Page 68 of New York Love Stories: Vol. 1

“Why does it sound bad when women are ambitious? Like it’s a dirty word or something.”

“It’s not to me.” Brushing the backs of his fingers across my cheek, he lowers his voice, and says, “It’s incredibly sexy. Your excitement is intoxicating.” Tapping his glass to mine, he says, “Here’s to you.”

I feel his voice vibrating deep inside me, my heart clinging to the words of support.

We drink but don’t have time for another before the hostess finds us to lead us to our table. After ordering our meals, I lean closer, hating that there’s a table between us. I’d rather be next to him or, even better, on his lap. Why’d I insist on going out when being alone with him is so deliciously divine? To distract myself from lunging across this table and settling onto his lap, I ask, “How was your day?”

The smile I love so much doesn’t bring joy to his eyes or reveal his dimples this time, making me wonder what’s on his mind. After looking around the room, his hazel eyes land back on me, making me feel special like I’m the only one he truly sees.

He asks, “Can you do your job remotely, or do you need to be in New York?”

“A bit of both, and also it depends on when. Sometimes I need to be here to fine-tune details for clients, but otherwise, I do a lot over email and phone. Why?”

“Well, I want to know if you'd like to come to California? Thinking for a weekend, or if you can work remotely, however long you’d like. My family has a beach house, so I was thinking we could stay there. It’s not much, more like a bungalow, but it’s pretty great. That’s where I go when I want to get away, or I’m looking to surf.”

This time, he’s the one leaning closer. Lowering his voice, he continues, “I’d like you to meet my parents and my brother.” He appears to back away from the offer as he leans back in his chair. The light that flickered in his eyes when he asked has disappeared. “Only if you want.”

Studying him, I can tell something is off—his eyes are wandering as much as his thoughts appear to be. The distance between us feels like it’s growing larger than the wood table, but I try not to let it bother me. I’m probably reading too much into it anyway. “You want to introduce me to your family?”

“My mom is excited to meet you.”

“It’s so sweet that you talk to her about me.”

“Have you mentioned to me to your family?”

Now I feel bad. Lowering my voice, I reply, “I’m always honest with you, so I’m not going to lie or make up an excuse. The thing is, my parents saw me go through a terrible relationship. Tatum has witnessed me at my lowest, when I believed that I was no good for anyone and lucky to have him. So the truth is, Tatum knows, as you’ve seen, but I was planning to introduce you to my parents and brother.” When he doesn’t say anything, I add, “We have a family dinner once a month, and I was going to ask if you wanted to join me in two weeks.”

“But you haven’t mentioned me?”

“I don’t talk to them all the time. They’re busy, and I’m busy. If you said yes, I was going to tell them I’d be bringing a date.” I take a sip of the rum and then say, “If you said no, I’d wait until we’ve been dating a bit longer. I don’t like to disappoint them. But to be fair, I believed we’d work out, so I haven’t had a doubt about dinner with them and you meeting them then.”

He smirks. “You believe we’ll work out?”

I turn away, not letting him win, but when I grin, too, I know he does anyway. “Did I just open a can of worms?”

“You did.” He reaches over and takes my hand. “I really don’t care that you haven’t talked to them about us. We’re newer, and when you’ve been burned by someone you cared about, it’s always best to take the next relationship in stride.” He takes his glass in hand and says, “Here’s to getting it right this time.”

“To getting it right.” Our eyes are fixed on each other as we drink. Lowering the glass back down, I say, “Tell me more about this beach house in California.”

“It’s one of my favorite places in the world. Wait until you see that water.”

We eat, the conversation lighter, but I have this weird feeling he’s holding back. Since he never answered prior, I ask, “What’s on your mind?”

The smile I expect to see doesn’t arrive. He spins the glass around with his deft fingers, the distance creeping between us. Whispering over the table, I add, “Nick, are you going to talk to me?”

“About?”

“About what’s on your mind. Did something happen?”

He rearranges his napkin on his lap and then sits up again as if he remembered he was in public. “The company is expanding to the Pacific Northwest. If they get the deal they want.” Adjusting the cuffs of his sleeves, he drops that bomb and then plays like that didn’t just happen.

But I’m still trying to read between the lines. “If everything is going so well, why are you concerned?”

Drinking, he finishes the rest of the alcohol before setting the glass back down. “You’re right. Things are going well. We targeted New York. Seattle is an unexpected opportunity, but it would poise us for the growth goals we’re aiming for. Just a fast track to reaching them. I just thought . . . Well, I thought New York was enough for now.”

I stare at him, noticing how little eye contact he’s made. My gaze dips to his hand again to find him still spinning that glass. Nick has tells, and the glass is one of them. He’s holding back, not giving me the full story. I can’t help but wonder why, so I try a different tactic. “I like the apartment. When do you think you’ll move in?” I ask, testing which direction the waters of his mood flow in.

The check is delivered, and he’s quick to take it. “Dinner was good.”

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