“Don’t ever call yourself a bitch again.” Jesus! I can’t say anything right!
“I’m going to let you go, this isn’t getting us anywhere. Do you need a ride from the airport tomorrow night?”
“No.”
“Are you going to come to my place?”
“No, come to my place after work.”
“I don’t have a key.”
“Yes you do.”
Huh?
“I do?”
“Yes, check your key ring. I put it on there last weekend.” His voice is softer now and I’m shocked.
“Oh.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow night.”
“Goodnight.”
“Goodnight, Julianne.”
Chapter Seventeen
This has been the day from hell. I was late to work this morning, after sleeping like the dead last night and through my alarm. Mrs. Glover was not pleased to see me this morning, but when I explained what happened, and showed her the photos of baby Olivia on my phone, she softened up a bit and said she understood.
Thank goodness.
Not that she’s my boss, but I do not want to make an enemy of her.
Nate has been in constant communication with me all day, sending emails requesting documents or research to be done, but nothing at all personal. As soon as I got to my office this morning, I opened the document I had Jenny email to Nate yesterday, and was stunned to see that Nate was right. It was half-done, and riddled with mistakes. It was not the final draft I’d finished, saved and attached to the email to go out to him. I don’t know what the fuck happened, but I hope that the extra work I’ve put in this morning has helped straighten the mess out.
I feel shitty for making Nate think that our relationship isn’t important to me. Of course it is. But there are times that he’s just so… bossy. I know he’s a strong, intelligent man, and that he wants to protect me and care for me, but I’ve always been so fiercely independent, I forget that I’m no longer a “me” and part of a “we”.
I need to make it up to him. But how?
I’m pondering this when another email comes through from Nate.
Wednesday, May 15, 2013 14:28
From: Nathan McKenna
To: Julianne Montgomery
Subject: Departing
Julianne,
I am about to board the plane back to Seattle. Once you’ve finished with the reports I emailed to you earlier, you are free to leave for the day.
Nate
He’s still so cold, although I know that in work email he doesn’t really have a choice. He could have texted me with something more personal, and the fact that he didn’t makes me really nervous.
Did I fuck up so badly yesterday that he’s going to break it off?
Wednesday, May, 15, 2013 14:35
From: Julianne Montgomery
To: Nathan McKenna
Subject: Re: Departing
Nate,
Safe travels. See you in the office tomorrow.
Julianne
But he’s not getting off that easy. I pull out my phone and send him a text.
Please travel safely. I’m excited to see you tonight.
There is no response.
Shit.
***
I’m later getting to Nate’s than I really intended to be. I had to stop by the hospital to see Natalie, Luke and Olivia, and I couldn’t go empty-handed, so I stopped to shop a little on the way. I ended up with a huge, super-soft giraffe and a tiny pink onesie that says, “Birth: Nailed It.”
I don’t have any idea if Nate has already made it home because I haven’t heard a peep from him. I guess I’ll find out when I get there.
I park in my usual space, leave my suitcase in the car in case I’m not welcome to stay here tonight, and ride the elevator to his floor, and as the elevator climbs, so does my anxiety level.
Based on how things have gone over the past twenty-four hours, I’m inclined to believe that things may be done between us. The thought of it makes me hurt like nothing ever has before.
I walk down to his door and put my shiny new key in the lock. I step into Nate’s apartment, and can immediately sense that I’m alone.
He’s not home yet.
It’s chilly inside, so I switch on his gas fireplace to warm the space and turn on a few lamps in the living room and the light over the kitchen stove.
Maybe I should cook for him? I wonder if he’s eaten.
I’m standing in the middle of Nate’s sexy kitchen, wondering what to do with myself when the front door opens and he walks inside, pulling his small black suitcase behind him. He’s wearing another dark suit and tie, and his hair is pulled back off his face.
He’s still in executive mode.
“I’ll be right back,” he murmurs and walks through the great room toward his bedroom without sparing me a glance.
Maybe I should just save him the trouble of telling me it’s over and leave now. I know he’s mad, and I wasn’t expecting a scene from a movie where we run toward each other in slow motion and hold on for dear life. We saw each other just yesterday morning, for Pete’s sake, but I was hoping for something a little warmer than that.
My heels click on the hardwood as I walk to the couch and gather my purse and wrap, and then I head to the front door. My hand is on the knob when I hear his hard voice across the room.
“If you walk through that door, so help me God, Julianne, I will tie you to my bed.”
I lower my head and sigh. I’m so confused. He wants me to stay?
“Look at me.” It’s not a request.
I turn around and face him. He’s changed into a soft gray t-shirt and black jeans, and his hair is down. He’s shed his professional clothes, and is just a man standing before me.
An angry man.
“Where are you going?” he asks and crosses his arms over his chest.
“Home.”
“Why?”
“You don’t seem to be terribly happy to see me.” I’m proud of keeping my voice steady despite the tears that want to come.
God, I’m such a girl.