Page 36 of The Rich One

The flavor that invades my senses as I take a sip is like a little slice of heaven.Why have I never had one of these before now?

“Wow, that is something else.”

“You should try it with something from the bake case. Did you know they won an award for their pastries?” He slides the menu over for me to take a look.

“Did they?”

“Yeah. They gave a speech to say thanks, said it was a piece of cake.” I raise my eyes to peer at him, and he looks so serious, but his face is cracking. There’s a smile that wants to break free from his terrible joke-telling skills.

I can’t help it. I crack up, causing Nathaniel to lose his cool too.

The next couple of hours pass quickly. We try a few new drinks, sharing them between us so we can sample as many as possible. Turns out, we’re both creatures of habit and usually stick to what we know. We’ve discovered one or two coffees that will never grace our lips again, as well as a few new ones to add to our usual palette.

Sharing a little piece of myself with this man has felt kind of liberating. I’ve never tried to explain how we grew up surrounded by communal pets to someone before. Nathaniel asks questions and seems really into learning more, keeping me fully at ease the whole time.

“We had, Leaf, Lync, and Lapy, the dogs. And then Limpy and Patches were the cats. I named Patches.” I smile at the memory.

“Of course you did. It’s the only name that doesn’t begin with an L.” He lets out one of those sexy, growly laughs again, one that has my insides swirling with need.

It’s not that kind of date though, I’ve realized. Something I’m glad about because this whole thing is lighting up my day.

The gentle touches over the table, soft brushes of the thigh, the occasional “accidental” footsie, are all adding to a growing need I have for this man. But I don’t want what I think we could have to be ruined by all that. Not yet anyway. I just want to enjoy this for a little longer. Maybe a few years. When I don’t need to work anymore, then it can change.

Fuck. No.

That’s what I’ve done with Kai. I can’t do it to Nathaniel too.

It’s fine. I can do platonic with this man. He clearly wants to go slow anyway. And I don’t blame him, considering his wife died of cancer a few years ago. This feels like him just dipping his toes back into the pool. I’m good with that, because I can’t offer anything more anyway.

Doesn’t mean I can’t use him for spank bank material when I get home.

Mind out of the gutter, River.

“I wish I could stay longer, but I’ve got to go. This has been fun.” A genuine look of disappointment crosses his face, and I’ve got to say it makes me feel good about doing this today. I almost backed out, but learning my Candy Aisle Guy is more than just someone pretty to look at has been a success.

My personal cell phone ringing interrupts before I can reply.

“Sorry, I’ve got to take this.”

There's no caller ID when I check. It could be some marketing call but after everything that's happened, I'm not naive enough to believe that. Still, I can't help but answer, an apologetic glance aimed at Nathaniel.

“Hello?”

“You need to be careful, cunt.” The voice is computerized and I can’t tell who it is, let alone if it’s male or female. What it is, though, is creepy as fuck.

“Who is this?”

The line goes dead.

I’m not sure how many minutes pass before Nathaniel speaks, but he pulls me out of whatever fog I’ve been sucked into.

“River… River? Everything okay?” He’s concerned, his brow furrowed as his captivating blue eyes demand an answer.

“Yeah. Must’ve been a wrong number.” I find a little bit of my Rose mask and plaster on a smile, like I didn’t just have a mini meltdown. These phone calls are getting out of hand. On my work phone, they were easier to pass off as dickheads just being dickheads. But my personal phone? And they actually spoke this time. It’s unnerving to say the least.

How did they even get my personal number anyway? Who the fuck could it be and what is their end game?

“You sure you’re okay, gorgeous? You look a little shaken up.” The way he speaks to me and calls me gorgeous is almost enough to make me forget. Almost.

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