Chapter 15
ONE STEP CLOSER TO THE EDGE
NATALIE
After our way-too-long hug and my pent up emotions, I needed to decompress.
The moment replayed in my head on a loop.
The warmth of his arms and the pull of his gaze burned into my memory.
I told myself I couldn’t let this go further.
I needed to cut all communication with Will and find someone else to help him with his project.
That would be the smart thing to do. The right thing.
But no matter how much I tried to convince myself, I couldn’t bring myself to send that email. I couldn’t let go.
Instead, I buried myself in his house project.
I spent hours creating a mood board for his house, obsessing over every detail.
Every piece of furniture, every color swatch, every texture—it all felt like pieces of the puzzle that was Will.
Designing again felt so natural, like I was reconnecting with a part of myself I hadn’t released in years.
When I finally sent the email, I expected to feel relief. It was carefully worded. Short. Professional. No room for misinterpretation.
Subject: Design Ideas
Good afternoon Will,
I’ve attached some initial inspiration images for your home. Let me know what you think and if there’s anything you’d like to change.
Best,
Natalie
After hitting send, I waited. And waited.
An hour passed, then another. By the end of the day, I realized he wasn’t going to reply.
I stared at my inbox, refreshing it more times than I’d like to admit. The silence felt deliberate, and I couldn’t help but wonder what it meant. Had I crossed a line? Or was he trying to avoid complications?
I told myself to let it go, but by the next morning, I couldn’t resist reaching out again. This time, I sent a quick text.
Natalie: Hi, Will. Just wanted to confirm you got my email. Let me know if you need anything clarified or adjusted.
It felt safe. Polite. But the moment I hit send, I felt a wave of regret. What was I doing? Why did I care so much?
When his reply came a few minutes later, my heart raced.
Will: Hi, Natalie. Thanks for following up. I got your email. Everything looks great so far. Let’s schedule a time to go over the next steps.
I stared at the screen, reading the words over and over. It was polite and professional, but it left me with more questions than answers.
Was he being careful? Or did he really not care?
The next day, I decided to test the water. I sent another email, this time leaving the door open for something more.
Subject: Moving Forward
I’m looking forward to working with you on your beautiful home. Is there a time we can meet to go over more details?
This time, his response came almost immediately.
How about Thursday over a drink? Bourbon House, 6:15?
A drink in the evening wasn’t casual. It wasn’t professional. It was personal.
I sat back in my chair, torn between excitement and panic. What was I doing? Why couldn’t I stop this?
I thought about replying with a counteroffer.
Maybe we could meet for coffee instead, something that felt safer, more appropriate.
But I knew I wanted to say yes. I wanted to see him again, to feel the way I felt when I was around him: alive, desired, seen.
So, I agreed to meet him at Bourbon House.
Sure, I told myself, we’d just talk about designs, because nothing complicates professional boundaries like dim lighting and dinner with a full bar. Who was I fooling?
I contacted my sitter to see if she was available to watch the kids. I confirmed with Will, and that was that. The lines were starting to get blurry, I was willing to step over them, even if I didn’t know where they’d lead.
By the time Thursday arrived, my nerves were shot.
I stood in front of my closet, agonizing over every outfit.
Nothing felt right. Everything either felt too casual or too deliberate, like I was trying too hard.
In the end, I settled on a simple short black dress with a white blazer and black pumps.
It was elegant but understated, the kind of outfit that could pass for professional but still felt sexy.
As I got ready, I caught my reflection in the mirror. My heart pounded as I stared at myself, a mix of excitement and fear swirling in my chest. I was about to step into uncharted territory, and I had no idea where it would lead.