Chapter 8
EIGHT
Nathan and I exchanged phone numbers before I left his house. In case of emergencies, which I hoped would not be a thing. To my surprise, he started texting me that night. It threw me.
Nathan: What are you doing?
Bella: What are you doing?
Nathan: Getting to know you. It’s important in case I make a mistake and say your favorite color is mustard when it’s really teal in front of Preston.
That made me laugh.
Bella: Preston couldn’t tell you my favorite color. His mother used to force me to go shopping with her, and everything in my closet was black, white, and gray by the end.
Dots appeared on his screen then disappeared. When they reappeared a few seconds later, I was confused.
Nathan: That’s hard for me to imagine. You are always in something colorful.
Bella: It was just another way he didn’t know me.
Nathan: I still think we should exchange information, just to be safe.
I sighed. He wasn’t going to let it go. In a weird way, I appreciated his attention to detail.
Bella: Fine. My favorite color is purple. Not a royal purple though. More like a grayish purple.
Nathan: Mine is blue.
Bella: I know. You always wear some variation of blue in your shirts.
Nathan: Not always.
Bella: I have yet to see you wear anything but blue.
Nathan: Challenge accepted.
Bella: That wasn’t a challenge.
Nathan: It was in my head.
He was exasperating. Adorable—in a remote sort of way because I refused to let myself get too close to him, despite the favor he was doing for me—but exasperating all the same.
Bella: What’s your favorite food?
Nathan: I eat all things.
Bella: I mean, if you had to choose a theme for a restaurant—seafood, southern comfort, Mexican, etc.—which one would you pick?
Nathan: Ah, the most important of all questions.
Bella: How is that the most important of all questions?
Nathan: Because nothing is more important than food. My go-to choice is always a steakhouse. I love steak, mashed potatoes and gravy, and if I can get mushrooms and onions on the steak, I’m in heaven.
Bella: That is a good choice.
Nathan: What’s yours?
In that moment, it struck me how properly written all of our questions and answers were in this thread.
There was no shorthand or even emojis. Of course, we were authors, I rationalized a second later.
We were used to typing things out, and fast. We had no need for shorthand. It just wasn’t part of our world.
Bella: I’m a big fan of seafood. Stuffed lobster is my favorite.
Nathan: That’s a Northeast thing. You’re not going to get a lot of stuffed lobster here. Stuffed crab, yes. Stuffed lobster, no.
Bella: It’s one of the things I miss most about Salem. There’s stuffed lobster on every corner. Finz is my favorite. They have the best stuffed lobster, and their pickled martini is amazing.
Nathan: Pickled martini? What blasphemy is that?
Bella: No, it’s amazing. I can’t tell you how amazing it is. It’s also impossible to describe.
Nathan: I’ll have to take your word for it.
I grinned at the phone, waiting. Somehow I knew he wasn’t done. As it turned out, he wasn’t even close.
Nathan: What’s your favorite genre?
Bella: For reading or writing?
Nathan: For everything. We’re talking reading, writing, movies, television. I want to know the whole enchilada.
Bella: Do you like Mexican food? That’s my second favorite.
Nathan: Yes, but don’t distract me. I’m being serious.
Bella: Fine. I like reading a little bit of everything. Horror. Rom-coms. Mysteries. Paranormal mysteries are weirdly my favorite, but only if they’re really snarky.
Nathan: Like witches who live in Michigan and have a great-aunt who hexes people to smell like bacon when she’s in a bad mood?
Bella: You’ve read those? I am weirdly impressed.
Nathan: I read everything too. What do you watch?
Bella: I am all over the place there too. I love stuff like Stranger Things and Welcome to Derry.
Nathan: Horror fan?
Bella: I love horror movies. Even the old ones from before I was born. I’ve seen The Shining about a million times.
Nathan: So you’re a King fan?
Somehow I knew where this conversation was going.
Bella: I love a lot of King stuff. I tend to gravitate toward his older stuff though. The Shining. It. Pet Sematary. Carrie. Salem’s Lot.
Nathan: It’s more visceral for some reason. I get it. Did you see that recent Salem’s Lot movie?
Bella: It was terrible. I’m in desperate need of a good vampire movie. I loved Sinners, but that was actually more commentary than horror. Interview With a Vampire is great on AMC, but it takes forever between seasons.
Nathan: That show is way better than I was expecting. The Mayfair Witches, unfortunately, is nowhere near as good.
Bella: I agree.
The conversation went on for hours. I thought that would be it. We got through all the surface questions and definitely knew enough about each other to fool Preston. But the next day, the texts started in the morning and continued until bedtime. Then the day after that, more of the same.
Through text messages, I got to know who Nathan was, for the most part.
He loved all things horror—even bad horror movies—and hated nonfiction.
We had that in common. His biggest pet peeve was self-help books.
He said he couldn’t help feeling that the people hawking their systems were taking advantage of readers who were just in search of peace. I was right there with him.
Of course, I didn’t mention that my mother bought self-help books like they were going out of style. It was too embarrassing. I’d brought it up to my mother more than once, but she didn’t care. She liked what she liked. She’d always been that way.
He talked about wanting to take a cooking class.
I talked about how I wished I didn’t like Crocs. They looked ridiculous but were really comfortable.
He mentioned how he still had his library card from when he was a kid and would never get rid of it.
I told him a story about following the guy who’d haunted Salem’s streets in October—he was dressed as Michael Myers—and calling the police chief because I was convinced he was stalking somebody to kill.
Turns out, his real name was Stan, and he was a retired investment banker.
He just liked dressing up as Michael Myers.
By the time the second bar event rolled around, I was more comfortable with Nathan—at least via text—than I had been with anybody since my childhood. So when we met at the Fitzroy, a popular pub in downtown Savannah, for an early dinner and chat with the others, I was feeling much more relaxed.
“This place is cool,” I said as I sat between Nathan and Bree. I was really digging the atmosphere. “I hadn't been here yet.”
“Have you been anyplace other than where we meet you?” Bree asked pointedly. She’d been on a tirade the last week about me not using my prime placement in the downtown area to check out bars she’d never been to. Apparently, she trusted my opinion.
“I go to coffee shops,” I replied defensively.
She rolled her eyes. “Coffee shops are not cocktail bars.”
“Really?” I replied dryly. “You should run some marketing strategies for all the coffee shops in the area. I’m sure they’d love witty insights like that.”
Bree snorted. She liked when I got snarky. I’d been a snarky teenager. I’d even been snarky in college. Somewhere along the way, though, I’d lost that too. I was happy to be getting it back. Heck, I was happy to be getting all of it back.
“The event is on the rooftop patio,” Brody offered. “I’m ready for a drink and food before we get to it.”
“He’s been feeling anxious this week,” Bree explained. “With the retreat breathing down our necks, he’s realized that he’s not going to have control over what comes next, and he’s not taking it well.”
“Thank you, baby,” Brody drawled, glaring at her. “I appreciate you explaining how I’m feeling to everybody.”
She turned sheepish. “Sorry. That was an overstep.”
“No.” Brody turned instantly contrite. “It’s fine. I am feeling anxious. I don’t like not knowing how all of this is going to play out.”
“We’ll get to that,” Nathan said before inclining his head toward the incoming server. “Let’s order first.”
Nobody argued.
Bree went first. “I’ll have the Bees in the Trap,” she started. “That’s a really weird name for a drink, by the way.”
The server looked bored, as if she’d heard that all the time.
“I’ll also have the Fitzroy Burger, medium, please.”
The server moved her attention to Hayley.
“I’ll have the Lemon Espresso Martini and the Beeler’s Bone-in Pork Chop.” Hayley was not one to waste time.
I was up next and not prepared. “Um… I’ll have the Cucumber Blossom,” I said quickly.
“Ah, if only it was a pickle martini,” Nathan teased in a warm voice right next to my ear that sent strange jolts through my body.
I had to force myself to focus. “I’ll have the roasted chicken for my entrée.”
Nathan slung an easy arm over the back of my chair. It wasn’t a proprietary move. He was just being friendly. The warmth I felt at my back immediately calmed me some. It was weird.
“I’ll have the Gentlemen to drink and the Georgia Shrimp as an appetizer,” he said. “For my entrée, I’ll have the twelve-ounce Prime New York Strip Steak, rare.”
The server lingered longer with him, smiling flirtingly, before turning her attention to Brody. Even though Brody was an attractive man, he very obviously only had eyes for Bree, so she wasn’t nearly as happy to focus on him. “And you, sir?” she asked blandly.
“Um…” Brody jerked his gaze from Bree and focused on the menu. “I will have the Barrel Aged Black Manhattan to drink and the Fitzroy Burger for my entrée. Medium, please.”
“You got it.” The server gathered the menus, sent Nathan one more flirty look, then sauntered off.
I expected to find Nathan watching her. He wasn’t, though. He was focused on me. “You haven’t seen Preston Douche Canoe III in the past few days, have you?”