Chapter 4
Nathan
I really expected her to leave. But I’m glad she didn’t.
I’m only here tonight to talk to Finn Harvey. He’s in town for one more night before he whisks his new wife off to Greece for a two-week vacation. I can’t wait two weeks for an answer about the lot his grandpa owns. It’s a determining factor on too many moving pieces for Dad’s new project.
A simple call wasn’t enough. I’m asking an old friend for a favor after dropping the ball on communication for years.
At the bare minimum, I meant to buy him a nice wagyu steak, but he didn’t have time for dinner.
My only choice was to accept his invitation and catch him tonight before he leaves.
But once I got here, I felt like an ass, crashing his wife’s birthday party just to talk business.
I was stalling when I spotted Spencer by the bar.
It all started out as a dare I made with myself. Dad is only forcing new executive assistants on me because he thinks I’m lonely. Maybe if I go on a date or two, that’ll be enough to appease him and he’ll let me work in peace.
Spencer’s scouring the menu so hard you’d think she was choosing a permanent tattoo, not a drink that will disappear in ten minutes. “Nothing looks good?” I ask.
“The opposite,” she answers, not looking up. “Everything looks good and I only get one.”
She’s cute. And so accidentally sexy. But I won’t let my mind go there.
I refuse to think about her rich complexion, or the beautiful contrast of her thick, dark hair fixed in loose curls, falling all over her tan shoulders.
She’s far from a stick figure, and I will absolutely not allow myself to imagine how her soft curves would feel in my hands.
It’s been three years since Elise died. The first year, the topic of women was a nonissue.
They didn’t exist in my world. By the end of year two, I’ll admit I felt lonely from time to time.
On occasion I was tempted to bring a woman home purely for physical gratification, but the guilt always stopped me.
A little guilt because I knew I only wanted a woman to keep me company for one night.
And the deeper guilt because once I sleep with someone else, Elise won’t be my last. The moment I cross that line, everything changes.
Everything will fall apart. I’d just rather not have sex.
“I’m happy to buy you more than one.”
“Oh yeah, hotshot?” She finally looks up with her big, brown eyes and winks at me. “Think you can afford it?”
“I’ll move some money around.”
Her chuckle is light and airy. She seems to have relaxed some. Her nervous laughter before at the bar sounded a bit like a horse whinny. “That’s generous of you. But seriously, just one drink. I have to keep my wits about me tonight.”
“Why?”
“There are lots of extremely handsome men here with indecent intentions.” She waggles her eyebrows.
“Hey, I thought I was off trial.”
“Sorry.” She covers her eyes as she shakes her head. “That one slipped right out. I’m just teasing. This is nice, actually. I needed a break from my table. Plus we’re so close to the stage”— she lowers her voice—“we can almost see the sweat on the performers.”
“If you’re calling this awful karaoke a performance, then forget the drinks.” I grab the menu and slide it away from her. “You’re belligerent and you need to be cut off.”
“Ha! Be nice. They are trying. Some of them are…decent.”
Clearly she’s the kind of woman who likes to put a positive spin on things. “Are you going to get up there?”
“Oh yes.” The look on her face is dead serious. “I’m the final act at closing. How else do you think they’re going to clear out this party in a hurry?”
“Your singing is that bad?”
“Impressively abysmal.”
I can’t remember the last time I laughed this much. Definitely feels like a different lifetime. “Hey, can you scoot closer?”
Her smile fades as she folds her thumb into her fist for the umpteenth time. It’s a nervous tic I’m starting to notice. “How close?”
“As close as you’re comfortable with.”
She moves a few inches toward the center of the booth, but we’re still half an arm’s length apart. After a brief pause, she sucks in a deep breath and shimmies closer until my thigh is pressed against hers. It feels natural, so I lift my arm above her shoulders. “This okay?” I check.
When she nods, I rest my arm around her, feeling how hot her skin is. If she’s telling the truth and she hasn’t had a drop of alcohol tonight, then this heat must be because I’m making her nervous. I like that.
I lean over to whisper against her ear. “I have an idea.” She flinches when my lips touch her earlobe, then quickly steadies herself. “What if we order every drink off the cocktail menu but only take one sip of each? That way it’s still one drink, but you don’t miss out on anything.”
“That’s a pricey bar tab just to strike out.”
“Obviously I’m hoping you’re a lightweight and that one drink changes your mind. You know, indecent intentions and all.”
I’m so close I get to feel her laugh, not just hear it. Her cheeks bounce and her body jolts as she giggles. “I don’t think I’ve ever met a guy as sarcastic as I am.”
“Then we were destined.”
“Seems that way.”
She claps her hands together. “Okay. I’m in. Eight drinks. One sip each. Maybe two sips from the pineapple mojito because that sounds divine.”
“Done.” I raise my free hand in the air and it takes a split second for the waitress to appear. She became extra attentive earlier this evening when I gave her my black card to open my tab. “One of everything,” I say, tapping the menu.
“Beer too?”
I look at Spencer. She quickly makes a face before shaking her head.
“Only the cocktails. Thanks.”
“Coming right up.” The waitress retreats from the table and makes a beeline to the bar. She’s smart. If she plays her cards right and does a good job, the tips she gets from the VIP tables tonight could probably make a couple car payments.
Spencer’s phone lights up and she leans forward to glance at a message preview.
Satisfied with whatever she received, she relaxes back.
Instead of only tolerating my arm wrapped around her shoulders, she nuzzles into me.
“I’m not trying to be too forward, but shit, you smell really good.
” She breathes in deeply to make her point.
“Really?”
“I’m not sure if I’m turned on, or I want to ask you where you bought your cologne so I can pick up a bottle for myself.”
I ignore the pang of guilt twisting in my gut. She’s not coming back, Nate.
I’ve taken a few women out on dates in the past year or so. Nothing even came close to a spark, until now. This is a good, small step. I have no intention of asking Spencer for her number. I’ll never see her again, so maybe it’s safe to toe the line.
“I’m pretty sure you’re turned on,” I rasp into her ear.
Her hand slinks onto the edge of my knee.
Not high enough to be sleazy, but enough of a touch for me to translate it as an invitation.
I pull her long locks away from her shoulder and behind her back.
For the first time, I let my eyes fall to her chest, giving myself full permission to enjoy the deep crevice of her cleavage.
“Or, at least, I’m turned on,” I admit.
She rotates her head, her cheek rubbing against mine, before her eyes are set on my own. We’re so close our lips are touching. We’re not kissing. Just lips grazing, waiting for someone to make the first move.
“I love this song,” she murmurs, her breath tickling my mouth. “Do you know it?”
Of course I recognize the famous piano prelude. I’m already cringing for whoever is about to brutalize Alicia Keys’s “If I Ain’t Got You” on the karaoke machine. “I know it. I can play it too.”
“You play piano?”
“Mhm.” I don’t elaborate. I’ve lost interest in anything other than succumbing to the urge to kiss her. I lean into Spencer, wanting to feel the pressure of her soft lips on mine, but the very moment the singer starts, she pulls away and her attention snaps to the stage.
I understand why. The singer is breathtakingly good. “I guess the birthday girl actually hired a performer for tonight.”
“No, she didn’t,” Spencer chokes out. Staring at the stage, the color drains from her face.
Curious about what’s spooked her, I follow her eyes.
I’m shocked to see a little blonde-haired girl with the microphone.
Based on the voice alone, I was expecting a woman in her thirties, seasoned, experienced.
Her voice is rich and soulful. As the song progresses, she toggles effortlessly from the deep baritone to a melodic soprano with perfect pitch.
She’s singing like a talented professional.
“Holy shit, it’s a kid?”
Spencer doesn’t answer. Instead, her gaze is darting around the room. This little girl has commanded the attention of an entire club and silenced a mob of drunken partygoers. That’s how spectacular she sounds.
“They’re all recording,” Spencer gasps. “Everybody is recording.”
“Not a bad idea. I’ve never in my life heard a child sing like that before.” I pull out my phone. Pointing it to the stage, I press record.
“Stop.” Whack! She smacks my phone right out of my hand. It bounces off the table and I have to retrieve it off the floor. Straightening up in my seat, I toss my broken phone on the table, showing off the shattered screen.
“What is wrong with you?” It comes out harsher than I mean it to. I’m not upset about my phone. I’m so clumsy with it myself, I swear I have to get a new one every few weeks.
She runs her finger over the cracked ceramic. “Oh God. I broke it.” Tears well in her eyes.
“It’s new. I didn’t get a chance to put a case on it. It’s not a big deal. Are you okay?”
The song finally comes to a close, and amongst the loud clapping and cheering, a low rumble of “encore, encore” begins to fill the club.
“I’m sorry,” she says as she breaks free from our embrace. “It was a reflex. I wasn’t thinking. I’m so sorry.”
I try to grab her hand but she’s too quick. She scoots away out of my reach. I want to assure her I don’t give a shit about the phone. I just want to know what set her off. Did I move too fast or pressure her?
“Spencer? Wait. What’s?—”
“It was nice to meet you, Nate.” She doesn’t even look back as she flees.
Stunned, confused, and a little pissed, all I can do is watch her disappear into the crowd.
What the fuck just happened?
I know better than to follow her. I should’ve known better and kept tonight strictly business.
This is why I don’t date.