Page 47 of One Month's Notice

As Michael turned at the wall and continued his relentless pace, Nat imagined what Lexi would say to her right now. She would be furious, reminding her of all the ways she was good enough. Nat allowed something to shift inside her, deciding right there and then not to let her fears control her. She took a deep breath, dropped her towel on a chair, and walked over to the pool with a newfound sense of confidence.

Nat tentatively dipped a toe into the shimmering pool, her breath catching at the touch of water against her skin. It was cold—colder than she’d anticipated—but invigorating as well. She climbed down the steps, feeling a wave of excitement tingling on her skin until she was completely immersed in the clear water.

She let herself drift for a while, feeling the water lifting her up. It was the total opposite to the heavy doubts that usually held her back. With a shiver, she knew she needed to move to warm up and pushed away from the edge. Her movements were easy-going, almost awkward next to Michael’s graceful precision. But there was something endearing about her clumsy breaststroke—as if each paddle was a tiny protest against the need for everything to be flawless all the time on solid ground.

Nat relished the rhythm of her arms breaking the surface, followed by the gentle kick of her legs, creating soft ripples that lapped against the pool’s edge. She wasn’t fast or remarkably skilled, but here, in these leisurely laps, she found a rare sense of freedom from expectation.

After a few laps, with the taste of chlorine lingering on her lips and her muscles warmed from the effort, it was time for a change of pace. Nat made her way to the jacuzzi, where the promise of heated relaxation beckoned. As she settled onto the submerged bench, her eyes traced Michael’s form once more. He was a mesmerising sight, his body cutting through the water, lap after relentless lap.

As she watched him, a part of her acknowledged that sometimes, life called for the warmth of bubbling waters and the pleasure of rest, rather than the ceaseless pursuit of achievement. There in the jacuzzi, with the hum of the jets and the caress of hot water against her skin, Nat closed her eyes and embraced the balance between aspiration and contentment—a compromise that felt just right.

Moments later, she heard the sound of wet footsteps approaching the jacuzzi. Nat opened her eyes to see Michael climbing down and taking a seat. She feigned interest in the swirling patterns of foam around her as he sank into the bubbling space opposite, close enough that their knees almost touched beneath the surface.

“You’re quite the swimmer, huh?” Nat said.

“University swim team. I made it to nationals a few times.”

“I could have guessed.” Nat laughed, rolling her eyes. “You’re such an over-achiever!”

“I’m just multi-talented.” Michael’s smile was filled with a sense of deep satisfaction, but one that didn’t come across as arrogant.

Their legs brushed accidentally, causing a surge of energy to rush through Nat’s body. The sensation stirred something deep within her—an attraction that felt both thrilling and dangerous. She shifted a little, the movement sending ripples through the water. This was Michael—determined, serious Michael—and she was Nat, the one who saw beauty in imperfection and was always second-guessing herself. Being so close to him felt like a magnetic pull she wasn’t sure she could resist, not without breaking their agreement of just friendship.

“Do you have the time?” She attempted to maintain a neutral tone to her voice, hoping it would calm her racing heartbeat.

“Yes.” He looked towards the clock mounted on the wall. “Just after six-thirty.”

“Damn it.” Nat leapt up, breaking the spell of their closeness. She couldn’t shake the urge to protect herself. The chemistry was undeniable, but so was her fear of rejection. “Sorry, I’ve got to dash—babysitting duty calls.”

Nat wrapped the towel tightly around her waist, using it as a shield against the feelings being so close to Michael had stirred up. Without waiting for a reply or glancing back, she hurried away. Feeling both relieved to have an excuse to leave and a hint of regret, she welcomed the chance to break free from the rising heat that had nothing to do with the temperature of the water.

Chapter twenty-one

Tuesday 24th May

“I’m just going to pop out and grab some bits so I can make our lunch.” Michael reached for his keys from the kitchen counter.

Nat looked up from her laptop where she’d been engrossed in responding to a chat message from Jamie. He’d found out something that could be important, but he wanted to wait until he was certain before he told her any more. They would meet to discuss it properly in the office tomorrow.

“Just pick up something easy.” As much as she enjoyed their lunches, she didn’t want him to go to any trouble. But Michael was shaking his head before she even finished her sentence.

“I’d rather cook something nice for us.” He pulled on his jacket and smiled.

“OK, fine.” Nat masked the warmth spreading through her chest with a roll of her eyes. It felt nice to be looked after by someone. Over the last couple of weeks, she had discovered how much Michael enjoyed cooking. After the scrutiny of his almost empty fridge when she first came to his apartment, her initial scepticism had turned out to be unfounded.

With Michael gone, Nat moved to the lounge area, spreading her portfolio across the coffee table. She smoothed out the pages, her gaze tracing the lines of her latest design for what had to be the hundredth time. The entrance space for the hotel was the most critical part, meant to welcome guests and fill them with awe. It was almost complete, and pride swelled within her chest as she allowed herself a moment to admire the work.

Pushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear, she reached for her sketching pencils, the tips worn down to nubs from use. There were only a few bits left to refine, a few strokes of colour that would breathe life into the drawings. Next week’s interview was at the forefront of her mind, but as she made the finishing touches, the anxiety that usually gnawed at her insides settled into a quiet corner of her mind.

“Looking good,” she murmured to herself, allowing a rare smile of satisfaction. This project could be the one to change everything. Just maybe, her mother and Simon would finally see that she was more than capable of running a successful interior design business.

Nat was so lost in her work, she barely noticed as Michael returned with brown paper bags brimming with fresh groceries. She glanced up from her sketches at the sound of rustling in the kitchen.

“Back already?” Her voice carrying a note of surprise as she smoothed down the edges of her portfolio.

“It was quieter than expected.” Michael placed the bags on the counter with a gentle thud. He looked over at the open pages spread across the coffee table. “What’s that?”

“Oh, it’s nothing.” Nat lifted the cover to close the portfolio before he could see any more. “Just a little project I’m working on.”

---