when I think it’s about to go to voicemail. “Took you long enough.”
“I need to see her. I need to talk to Natalie. Will you help me?”
Without hesitation, she replies, “Let me work my magic.”
Falling against the wall, I slump down, holding the phone to my ear. “Thank you, Tatum.”
“Hurt her again, though, Nick, and I’ll hurt you.”
Her threat doesn’t sound empty. I may not be afraid of what Tatum would do, but I won’t cause Natalie any more pain, so it’s easy to agree. “I won’t. I promise.”
“Stand by.” The line goes silent. I look at the screen to verify that she did, indeed, just hang up on me. Yep, she sure did.
And I’m left wondering what stand by means, not by definition, but how long do I wait?
I need to get out of here because I’m too anxious to wait around for Tatum to call me back while surrounded by an office of strangers with their eyes glued to the new guy. Acting like a crazy person in front of Emily won’t help those rumors. Natalie would have laughed. Emily looked ready to call security.
Taking the elevator to the lobby, I set my sights on the set of doors in front of me. I chuckle under my breath as every last thing seems to be a reminder of Natalie, especially revolving doors.
Do I push through the side door or attempt the revolving doors again?
I vote for certainty, not willing to take any more risks. Where did that leave me before now? Alone and across the country in cold weather. That’s where.
The wind whips up, chilling me to the bone. I pull the lapels of my jacket closed in the front just as my phone rings. Moving off to the side, using a small concrete wall that juts out to block the wind, I look at the screen when it rings again.
The photo Natalie took the morning after finding each other again stays steady on the screen. My heart squeezes in my chest at seeing her beautiful face, but seeing this photo only means one thing. “Hello?”