Chapter Eighteen
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
One would think that, for a single mom, kid-free weekends meant sleeping in, relaxing, and enjoying the quiet. Maybe reading a book. Taking in a yoga class.
Ha. Not so much. Or, at least, not for Natalie. She’d gotten up early Saturday to do laundry, drop off dry cleaning, and pick up things at the craft store because Camryn had a science project to do for class when she got home Sunday night. Natalie had mentioned it to Sean, thinking he might want to do the project with his daughter, but he claimed he wouldn’t have the time. Whatever. She would handle it, just like she’d always handled it.
She thought about pushing grocery shopping til tomorrow, but then realized that Sunday was for laundry and cleaning the house, so she went ahead and did it, grumbling the whole time. After she put the groceries away she sighed in contentment. At least it was done now.
Then she realized her toenails were looking a little raggedy because, honestly, when did she have the time? And maybe it was an indulgence but—no, it wasn’t. It was an absolute necessity. So she ended up getting both a pedicure and a manicure because, dammit, she deserved it.
She also stopped at her favorite coffee shop for an iced caramel macchiato, which made her supremely happy. Sean had always called her frivolous for spending unnecessary money on what he’d called “stupid frilly coffee drinks.”
Sean could suck it.
She drove home and grabbed her coffee, walked inside her quiet, empty house. Correction. Not empty, because she was happily greeted by Grizelda, who apparently had chewed up one of her favorite white sandals and now presented it to her as a gift.
She picked up the shoe and sat on the sofa. The dog happily wagged her tail.
“Oh, Grizzie, what did you do?”
Tail wags and happy face. Natalie couldn’t help but smile.
“Still a bit of a puppy, aren’t you? Well, that’ll teach me to leave my shoes out. And you obviously need more toys. And exercise.” She swept her fingers through Grizelda’s fur, rewarded with several dog licks to her hand. Then the pup circled and lay on top of her feet.
Okay, first, some exercise for Griz. She pushed herself out of the chair and grabbed the leash, rewarded with Grizelda’s happy whines and fast-swishing tail.
They did a mile before the pup’s tongue started hanging out the side of her mouth. It was ultrahumid today, which meant rain was probably on the way, so Natalie walked them home. Grizelda went straight for her water bowl and downed most of the water. At least the water didn’t slosh over the sides onto the kitchen floor. Just a few drips from Grizelda’s mouth, which was fine.
A year ago she would have freaked.
She freaked a lot less about the small stuff these days. She swiped up the water drops with a paper towel, then grabbed her iced coffee, plopped down in her chair, and took a sip.
Grizelda had curled up on one of the air-conditioning vents and was fast asleep with her stuffed bear. Natalie made a mental note to go to the pet store and get her more toys. After finishing her coffee, she set the cup on the table and laid her head back, letting her eyes close.
Perfect. At least for the twenty minutes her eyes were closed. But over the years she’d become a champion of the twenty-minute nap. She got up, stretched, and felt utterly refreshed, ready to tackle the rest of the day.
Since Eugene was coming over tonight, she had waited to shower. Now she did, shampooing and scrubbing and shaving and lotioning, followed by blow-drying and makeup-ing until she glowed. She stared at herself in the full-length mirror, giving her naked body a critical examination.
She was drawing ever closer to her thirty-fifth birthday. Still, she kept her body in shape—not by constant exercise, because no single mom had time for that. But she did take an occasional yoga class and then there was all the nonstop running after kids and their activities. Plus now she had a job that kept her active, too. And a very adorable dog who very much enjoyed walks.
But her breasts didn’t droop—not that much anyway. And her ass was still where it was supposed to be. She’d say she was still looking good.
More than good, actually. She looked amazing.
Now that she felt fantastic, she slipped on underwear and went into her closet and pulled out a sundress. It was a pretty navy with splotches of white flowers, comfortable, soft as hell, and had little bitty straps. It also showed off her legs.
After all, she had a date tonight. She looked at her watch, realizing he was due to show up in a few minutes, so she went into the living room, lit the candle, and turned on some soft music to help set the mood.
Not that she was planning a seduction or anything. Then again, maybe she was. Eugene was infinitely seduceable.
She took a seat and scanned her social media accounts, laughing at some of the memes, forwarding a few to her sister. She’d taken a very cute pic of the kids with Grizelda the other day so she posted it to her account, then checked the time.
Okay, Eugene was only ten minutes late. No big deal. She resumed scrolling, diving into a lengthy story that kept her occupied until she checked the time again.
Now he was thirty minutes late. Okay, she was worried. She texted him.
Are you okay? We said six thirty, right?
Taking a deep breath, she got up and went outside with Grizelda, who did her business and fruitlessly chased some birds. She checked her phone.
No reply.
Damn. She dialed his number, but after a few rings it went to his voicemail.
Maybe he’d gotten involved in something, and he was just in the shower. Still, he would have called or texted her to say he was going to be late.
Wouldn’t he? Eugene didn’t strike her as the kind of guy to just let her sit and stew in worry.
Would he?
Then again, how well did she actually know him?
Deciding to calm herself, she sent another text: Hey, we had a date tonight. Call me when you get this text so I know you’re okay.
She’d leave it at that, refusing to worry about him.
Except that she was worried about him. But she’d hold off doing anything about it for a while longer.
She made herself a snack that she didn’t even want to eat, ending up picking at some raspberries while wandering the house, periodically looking out the front window to see if he’d pull up in the driveway. In the meantime, dark clouds gathered, mirroring her mood.
Worry mixed with anger as one hour became two. She tried calling him again, and again his phone went to voicemail. Her stomach knotted, and she didn’t know whether to be concerned or pissed off.
Finally she called Hazel.
“Hey, Nat,” Hazel said. “What’s up?”
“So I had a date with Eugene tonight,” she started, letting it all spill out in what felt like was one breath. “He was supposed to come over at six thirty and he didn’t show. I tried texting and calling and he’s not responding and now I’m worried. Does Linc know where he might be?”
“Oh, honey, I don’t know. Let me ask.”
She waited, hearing the conversation between Hazel and Linc. Finally, Linc got on the phone.
“Natalie.”
“Hi, Linc.”
“Tell me what happened.”
She told him exactly what she’d told Hazel.
“That’s not like Eugene. He wouldn’t leave you hanging like that. Let me try and get in touch with him and I’ll call you back, okay?”
“Okay. Thanks, Linc.”
Linc would find his brother. He had to. And when he did, Eugene would be fine.
And then she could yell at him for scaring the hell out of her.
· · ·
“It’s still not right, dammit.”
Eugene and a few members of his team had run into a critical error, one they’d been working on since yesterday. He’d been at the office for over twenty-four hours, not even going home last night. He hadn’t slept, and the only food he’d had was a couple of donuts and a half a sandwich. He was hungry, cranky, desperately needed a shower, and he was totally pissed off about the glitch that had ground their progress to a halt.
“It’s like we get just so far and the program hits a wall.” Heath, one of his programmers, dragged his fingers through his hair, looking as haggard as Eugene felt.
“There has to be an obvious glitch that we’re not seeing.”
“Maybe we need to wait for the rest of the team to come in on Monday. Fresh eyes and all.”
Eugene shook his head. “There’s no reason we can’t fix this.”
“You need some sleep. And a shower.”
“Yeah, so do you. We’ll stink up the place together until we figure this out.”
They dove in until one of the security guards came in. “Sorry to bother you, but there’s some guy at the gate claiming to be your brother.”
Eugene frowned. “My brother?”
“Yeah. Says his name is Linc and says you’re not picking up your phone and he wants to know if you’re here or if you’re dead.”
Shit. “That sounds like my brother.” He looked at the security stream and sure enough, it was Linc. “You can let him in, Roger, thanks.”
Eugene turned to Heath. “I’ll just be a minute.”
“Take your time. I’m ordering some pizzas.”
“Okay.”
Eugene walked out of the design room where Linc would be forbidden from entering because of all the proprietary stuff in there. Roger escorted Linc to the lounge, where he greeted Eugene with a wrinkled nose.
“You look like shit,” Linc said. “Smell like it, too.”
“Yeah, we had a critical failure in programming, so I’ve been here since yesterday.”
“You might try letting some people know that. Natalie was frantic. You two had a date tonight?”
“Oh no.” He pulled out his phone and saw several text messages, multiple missed calls and voicemails. “I lost track of time. I totally forgot.”
“She’ll be thrilled to hear that. Anyway, glad you’re not dead. Go home and take a shower. And call Natalie, okay?”
“I’ll do that right now. Hey. Thanks, Linc.”
Linc shrugged his shoulder. “It’s what brothers do. I’m relieved you’re not lying on the side of the road somewhere. I’d hug you but you smell.”
Eugene laughed and signaled to Roger, who waited outside the door, to escort Linc out.
He punched in Natalie’s number. She answered right away.
“Eugene?”
“Yeah. Natalie, I—”
“Are you okay?”
“I am. I’m so sorry. I got stuck at work. We had a major glitch with the ride, and I’ve been here with some of the team since yesterday. I just lost all track of time and I totally forgot—”
“You forgot. You couldn’t just send a text to tell me you had to work and couldn’t make it?”
“Like I said, I got involved.”
“Uh-huh. Well, I’m happy to hear you weren’t in an accident or suddenly ill or any of the other hundreds of things I imagined had happened that would have prevented you from answering my texts or picking up your phone when I called.”
“Natalie, I—”
“You should get back to work. Goodnight, Eugene.”
She clicked off, and the sound was like cymbals clanging in his ears.
Fuck. He’d screwed things up so badly. So not only was his work totally shit, so was his love life.
Great. Just fucking great.