Page 40 of Corkscrew You
“Did you say your mom has a herb garden?”
I take him to the back door and point.
Twenty minutes later, I have a dish of spaghetti in front of me, made with peas, garlic, lemon zest and basil. Oh, and a hit of chilli.
“You’re a magician,” I tell him. “Want some wine?”
He makes a face. “I think I’m still hungover from two nights back.”
Interesting news. Explains the rough look the other morning. I wonder what kind of drunk Nate Durant is? Myself, I’m exceedingly merry. And then I’m unconscious.
Don’t get the wrong impression. Lack of money and an oversupply of work mean my opportunities to imbibe irresponsibly are few. Plus, Dad was very anti-drinking for the sake of getting drunk. Considered it a waste of good wine.
Besides, I don’t need alcohol to be buzzed right now. I can’t remember the last time I was this happy.
Then I notice Nate staring across the table at me. And he doesn’t look like he’s any kind of happy.
“I don’t want to compromise you,” he says.
Not one for the preamble is our Mr Durant.
“Compromise?”
“With the business. I don’t want to make things difficult for you.”
I lay down my fork. I’ve eaten most of my pasta anyway – it was figging delicious.
“How would it be difficult?” I ask, cautiously.
“If I have to … override you,” he says. “When we disagree.”
“You don’t know we’ll disagree.”
The corner of his mouth lifts, but his tone is still serious.
“That remark proves just how different we are. Which means we’lldefinitelydisagree.”
I don’t like where this discussion is heading because it reminds me that we’re not technically on an equal footing when it comes to this business. It was exhausting enough having to fight to keep Flora Valley Wines. I don’t want to have to fight to prove myself every single day. “Explain,” I demand.
“You’re optimistic,” he says. “And I err on the side of pessimism. You’re prepared to sail along and hope for the best, while I constantly anticipate and mitigate risk. You have organic, fluid systems, and I want everything locked down and in writing. And that’s just for starters.”
“Well, then,” I say. “We complement each other. Don’t we?”
What was meant to sound reasonable and confident came out more like a plea for reassurance.
Nate looks as though he intends to rebut.
But what he says is, “I’m not always aware of how I affect people. I can be overbearing, and when I’ve got a goal in my sights I tend to focus only on that. Everything else becomes noise, and sometimes everything else includes people I care about.”
And suddenly, I’m not defensive anymore. I’m touched. Hewantsthis to work out. He wantsusto work out. He’s doing what he does – anticipating risk, so he can enrol me in the mitigation of it.
“Should we have a code word then?” I ask.
“Codewhat?”
He’ll have to get used to my comments from left field.
“If you’re being a douche, I can say the word, so you’ll know you need to stop.”
