Chapter 6
SIX
Nate sat in his office, staring at the empty chair where Melody had sat just moments ago. The lingering scent of her perfume hung in the air, a haunting reminder of their unexpected encounter. His mind reeled, trying to process the cosmic joke that had just unfolded.
Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, she walks into mine. Or rather, I walk into hers. As her editor. After a one-night stand.
Fantastic.
He loosened his tie, feeling like it was choking him. The look on Melody's face when she realized who he was... It was a mix of shock, anger, and something else. Hurt, maybe? The memory of it twisted in his gut like a knife.
"Way to go, Nate," he growled at the ceiling. "You've really outdone yourself this time."
He reached for his phone, scrolling through his contacts until he found Alex's number. If anyone could help him make sense of this mess, it was him. He hit dial, praying Alex wasn't in the middle of saving lives or running drills with his crew.
"Nate! Bro!" Alex's cheerful voice came through after two rings. "Just got off shift. Perfect timing—I was about to crash for twelve hours. What's up? Let me guess…You're calling to confess that I bagged more girls at St. George’s than you ever could?"
Despite everything, Nate chuckled. "In your dreams, Harper. Listen, you free for drinks? I've got a situation."
There was a pause, and Nate could practically hear Alex's eyebrows raising. "A situation? On a scale of 'I accidentally used Dad's parking spot' to 'I've decided to quit and become a circus clown', how bad are we talking?"
"Somewhere between 'I slept with my new author' and 'said author now hates my guts'. So, you know, just another Tuesday."
"Damn, Carlisle. You don't do anything by halves, do you? Let me grab a shower. Spent the last hour cutting someone out of their car, and I don't think smoke and hydraulic fluid is the vibe we're going for. How about we hit The Blue Tap in 25? Sounds like you need a drink. Or ten."
Nate grabbed his jacket and headed out, telling his assistant he was taking the rest of the day off. The walk to Blue Tap helped clear his head a bit, the cool Seattle air a welcome relief from the stifling atmosphere of his office.
Alex was already at the bar when he arrived, two whiskeys waiting.
His golden-brown eyes scanned Nate with the same analytical gaze he used to assess emergency scenes.
Even in civilian clothes, he carried himself with that distinctive firefighter alertness—ready to spring into action at a moment's notice.
The red beard he started growing in the academy was neatly trimmed now, but still gave him that rugged look that made rookie firefighters automatically trust him.
"You look like you've been hit by a truck. A very angry, very attractive truck, I'm guessing?"
Nate slid onto the barstool next to him, downing half his whiskey in one go. "You have no idea."
Alex's phone buzzed—probably the station—but he silenced it after a quick glance. "I'm off duty for the next 24 unless it's a five-alarm. So, out with it. Who's this author, and how did you manage to sleep with her before even meeting her professionally?"
Nate launched into the story, starting with the publishing event and ending with Melody storming out of his office. Alex listened, his expression battling between amusement and sympathy.
"Let me get this straight," Alex said when Nate finished. "You had a one-night stand with a woman at a party, didn't get her number, and then she turns out to be the author you're supposed to be editing? And now she's pissed because you want to make her books more commercial?"
Nate nodded miserably. "That about sums it up."
"Well, buddy, I've got to hand it to you. When you screw up, you really commit to it."
Nate glared at him. "Thanks, Alex. Your support is overwhelming."
Alex chuckled, clapping him on the shoulder. "Hey, I'm just impressed. This is like something out of one of those romance novels you're supposed to be editing."
The irony wasn't lost on Nate. "Yeah, well, I doubt Melody's going to be writing our happy ending anytime soon."
Alex's expression turned serious. "Look, Nate, I know this is a mess, but you've got to keep your head on straight. You're her editor now. That means maintaining a professional relationship, regardless of your... history."
Nate sighed, tapping the edge of his whiskey glass. "I know, I know. But you didn't see her, Alex. The way she looked at me when I suggested changing her work... It was like I'd suggested burning down an orphanage."
"From what you've told me about her books, I'm not surprised," Alex said. "She seems passionate about her writing. That's not a bad thing."
"No, it's not," Nate admitted. "Her books are amazing, actually. Raw, honest. Nothing like the formulaic stuff we usually publish."
Alex raised an eyebrow. "Sounds like you admire her work."
Nate nodded, surprised by his own vehemence. "I do. That's what makes this so damn complicated. Part of me wants to protect her vision, but I've got my father breathing down my neck about commercial viability."
"Ah, the old Liam Carlisle special. All business, no heart. No offense."
"None taken," Nate muttered. "You're not wrong."
They sat in silence for a moment, nursing their drinks. Finally, Alex spoke up. "Okay, here's what you're going to do. First, you're going to finish that whiskey. Then, you're going to go home, take a cold shower, and come back to this with fresh eyes tomorrow."
"A cold shower? Really?"
Alex grinned. "Hey, from the way you described this Melody, sounds like you might need it. But seriously, Nate. You need to separate the personal from the professional here. Treat her like any other author."
"But she's not any other author," Nate protested.
"I know. But for the sake of your career—and hers—you need to act like she is. Be professional, be respectful, and for God's sake, keep your hands to yourself."
Nate nodded, knowing Alex was right. "Thanks, Alex. I don't know what I'd do without you."
"Probably end up in a lot more awkward situations," Alex quipped. "Now, how about another round? On me. Sounds like you could use it."
As they ordered another whiskey, Nate's mind wrapped and nearly choked itself around the image of Melody. The fire in her eyes when she defended her work, the passion in her voice... It was captivating. And terrifying.
He knew Alex was right. He needed to approach this professionally. But as he sipped his drink, he couldn't shake the feeling that working with Melody was going to be anything but ordinary.
Tomorrow, he would go back to the office. He would be Nathaniel Carlisle, professional editor. He would find a way to balance Melody's vision with the company's needs. He would be cool, calm, and collected.
But tonight? Tonight, he would allow himself to remember the softness of her skin, the sound of her laugh, the way she felt beneath him. Just for tonight.
Because tomorrow, the real work began. And something told him it was going to be one hell of a challenge.
As Alex and Nate clinked glasses, Nate silently toasted to the unexpected. To complicated women and even more complicated situations. To the mess he had gotten himself into, and the long road ahead to fix it.