Chapter Nine #2
The man wasn't going to be here for long. Besides, we were complete opposites. I was a happy person. My mother always said I was the most cheerful of her daughters. I loved counting my blessings. Dad had taught all three of us girls to do that since we were little.
“Natalie, lovebug, you had a hard day, not a hard life. Remember to count your blessings.”
I did that even now.
Jake seemed determined to be unhappy. We certainly weren't compatible in the slightest. Except in the chemistry department. We had that in spades.
"All right, Natalie and I have to leave," Jake said, putting his empty glass on the living room table. "I'm dropping her off at her home, and then I'm going straight to the hotel."
"You're welcome to stay with any of us," Colton said. “You know that right?”
"Oh, please," Gabe said. "That would cramp his style, interfere with his morning jujitsu routine, or whatever it is he's doing."
"You should try it sometime," Jake said.
I was stunned by the subtle change in his voice.
He was starting to mellow out, and he'd only needed a few minutes with his family.
I had an inkling I might see another side to Jake altogether.
But bottom line, Jeannie was my client, and we had yet to figure out what we wanted to do now that Jake's home was out of the question.
There was really no reason for me to ever see him again. I was disappointed at the thought.
He trained his blue eyes on me, which rooted me to the spot. "Natalie, are you ready?"
I felt like we were alone in the room, even though the Whitleys were chatting loudly.
"Yeah, I'm ready. Let's go. Jeannie, I’ll come up with several other options and call you to set up a time to meet, okay?"
"Sure thing, honey. I'm sure we'll find the right way to celebrate this milestone." Turning to her grandson, she said, "Jake, thank you for everything, and welcome home."
He kissed his grandmother's cheek and shook his brothers' hands before we left the house. Stepping outside, he led me directly to the car. I climbed in quickly without giving him a chance to open the door. For some reason that seemed to be an intense moment between us. Go figure.
The second we were both inside, Jake turned and asked, "What's your address?"
"I live in East Boston."
"Okay. We'll head right there," the driver replied after I gave him the exact address, and the car jerked forward. I looked at Jake in silence. I had a million questions bubbling up.
"Ask away," he said eventually, startling me.
"How do you know I wanted to ask anything?"
He glanced sideways at me, drumming his fingers over the empty seat between us. I had to stop obsessing over his fingers.
"You have that expression when you can't help yourself and are on the verge of exploding with questions."
"What made you decide to take the job if you were so dead against it?"
"My grandfather is unwell. I'm not about to let the man kill himself trying to keep that company afloat. I'll figure something out in New York."
He glanced out the window as I melted on the inside. From the moment I met him, I instinctively knew that Jake Whitley would always do exactly what he wanted, no matter the consequences. But today I learned that he did put someone else first: his family.
"It's not so bad, you know," I said. "Boston is an amazing city."
"I know. I grew up here."
Okay, grumpy Jake was back, and it seemed like he wouldn't slip out of this slump. I glanced outside, mentally reviewing possible party venues in and around Boston for Jeannie. She clearly liked the outdoors, so that eliminated about half the places I knew. I’d have to scout out new locations.
We arrived in front of my home about twenty minutes later.
I lived in a cute neighborhood that was far away from the water, but it was cozy, and I liked it.
I got out of the car and went to the trunk to get my bag, but Jake was there first. Interesting—he hadn't even attempted to open my door. Did that mean he’d realized exactly what the previous interactions had done to me?
No, I was being silly. Maybe he was simply lost in thought.
He took out my suitcase and rolled it right to my front door.
I froze when I saw the letter peeking out of my mailbox. I recognized the handwriting. It was from my ex, Vince. Why the hell would he write me a letter? He lived in Boston too.
"Natalie, what's wrong?"
I grabbed the letter without bothering to open it. A cold shudder ran all over me.
"Thank you for bringing my suitcase, Jake. Welcome to Boston." I took out my keys from my bag. He was rooted to the spot at the base of the steps. I attempted to jab in the key, but my hands were shaking so badly that instead I dropped it.
Jake was next to me in an instant. He picked up the key. “Which one unlocks the door?”
"The big gold one," I said.
He unlocked the door, opening it wide for me. I immediately threw the letter in the bin I had by the kitchen door.
"Natalie," he said as I rolled my suitcase away from the front door. "What happened? Who was that letter from? You seemed to recognize the handwriting, so it was either a neighbor or someone else who knows you very personally. Judging by the fact that you paled, I'd say the latter."
"You double as a detective in your free time?" I attempted to tease, but my voice was feeble.
"Do you need a detective?" Jake asked seriously.
I closed my eyes, laughing despite myself. I knew he didn't mean this in a funny way. His reaction was endearing.
"No, I don't."
He stood in the doorway and clearly had no intention of leaving until I told him what happened.
"Tell me what’s wrong. I want to know. I want to help."
"Come on in," I said. "Funny, yesterday you couldn't wait to get rid of me, and now you won't leave me alone."
"You’re shaking," he said.
"Want to sit down?" I pointed to my tiny sofa by the wall.
He nodded, and we both sat.
"It’s from my ex-boyfriend. I have no idea how he has my new address. I moved here recently and haven’t shared my whereabouts with anyone except my best friend, Larissa, and she wouldn’t tell him, or anyone else for that matter.”
"Is he stalking you?"
The words sent a shock wave through me.
"No, nothing like that. At least I don't think so. He's just being an asshole. We broke up six months ago, and he’s tried to get back with me a couple times."
"What does he want now?" he asked.
"I don't know. I thought he gave up on the idea of getting back together. I haven’t heard from him in about a month. Maybe this was his way of telling me he knows where I am. A text message would've sufficed, you know? But he always liked to intimidate me."
"I can't imagine anyone ever being able to intimidate you."
"That's because you don't know my ex," I said with a sad smile.
"Does he have anything to do with the reason you’re changing jobs?”
"Yes. Everything happens for a reason, huh? Well, I’ve read somewhere that sometimes the reason is that you make stupid choices, and those lead to stupid results. It applies to me."
"Natalie." His voice was soft. “We own condos around the city. I can talk to my brothers right now and ask if any of them are free for you to move in."
I couldn't believe what he just said.
"Wait, have I stepped into an alternate universe? Why would you even offer that?"
"Is it safe for you to live here?"
"Even if it wasn’t, why would you offer?"
"Because we have condos, and you might need a place to stay." His eyes pinned me to my spot. They were intense and also full of worry.
I shook my head. "Thanks for the offer, but that's really not necessary. And even if it were, I wouldn't take you up on it."
"Why not?" He sounded exasperated, like he couldn't possibly understand.
"I don't know you, Jake, or your family. I met your grandmother a couple weeks ago and you yesterday. I can’t accept to move into one of the properties your family owns."
Standing up, he took off his jacket. My little cozy home was unseasonably warm, and it had no AC.
"Anything you need, call me. I mean it."
"That’s very generous of you to offer, Jake. I didn't think you had it in you."
"You're getting your sass back. Good." Looking around, he added, “I like your house. It’s very welcoming.”
“Thanks. I wanted to make it as cozy as possible. I have a bit of an obsession with paintings. I buy them from up-and-coming artists.”
“They fit here. Looks good.”