CHAPTER SIX #2
I reached for a napkin at the same time Nathan did, our fingers brushing over the soft linen. The touch was barely anything, but it sent a spark up my arm, quick and unexpected.
Neither of us moved. His hand, larger and warmer than I expected, hovered over mine for half a second too long, his fingertips barely touching my skin. In the dim glow of his office lamp, I could see the way his jaw tightened, the way his blue eyes flicked up to mine, just for a moment.
A slow, steady tension coiled between us, quiet but impossible to ignore. Up close, I noticed the faint stubble along his jaw, the way a single strand of his perfectly styled hair had fallen out of place.
I should say something. Move. Do anything other than just sit there, staring at him like an idiot.
Thankfully, he was the one to shift first, pulling back just enough to give me the napkin, but not before murmuring, “Go ahead.” His voice was low, like he knew exactly what that small moment had done to me.
This wasn’t normal. This wasn’t him.
Something had changed, and I didn’t know if I trusted it.
“How’s the Monarch deal going?” I asked, hoping work would bring things back into focus. Monarch was one of the last independent powerhouses in the industry. They were small, selective, and fiercely protective of its artists.
And Nathan was in the middle of trying to acquire it for Edge Records.
Nathan sighed. “Truthfully? Not great. Their founder doesn’t trust me. He thinks I’ll corporatize their label. Strip it of everything that makes it special.”
“Do you want to?”
He looked surprised by the question. “No. But I think I’ve forgotten how to show people that. Somewhere along the way, I stopped being the guy who fell in love with music.”
I tilted my head, considering him. “What made you fall in love with it in the first place?”
Nathan’s expression turned wistful. “My mom used to sing around the house. Badly,” he added, smiling slightly. “But always. While cooking. Driving. Even when folding laundry. Music was a joy for her. I guess I wanted to bring that same joy to others.”
I froze. He’d never mentioned his mom in all the years we’d worked together.
“I think you still care,” I said softly. “Even if you’ve buried it.”
Nathan’s gaze met mine, steady but shadowed with doubt. “Maybe you’re right. The bigger the company gets, the more it feels like I’m just chasing numbers, not the music. What if I can’t convince them I’m still that guy? What if I’m not?”
The vulnerability in his voice hit me harder than I expected.
“Monarch wouldn’t even be talking to you if they didn’t see something in you.
They know your reputation. You’re the man who gives unknown artists a platform and turns them into legends.
You are that guy. You always have been and you always will be. ”
Nathan studied me, his expression softening, though uncertainty lingered in his eyes. “You make it sound simple.”
“It is,” I insisted. “Because it’s the truth. You didn’t get to where you are by accident, Mr. Edge. You care. And if you show them even a fraction of that, they’ll trust you.”
The room felt impossibly quiet after that. Nathan’s gaze didn’t waver, and for a moment, I thought he might say something, but he just nodded, his lips curving into a faint smile. “Thank you.”
“Anytime,” I replied, feeling a strange warmth in my chest.
Nathan picked up a fry, his tone shifting back to its usual controlled edge. “Now, eat. If you faint from hunger, I’m not dealing with the paperwork.”
I rolled my eyes but couldn’t suppress a small laugh. “Noted, Mr. Edge.”
“Do I have to worry about your boyfriend showing up because I’m keeping you late?” Nathan questioned, taking me by surprise.
I glanced down at the pool of ketchup I had created in the corner of my takeout box, the fries I love suddenly losing all its appeal.
“No.” I swallowed down the lump in my throat. “We’re not together anymore.”
“Oh.” The lone word slipped from his mouth, breathlessly, maybe even a little stunned.
I waited for him to press further on the subject, but to my surprise he simply picked up his cheeseburger and took a bite.
“So,” he spoke up once he finished swallowing, “If you weren’t here right now, what would you be doing? ”
The question caught me off guard.
I blinked. “What?”
“If I hadn’t kept you,” he clarified. “Where would you be?”
I hesitated, then shrugged one shoulder. “At home,” I said. “Curled up in bed. Probably creating new choreography or watching a rom-com I’ve already seen at least five times.”
His lips twitched slightly. “Predictable.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Enjoyable.”
“Which one?” he asked.
I studied him for a second. “Why?”
“Because,” he said, reaching for his drink like the question didn’t matter, “if I’m keeping you from it, I should at least know what I’m competing with.”
“Maid in Manhattan.” I answered without hesitation.
Nathan nodded thoughtfully, as if storing that bit of information away. “Why that one?”
I grabbed my napkin and wiped my fingers before answering.
“The social class difference. She’s a maid and he’s this big-time politician with paparazzi watching his every move.
He has his pick of equally beautiful and wealthy women, but he wants her.
He likes her.” I paused, shrugging lightly.
“Because she’s real. And he sees that.” I explained.
Nathan was quiet for a moment. “Seeing it is one thing,” he said finally. “Choosing it is another.”
I glanced up at him. “You think most people wouldn’t choose that?”
“I think most people like the idea of real,” he said. “Until it asks something of them.”
I frowned slightly. “Like what?”
His gaze shifted to me, steady, unreadable. “Risk,” he answered.
I let out a small breath, leaning back in my chair. “For the record, I’d still rather be at home watching it.”
“Noted,” he said.
I glanced back at him. “Noted?”
“I’ll make it up to you.”
My brow lifted. “You’re going to make up for keeping me late?”
His expression didn’t change, but there was something quieter there. “I said I would.”
I held his gaze, trying to decide if he actually meant it. That was the problem with Nathan. He usually did.
For the first time in a while, the tension between us eased, and we ate in companionable silence for a few minutes before a yawn escaped from me before I could stop it.
“Tired?” Nathan asked, sounding amused.
“Just a little bit.” I blushed. “Aren’t you?”
“I’ll be fine,” He answered. “I have a few more things here I’d like to finish up. You can go ahead for the night once you’re done eating.”
“You do realize you have a whole security team that can’t go home to their families until you leave, right?”
“Just a few more minutes,” Nathan argued.
I frowned. “You need to get some sleep.” When he didn’t budge, I tried again. “I hate to break it to you, Mr. Edge, but you’re human just like the rest of us.”
His lips quirked into something between amusement and resignation. “It’s not that. I’m used to working on a few hours of sleep. Side effects of having insomnia.”
The word lingered in the air between us.
I blinked. “Insomnia?”
He nodded, still casual, but his voice was quieter now. “Since I was eleven.” That’s how old he was when his mom died.
My chest tightened. “That's when...?”
“Yeah.” He looked away. “After that, sleep just stopped being easy.”
“I didn’t know.” My voice was soft, unsure. It felt strange, wrong even, that I’d worked beside him for years and never known this about him.
“You wouldn’t. I don’t really talk about it.” He smiled faintly. “It’s hard to sleep when your mind won’t shut off. So I work. At least that way the hours mean something.”
I should’ve left it there. But something in me wanted to understand him better. Wanted him to let me in a little more.
“Your mom. What was she like?” I asked gently.
His expression shifted, flicking with surprise, but then he gave in.
“She was sweet. Patient. The kind of mom who made cookies from scratch just because it was Friday. She loved birthdays. One year she let me plan her whole day. I made us go to Six Flags and eat way too much junk food.”
I smiled, imagining a much younger, carefree Nathan on a rollercoaster with his mom. It was the most human image of him I’d ever had.
“She sounds amazing,” I said quietly.
“She was.” The fondness in his voice softened something inside me, and then, just like that, he straightened, the boy retreating behind the man again.
I reached for a fry, more for something to do than anything else, dragging it through a mix of ketchup and mayonnaise I’d made on the edge of my plate.
His gaze dropped, lingering for a second. “What is that?”
I glanced down. “Ketchup and mayo.”
“I can see that.”
“Don’t judge it until you try it.” I held out the plate slightly in his direction.
His expression didn’t change. “I’m not trying it.”
I shrugged, popping the fry into my mouth. “You’re missing out.”
“I doubt it.”
His gaze lingered a second longer, not on the plate this time, but on me like he was cataloging something, filing it away for later.
By the time we finished eating, the room had gone quiet again but not in the same way it had before.
I wiped my hands on a napkin, glancing at the clock. “I should go.”
His gaze lifted briefly, settling on me. “Yeah,” he said.
I grabbed my bag, hesitating for half a second before turning toward the door. “Thank you for dinner.”
“Better than Maid in Manhattan?”
“I wouldn’t go that far.” I joked, and earned the surprising sound of Nathan’s laughter as a reward.
“Goodnight, Elise.”
Tonight had been unexpected. For a moment, Nathan Edge wasn’t just my boss—the hard-edged CEO with impossible standards. He was someone else entirely. A man with shadows in his past and a warmth buried so deep beneath his polished exterior that I almost missed it.
I didn’t know what to make of it. Of him. There was more to Nathan than I’d ever imagined, and that realization both terrified and intrigued me. The question now was whether I should run from it or dive deeper.