Chapter 9
I can be nice.
I’m a good person and a professional, and I can be nice even if it kills me.
After all, Nate gifted me Thailand.
That’s worth some extra effort on my part.
I carefully place a cheerful smile on my mouth and enter his office. “Good morning, Nate!” There’s a sing-song to my words that I’m mildly embarrassed about.
Immediately, he’s skeptical. “Who are you, and what did you do with Carly?”
“Ready to work?” I pull a chair over to his desk, laying out my laptop and files.
“What’s with you today?” He’s behind me with a golf club, hitting balls into his portable indoor putting green.
“What do you mean?” Another big smile.
“You’re acting strange.”
“No, I’m not.”
“I don’t like whatever this is.” He waves his hand in front of my deranged grin. “If you keep this up, everyone will think you have an office crush on me, and nobody wants that. Grade-A stalkers aren’t my thing.”
Even I’m surprised by how fast my smile turns into a scowl. “Has anyone ever told you that you have a very slappable face?”
A laugh spits out. “There she is. I was starting to get worried.”
I suck in a lungful of air, mad at myself that I couldn’t even make it thirty seconds without saying something that could get me removed from my dream trip, but I can’t help it. Nate brings out the worst in me like a spicy burrito you eat at ten p.m.
Flustered, I scoot my chair in. “Let’s just work, or are you currently competing in The Masters?” My eyes shift to his golf club.
“Just practicing for fun.” He leans his club against the wall and walks to his desk with a smile meant to tease. “You’ve heard of fun before, right?”
“Yes, I know what fun is.” He’s baiting me, but I’ve regrouped with a new sense of patience. “Since Pureskin dropped the ball on side tours, I put together a tentative itinerary with side tour options that could be fun .” I open the folder in front of me and hand him a copy of my plan.
The best part of my job is examining a brand-new location and creating a trip full of culture, adventure, and relaxation. It’s what I love.
“I’m terrified of your definition of fun.” He takes the paper and glances over my suggestions, seemingly unimpressed. “It’s a good start, but I’ll take charge from here.”
“I spent all week on this. If you just take a second, you’ll see how well-thought-out it is.” I feel my frustration flare. “I’ve already done the work. You can focus on the welcome dinner and farewell party.”
“No, I want final say on the side tours and entertainment. The last thing we want is for you to pick something boring, like basket weaving.”
“Do you see basket weaving on that list?” I bite back.
“No, but I wouldn’t put it past you to sneak it in. You’re the most straitlaced, unadventurous person I know.”
Nate really is just like Isaac.
His words are proof that he knows nothing about me. I open my mouth to tout some of the adventurous things I’ve done over the years, like rappelling down the Victoria Waterfall in Costa Rica, kayaking through the Misty Fjords in Alaska, or the rope swing in Moab, but I stop myself before any of that comes out. I’m not good at showing people all the different sides of me, especially work people. A place of employment is not where you let your hair down. It’s where you button everything up to be a professional. Besides, I don’t want Nate to know me. We’re not friends.
“Fine. Have it your way.” This is me on my best behavior, playing nice. “I’ll be in charge of the welcome dinner and farewell party.”
“I’ll also oversee those with you. I want to make sure things go smoothly.”
“Are you really going to micromanage everything I do?”
“Pureskin is an important client we want to impress.”
Something’s off with Nate and this trip. He’s never this hands-on. Plus, Lyle referred to Pureskin as Nate’s baby.
I lean back, suddenly interested in the behind-the-scenes. “How did you get this account anyway?”
“I have a contact over there.” His gaze drops, and he begins shuffling papers around his desk with no real purpose.
“Now you’re being weird.”
“I’m never weird.” His forced smile does little to cover up the bigger anxiety.
“Is it a woman?” As the question leaves my lips, jealousy pricks inside. It’s stupid, so I’ll never mention it again.
“A woman?” he sneers as if the suggestion is laughable.
“I nailed it on the head, didn’t I? You pimped yourself out to land this commission.”
Nate frowns.
I got him, and it feels so good.
“You’re right. It is because of a woman.” His head hangs in shame, adding to my glee. “The woman who was in charge of the event department…the one diagnosed with cancer…she’s my mom.”
“Oh, shoot. Nate.” I shake my head, trying to find the words to get my foot out of my mouth. “That was insensitive of me, and I feel awful. I’m so sorry! Is there anything you need or anything I can do for your family?”
He raises his hand to his head and presses his thumb and index fingers over his eyes to stop the tears.
Tears, for crying out loud!
I’m such an idiot. I let my dislike of Nate override human decency.
You’re better than this, Carly.
“Nate, I really am sorry. I feel so stupid.”
“You should feel stupid.” His head pops up, showing off another teasing smile.
It takes a second to realize he’s razzing me.
“What kind of person lies about cancer?” I chuck a pad of sticky notes at him.
“Careful”—he smirks—“or you’ll get altitude sickness from your moral high horse.”
“Moral high horse? You’re the one joking about cancer.”
He picks up the sticky notes and throws them back in my direction. “You’re the one who suggested I pimped out my body to get a client.”
“Don’t act like you’re offended. It’s not a good look on you.”
“Don’t act like you care. It’s not a good look on you.”
“I don’t care.” I lift my chin to a snooty angle. “I just want to go to Thailand, even if I have to go with you.” I type a few things on my computer as a sign that we’re only speaking to each other when absolutely necessary.
After a few seconds of silence, Nate says, “It’s my dad.”
“Hmm?” I keep typing, proving my disinterest.
“My dad owns Pureskin. That’s how we got the job so last minute.”
I can’t pretend I’m not interested any longer.
My jaw drops. “Your dad owns Pureskin?”
“Yes.”
“So you’re, like, a millionaire?”
“No.” There’s annoyance on his breath. “My dad is, but I’m not.”
“Oh, please! That’s what every rich kid says, expecting us to believe that all that money isn’t eventually going to trickle down to them.”
“It probably won’t, and I don’t even want his money if it does.”
“Yeah, right.”
“I’m serious.”
“You’re a nepo baby.” I laugh. “It all makes sense now. That’s who’s funding your extended childhood.”
“You’re just jealous because my lifestyle is infinitely more exciting than yours.”
“Sorry, I don’t put stock into what guys with a Peter Pan complex think.”
“Maybe I only act like a child around you. You’re adulting hard enough for everyone.”
“Unlike you, who’s refusing to be an adult. As the founder of a global company, I’m sure your dad is real proud of your laziness.”
Something different crosses over Nate’s face, like I hit a nerve. “I hardly speak to my dad,” he scoffs, masking whatever emotion I just saw. “He’s a little too intense for me—kind of like you, actually. You two would get along great. You could make to-do lists and pretend like you’re better than everyone because of how responsible you are.”
I definitely struck a nerve.
This is the first time in the eight and a half months I’ve worked with Nate that there’s been a real bite to his jabs. Usually, his tone is a playful tease.
Remorse spills over me, so I try to move the conversation along.
“If your dad is going to love me, maybe he’ll hire us to run all of his events from here on out.”
“My dad won’t even be there. The executive incentive trip is beneath him. And even if he were in attendance, he’d never hire Voyager Travel because I work here. He doesn’t trust me with that kind of responsibility.” There’s a noticeable bitterness to his words. “This is a one-time job. He’s already looking for someone new to be his in-house event coordinator.”
“If he won’t consider us for future trips, why is it so important to you that we impress him?”
“It just is.” He scoots into his desk, fiddling with his computer mouse, and I can tell that’s all the information I’m going to get on this topic.
What do I do with that information anyway? Nate’s strained relationship with his dad is the first sign of weakness I’ve seen from him since I started working here. It humanizes him more than I want. Just like how I don’t want Nate to know me, I don’t want to know him. It complicates my straightforward dislike, and I use that dislike as a shield to protect myself.
“Where are we on company gifts?” he asks, like he’s finally interested in getting some work done.
“They already ordered the swag. We just need to choose daily pillow gifts.” I grab a piece of paper from the event folder and read the written notes on it. “We can pick up the finished swag and finalize the pillow gifts at the end of next week.”
“Except, we’re not calling them pillow gifts because that sounds cheesy. From now on, they’re room drops .”
The barbed glare I point at him shows my irritation. “Why did you choose me as your event coordinator if you’re going to nitpick and micromanage everything I say and do?”
“Because you’re the best.” His words aren’t accompanied by any emotion or a charming smile. They’re just words, making it hard to believe he really means them, but I’d be lying if I said his compliment didn’t thrill me a little.
Actually, it thrills me so much that it scares me, so I throw his words back at him. “Yeah, I’m the best because I always save the day for you.” I flick my chin up. “Just promise me, with this trip, I won’t have to clean up all your messes.”
“You love cleaning up my messes.” He leans back in his chair, a smug expression on his face. “It gives you a sense of pride and accomplishment.”
The fact that Nate has read me like an open book is a little unsettling.
“And is this where you tell me that having self-pride and a sense of accomplishment are off-putting traits?”
“In a work environment, no.”
My back straightens. “So, outside of work, they are?”
“That’s not what I said.”
“That’s what you implied.”
“Why do you always try to pick a fight with me?”
“Why do you always say insulting things?”
“Maybe you’re too sensitive.”
“Maybe you’re insufferable.”
Amusement gleams behind his eyes. “Maybe I am.”
“Glad we agree on something.” I bite back my smile, surprised he could draw one out from me.
His eyes become a pool of brown softness. “I meant what I said. You are the best. That’s why I chose you to work on this account with me.”
A piece from the wall guarding my heart crumbles a bit.
It’s terrifying.
Without hesitation, I begin gathering up my stuff. “I think that’s good enough for now. You get started on the side tours, and I’ll start on the opening and closing events.”
Nate settles into his chair with a relaxed casualness I only dream about pulling off. There’s no denying that he makes idleness look attractive. “No need to leave. Things were just getting good between us.”
That’s exactly why I need to leave.
A strained laugh puffs over my lips. “I’ve had enough of you for one day.”
“Oh, Carly.” His charming expression puts me on edge even more. “Always so grumpy with me.”
I stand, holding my laptop against my chest. My head tilts as I draw up a tight smile. I’m doing everything in my power to convince myself his allure doesn’t work on me. “This isn’t grumpiness. It’s an aversion. To you. ”
“Speaking of grumpiness. I got this for you.” He dives forward, opens the top drawer of his desk, grabs whatever’s inside, and tosses it to me.
I’m caught off guard by the small pill bottle coming at me, but I still manage to catch it. I turn it over in my hands, reading the label.
Midol.
My annoyed glare flips to him and his innocent smile.
Just more confirmation that he’s not anyone I could ever like, and his face is, indeed, very slappable.