Chapter 9
He paid for dinner while I used the restroom.
“No, Nate,” I say when I return and find the check handled. “This was supposed to be my treat. As a thank you for letting me stay with you.”
“I thought being my wingwoman was supposed to be my treat,” he says.
“Well, that too. You can have two treats.”
He shakes his head. “No, I can’t. Besides… if you’re that set on taking me out for dinner, Harp, I’ll let you in the future.”
We leave the restaurant and cross a busy street. It’s a Friday in Chelsea, and the energy is high. So is mine. I feel buzzed on life, and on a glass of wine, and the abundance of opportunities.
The people-watching here is something else.
The bar is an upscale sort of place, with hedges trimming the terrace and the bouncer keeping a tight control over who’s let in. We find a spot in the corner, looking out onto the busy locale. Music plays softly from speakers hidden around us.
Nate orders a gin and tonic, and I ask for a glass of white wine. This time, he lets me put down my card. But he’s grumbling when the waiter walks away.
I nudge his leg under the table. “Come on, surely your ego isn’t that fragile.”
“Fragile?” His eyebrows rise, and that faint smile curves his lips again. The one that feels the most genuine. “Didn’t know you saw me that way, Harp.”
“I didn’t, at least not before I learned that letting a woman pay for dinner and drinks makes you uncomfortable.” I’m smiling over the rim of my wine glass. “I already know you’re rich. I’ve seen it. You got nothing to prove to me.”
“Maybe,” he says, leaning forward on the table, “that’s not why I’m unhappy about this little idea of yours.”
“Oh? Then what is it?”
He runs a finger along the thick edge of his tumbler. “Maybe I’m uncomfortable with you spending money on me when it’s worth more being spent on yourself.”
I narrow my eyes at him, and a flush creeps up my cheeks. It feels like an insult. Compared to him, I’m poverty itself. And he’d seen where I stayed before he swooped in and offered me a non-bug-infested room and a shower with excellent water pressure.
My conversation with Dean weighs heavily on me. It always takes me a while to shake off his comments.
“Harper,” he says with a sigh. “I’m always uncomfortable when a friend spends money on me.”
The admission makes me nod and lessens the pang of embarrassment. “Is that a part of having so much?”
“I don’t want people to spend their hard-earned cash on things I could take care of myself.”
“Maybe you just don’t like people taking care of you.”
His brows draw together, and there’s no hint of a smile on his face. Only intense focus. I thought he’d smile at my remark. Return to the playfulness we’d had all evening.
“Maybe,” he finally says. And then he smiles, a broad, charming smile, and leans back in his seat. “But you’ve finally done it. I’ll suffer through this drink to make you happy.”
“You’re very generous.”
He inclines his head and raises his glass. “I know, I know.”
It only takes me a few minutes to glance around the room in search of potential partners. There are several beautiful women here—plenty of them around my age, a few younger, and some perhaps older. Nate is in his late thirties. But he could pass for a thirty-year-old rather than thirty-eight, and I wonder…
“Okay,” I tell him.
He huffs a quiet laugh. “Okay? What’s happening now?”
“I’ve done some reconnaissance. The hostess was definitely checking you out on the way in.”
Nate’s voice turns into a drawl. “Was she now?”
“Yes. And there are at least three women here I think would be interested in you. The one a few tables down, with the large drink? She’s glanced at you twice in ten minutes.”
“Damning evidence,” he says.
“Oh, laugh all you want, but I know women.”
“Mm-hmm,” he says again. Twisting slightly in his chair, he surveys the bar. The place is pretty packed. It feels like the kind of place Nate would frequent regularly. Or Aadhya from work. A place to see and be seen.
A tenuous silence falls between us.
And I feel just a tiny bit stupid. He has always been kind to me. We’ve gotten along well. But now, we’re sitting here, at my behest, just so I could thank him for his generosity. Lord knows he probably has ten other things to do rather than sit here with me.
His home is beautiful. I couldn’t be more grateful… and a part of me wonders, looking at him in my peripheral view, if he kept his promise. Or if Dean knows exactly where I am.
I take another long sip of my wine. “So what kind of women are you interested in? Or men, perhaps? Both? That would give me twice the options.”
His eyes glint with amused patience. “I’m attracted to women.”
“Okay then, I suspected that, but one shouldn’t assume.” I tap a finger along the rim of my wine glass. “And what are you looking for?”
“What makes you think that I’m looking at all?” he asks.
I swallow. “Maybe you’re not. That’s totally fine, too.”
His lips curve. “Tell you what, I’ll let you know the type of women I’m interested in dating if you spill about the kind of guy you’re looking for.”
My eyebrows shoot up. “Me?”
“Yes. Only fair,” he says. “If you’re to be my wingwoman, I’ll need to return the favor one day.”
I shake my head. “I’m not looking to date.”
“Maybe not right now,” he says offhandedly and takes another long drink of his gin and tonic. “But you will be in the future.”
The thought is… true. Even if it feels very distant right now. Way in the future.
I dig my teeth into my lower lip. “Okay. You describe your ideal woman, and I’ll do the same.”
His eyes glow. “And I’m supposed to go first?”
“Yes! We’re talking about you dating.”
Nate chuckles. “Why don’t you tell me what you think I want. If you’re that great of a wingwoman.”
I roll my eyes. “You know, you can be really frustrating sometimes.”
He grins crookedly. “I know. Now come on, lay it on me.”
I cross my legs. Look at him thoroughly, assessing. Take my time. “This feels like a trap,” I finally say. “But okay. Judging from what I know about you… and what I’ve heard… you date a lot of beautiful women. I believe there were at least two models and one C-list actress.”
His lips twitch. “Right.”
“Sorry. B-list?”
He lifts his hands, palms out as if in surrender. “Hey, don’t let me interrupt. Go on.”
“Right. So, beauty is important.” But then I frown, because I realize I don’t know much more than that. Dean had spoken occasionally about Nate’s dating life, shared stories from their fifteen-year friendship before I entered the picture. His failed engagement, and the real estate heiress he was briefly connected to.
“So far I seem somewhat superficial,” he comments.
“Yes, well, I’m thinking. I guess you’d want someone who has a flexible schedule.”
Nate’s eyes widen. “Wasn’t expecting that one. Okay.”
“Yeah, that way she could join you when you travel or move countries. I also think you’d like a woman with her own career. Not too much of one, of course,” I say with a smile, “so it wouldn’t take her away from you. Just the right amount of non-threatening ambition.”
His eyes darken, but the crooked smile is still in place. Even if it looks a bit frozen. “I see,” is the only thing he says.
I shrug. “Just what I’ve observed about men like… well, like you. I think you also want a woman who is great at socializing and knows what to say and who to invite. You know, who can go with you to the gallery events and things like that.”
“Mm-hmm,” he says. “Her personality sounds nonexistent.”
That makes me laugh. “Okay, but see, that’s where I need your answers! I just gave you the basics, the essentials. Now tell me what you like.”
“Right. Well, aside from a woman needing to be beautiful, constantly available, unambitious, and good at making small talk… I suppose I like women who can surprise me.”
That makes me sit up straighter. “Who surprise you?”
“Yeah.” His lips curve, crookedly. “I like the unexpected.”
“Okay. That’s a good metric… even if it’s kinda hard to define.”
“It is, and that’s the point. I like them funny, too.”
I chuckle. “Of course, they’d have to laugh at your jokes.”
He shakes his head, but amusement glints in his eyes. “I don’t need an audience.”
“Right, right. Men always say that.” I wave my hand, brushing that away, still smiling. “I think you like your women clever, too.”
“Of course I do,” he says.
My appraisal of him rises. I’ve seen enough rich men who rate that particular quality about a woman low on their list of demands. Who consider it a nice bonus rather than a necessity.
He leans toward me, bracing his hands on the table between us. “I think your questions are far more telling than my answers.”
Something flips over in my stomach. “Are they?”
Nate just stares back at me. “Who’s your ideal man, Harper?”
“I don’t know. Why don’t you tell me? Return the favor?”
His lips twitch with dry amusement. “I’m willing to bet it’s someone who wants you for more than an arm candy to events.”
I take a sip of my wine and motion for him to carry on.
His smile flashes again. It looks more dangerous this time. “You asked for it, so you ready to hear what I really think? I think that the man your questions allude to me being is someone you never want to date. Again. You’re done. For good this time.”
Everything inside of me stills. Goes cold, and then boils hot. Heat races up to my cheeks. Did he just imply…?
Judging from the way his eyes glimmer dangerously, he did.
Because the man I’d assumed he was, based on his wealth, his job, his history… is pretty much what Dean had been. And that shallow woman I pictured Nate being attracted to, was who Dean wanted me to be.
And what had smothered me until I couldn’t take a proper breath.
“Maybe,” he continues, voice dark, “you want a man who doesn’t see your ambition as a problem or a threat. Someone who doesn’t want a palatable partner for social events, who expects your schedule to effortlessly fit his.”
I can’t look away from his gaze, even though it feels like it’s burning through me. On its imaginary shelf, I can hear the box rattle.
“Maybe,” I say quietly. “I agree with you about that.”
He takes another sip of his drink. Leans back in his chair, like he has noticed that I need space and gives it to me. But my heart is still beating fast. Nate’s more perceptive than I had thought.
“You still want a man who appreciates beauty, though.” The words are easy, light. He’s looking out the window as he says it, at the line of people now trying to get into the upscale bar.
The return to his charming self makes me chuckle, and the tension in the air bleeds out. This is the Nate I’m familiar with.
“Describe him to me,” he says with an amused drawl. “Your perfect man. Would he be a painter? An artist? Someone you could talk with about art history?”
My smile feels easier now. We’re on safer ground. “Using that logic, your perfect woman is someone who understands… whatever it is you do at Contron.”
He huffs a laugh. “If that’s one of the criteria, I’ll be single for life.”
“Maybe that’s not so bad. I’ve thought about that lately. Maybe I’ll join you in glorious singlehood. Focus on my career and my friendships, and on the art collection.” I hold up my drink with a smile.
He looks at it dubiously, but then lifts his own with a small shake of his head. “This,” he says, “is the stupidest thing I’ve ever toasted to.”
We clink our glasses together.
“Why?”
“Because you’re obviously not going to be single for the rest of your life. You mentioned the hostess checking me out? Well, there’s a group of guys across the room, and at least two of them have been looking at you longer than they should have if they weren’t interested.”
On reflex, I glance over to where his gaze has shifted. “Really?”
He snorts. “Single for life, my ass.”
I grab my drink and move over to his side of the table, sitting next to him on the lounge sofa. “I need a better view,” I tell him.
“You’re a woman on a mission.”
“Of course I am. Okay… see the woman at the bar, talking to her friend? The brunette with a glittery handbag. She looked at you while we were walking in.”
“Wow,” he says. “I’m flattered.”
I roll my eyes. “What should I do? I’m thinking I go up and order, and while I’m waiting for a drink, I’ll talk to her. Start up a friendly conversation, and then you join us.” Adrenaline is already flowing through my veins at the notion. I used to do things like this often when I was a college student. Cared less about what people thought.
Nate’s thigh rests against mine. “I’ve never seen you like this before.”
“Like what?”
“So hellbent on a stupid idea.” There’s reluctant amusement in his tone. “I’m almost enjoying it.”
“Almost?”
“Nearly all the way there,” he says. “Could be convinced if you went just a bit crazier.”
My heart speeds up. “Maybe that’s what I need. To get crazier. Even if my family already thinks I’ve gone insane.”
“They do?” he asks. “You seem perfectly rational to me.”
I look at him out of the corner of my eye. “I can’t tell if that’s sarcasm or not.”
“I told you, I like women who surprise me,” he says. “You certainly do, Harp. All the time. Now come on. Let’s get out of here.”
“Already?”
He downs the last of his drink. “I’m not going to flirt with a random woman tonight, Harper. Not even to make you happy.”
A flush creeps over my cheeks. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to?—”
“Don’t apologize,” he says, and that wide smile is back. “It’s just, I’m enjoying your company far too much to make small talk with a stranger.”
The compliment makes me blink a few times before I smile back at him. “You do?”
Something glitters in his eyes. “Oh yes,” he says. “Now tell me about this recent madness of yours.”