Chapter 4
FOUR
HOT GUY. Nice restaurant. Decent wine. The entrees had been good too. The servers wore waistcoats over their white shirts. Reasonable pricing. Suitable lighting. No music but nice atmosphere. Yeah, she’d visit again.
Hmm, didn’t say much for the date that she was mentally reviewing the restaurant rather than fantasizing about ripping his clothes off.
She’d visit again, but not with this guy.
What was wrong with her? It was the end of the week. Friday night! The perfect opportunity to kick back and let her wild side loose.
In theory.
“I thought about asking you out when you started at Brooker,” Nathaniel said from the other side of the table. “I’d been sort of semi seeing someone, guess I waited too long and then you were with Mason.”
Another topic of conversation she wanted to avoid. There were a lot of those. He’d talked a lot about his clients when they first sat down. That broke up the whole waiting for their food part. They hadn’t said much as they were eating.
The guy was making an effort, she had to try in return, right?
“I had no idea you noticed me.”
“Every guy does. You’re hard to miss, Elle.”
Because he smiled, she did the same.
Was that a compliment? Should she be flattered? If he was aiming for that, he missed. Her mood sucked. Where was her joie de vivre?
“Uh… thank you.”
“And Mason was an asshole, you know. Everyone knows that.”
Another topic she didn’t want to discuss. “Thank you.”
“Terra knows she’s hot. She knows she can get any guy.” Nice. Just what the ex-girlfriend wanted to hear. “The way she talks to guys… I don’t know how any guy could date a woman like that. Screw them, sure, but they’re still seeing each other, right?”
She scratched her neck, wishing for a fire alarm. “Maybe. I don’t keep track.”
“Last I heard they were. Peter asked her out for a drink and she said Mason was taking her to dinner.”
“Mm.”
Maybe she could get away with faking a heart attack.
“Shit,” he said. “Sorry, you probably don’t want to talk about that.”
“No, not particularly.”
Silence fell. What to talk about? Work? They’d kind of done that and she didn’t want to talk about Cam.
Falling into stride with Cam had been easy. Maybe too easy. He trusted her to take calls. Make decisions. Control just about anything. He hadn’t corrected or chastised her once. She let herself into his house each day, made her coffee, and got to work in his living room while he did his thing.
At lunchtime, he worked out in the downstairs gym. When he was done and in the shower, she’d make him a sandwich and drink and leave them on the stairs. His office led from that gym, she supposed, he’d never invited her in and the doors were always closed.
Thinking about another man probably wasn’t good date etiquette.
Damnit. The date. Yes. Engaged. This was supposed to be fun. The dates she’d had earlier in the week were busts. Always a bust. This week. Last week. Bust. Bust. Bust.
Nathaniel was her last scheduled swing. Already it was obvious this wasn’t a homerun. Where else might she find eligible men? God, what was the thing about trying too hard? She was broken. Damaged. What if this was the rest of her life?
“Do your family live close by?” Nathaniel asked.
“I’m not close to my family,” she said. “Are you close to yours?”
“I’ve got a brother.”
“That’s nice…”
The couple at the next table were sitting close, whispering, holding hands, sharing kisses. Okay, it was sweet, but she shouldn’t be jealous. There were different kinds of intimacy. Being wild didn’t usually involve intimacy like that. She’d had intimacy… hadn’t she?
“You want to go somewhere else and get a drink?” Nathaniel asked, seemingly lost for further conversation.
“Yes,” she said, grabbing the lifeline.
More alcohol, lower lighting, yeah, that was better for wild. Wild wasn’t a classy restaurant and a colleague that didn’t stir her hormones. It was a learning curve. She’d get to wild… right?
***
TWO HOURS AND most of a bottle of wine later, she still hadn’t found wild.
“There should be plenty of cabs around,” she said as they walked out of the bar.
Conversation was excruciating and she was sick of pushing away his wandering hands. Nathaniel was cute and that was where the pro column ended.
When he put his arm around her to pull her close, she tensed up.
“Our night doesn’t have to end here.”
“It does,” she said, unhooking his arm to step out of the embrace. “It really does.”
“Who cares if we’re not so good at the talking? We could be good at other stuff.”
And wouldn’t that make her the luckiest girl alive?
Ugh.
How many drinks ahead was he? Her focus had been on the wine.
He’d drunk both it and bourbon. They’d talked about the alcohol, a lot.
Oh, and their plans for the weekend. Their separate plans.
She had none and knew far more of his than was necessary, anything to get words in the air and break up the awkward silences.
“I don’t want to try other stuff.”
Yes, she wanted excitement. That didn’t mean she should fall into bed with just anyone. It had to feel fun. It had to be natural. Exhilarating. Thrilling.
Nathaniel might be buzzed, but she hadn’t got the impression he found her irresistible either. If things had worked out, she wouldn’t mind facing him at the office. Now knowing he didn’t turn her on and the only reason she’d go to bed with him was to be polite, it didn’t seem like the best idea.
They worked together; it wasn’t like she could avoid or ghost him. Wild would come. It would. When it was ready. It was just taking her a minute to find her stride.
She stepped off the curb seeking a cab.
Nathaniel was right there beside her. “You could come back to my place,” he said. “There’s wine there.”
“No, thank you.”
“I don’t mind seeing your place,” he said. “I want to see it. I’d love to know where you live.”
Which was an excellent reason not to invite him.
“It’s late,” she said. A cab slowed. “I just want to go to bed.” When she glanced up, the glitter in his eye revolted her. That so wasn’t what she was getting at. “I’ll see you in the office next week.”
“It’s early.” His hand slithered down her back. “Let’s have some fun. Take me back to your place.”
“No,” she said, opening the cab door when it stopped. “I’ll see you next week.”
He grabbed the top of the door before she could get in. “I had a good time.” That dopey smile suggested he didn’t remember their car crash of a night. Maybe he thought that statement would be enough to sway her into amnesia too. “Do I get to kiss you goodnight?”
Maybe he was an amazing kisser. Was that the problem? She just hadn’t given him a chance to… As he descended, her gut made the choice.
“No,” she said. “Good night.”
Getting into the car, she closed the door and gave the driver her address. Sex. Her wild phase was supposed to include sexual freedom. She wasn’t feeling it yet, wasn’t experiencing it, but she would. In time.