Better Not Love Me Page 9

  "Hey! Watch it, Squirt," Amelia teased. "We old people take offense to those 'forever ago' comments."

  "Well, it does seem like a long time ago, Susanna," Nate said. "The boat was owned by Mr. Ellsberg. Now, that’s a man you always called mister. Huge man. He owned the other cabin in the cove with his wife. In fact, he probably still owns it, but he'd be in his late 70s or 80s by now. I haven't seen him or his wife for years. But someone has been taking care of the cabin, even though it's empty."

  "It's a landscape company," Amy said. "They blocked me in with their trucks last week."

  "I guess that makes sense," he said.

  "OK, but why is there a sunken boat in the cove?" Susanna asked again.

  "Right. I wasn't there, but my father was, so this is all second hand—but they told me the story. Mr. Ellsberg would fish nearly every weekend morning. He was religious about it. He would row his boat out of the cove and into the inlet just west of here. My dad told me that he'd do it for his daily exercise or just to get away from his wife for a few hours each day. Both could be true. His wife was a little abrasive, even to me when I was a kid. Anyway, he never took the boat out of the water. Even in the winter when the water level of the lake would drop a few feet. An aluminum boat like that should last a long time, but I suspect that when the lake level dropped it rubbed on the shore and eventually weakened the hull. When he arrived at the dock one morning—or so my father told me—Mr. Ellsberg stepped onto the boat, directly on the bottom of the bow. His foot went straight through the corroded metal. He managed to pull his foot out, but by that time he had lost his balance and was on his back. The boat was taking on water too. He swam back to the dock, but by then the boat was fully submerged. My dad was watching from this deck, but by the time my dad got to the water, it was a lost cause."

  "But it's only in maybe 10 feet of water," Susanna said. "Why didn't they just pull it up?"

  "If I had to guess? His wife wouldn't let him."

  Amelia and Amy laughed at that.

  "Maybe his wife sabotaged it," Marcus offered.

  "I wouldn't put it past her, that's for sure," Nate said. "In the end the damaged boat was probably a goner anyway. Repairing an old boat like that would probably cost more than it was worth."

  "Do you fish, Nate?" Amy asked.

  "Just with playing cards—Go Fish," he said. "Never really got into it."

  "But you've got a boat. I just figured you'd have some fishing stories to tell us," she said.

  "Honestly, I haven't spent as much time here as I would have liked. It's nowhere near home and traveling here from Texas takes at least a full day," he said. "And when I was staying here in the summers growing up, I was working on projects to keep the place running. It takes a lot to keep the cabin in one piece."

  The dinner continued and the conversations flowed freely for more than an hour. Nate shared what he knew about the lake and the cabins. They avoided any discussions about Mr. Z's or Nate and Amelia's past working relationship.

  "Nate, you said your grandparents originally built the cabin?" Amelia asked, as they cleared the table and walked into the kitchen.

  "My grandparents were from Wallace, Idaho. My grandfather worked in a mine up that way. They saved up his wages and bought the land here and built the cabin in stages in the 1950s, which is why it's so chopped up. They had to finish off one section and ready it for winter before moving to the next."

  "I thought you were from Texas," Amelia said.

  "Not originally. I was born right here in Coeur d'Alene."

  "Why didn't you ever tell me that?" she said.

  "Are you in the habit of telling everyone you meet where you were born?"

  "I guess not."

  "And you never asked," he said, as he rinsed off dishes in the sink. "I only went to Texas for college. I wanted to get as far away from here as I could and Texas looked like fun."

  "I know what it feels like to want to escape a small town," Amelia said. "I felt the same way growing up north of here in Bonners Ferry."

  "You never told me you were from Bonners Ferry," Nate said.

  "Yes I did, and it is written on all of the Mr. Z's story plaques on the walls of each store."

  "I know, I was teasing," he said.

  She blushed.

  "I'm not used to you being funny. Or trying to be funny," she said.

  "There's a lot you don't know about me, Ms. Cook."

  "Oh, please don't call me that. It gives me flashbacks to the first day we met when you showed up in that fancy suit and gave me a hard time."

  "Yeah, I wasn't at my best back then. Sorry about that."

  "Or in the following years either."

  "That bad?" he asked.

  "I'm afraid so."

  Amy joined them in the kitchen.

  "I'm going to take the kids down to the dock to watch the sunset," she said. "You adults OK cleaning up this mess?"

  "I think we've got it covered," Nate said before Amelia could protest.

  As Amy and kids left, Amelia realized her heart was racing again and her skin was flush. She was still nervous.

  "I don't know about you," Nate said. "But how about we leave this mess for later, grab a new bottle of wine and watch that sunset from the deck? The view's better up here anyway."

  "I'm game for that," Amelia replied.

  Chapter 18

  Nate set two Adirondack chairs near the railing of the deck as Amelia uncorked a new bottle and poured two glasses of wine.

  "You've got a heavy pouring hand," Nate said, settling into his chair and accepting the glass.

  "I learned from Amy. All the way back to when we were too young to know any better."

  "It's great that you two are still so close."

  "I'm just glad she's always there for me."

  "Well, that's what family is for," he said.

  "Do you have siblings?" she asked.

  "Yes. A brother, but he's since passed on."

  "Oh, I'm sorry," she said.

  "It's OK. He was a great guy. A few years younger than me."

  Amelia waited for Nate to continue, but he didn't and the conversation stalled. They sat quietly for a few moments and watched the sunset. She watched Nate sip his wine and carefully place it back on the arm of the chair. He seemed perfectly content with the silence, which she admired even as she realized it was driving her nuts.

  "Can I ask you something?" she finally said.

  "I suppose so," he replied.

  "What did you mean the other day in the driveway about me knowing why you were here?"

  "I thought you'd have it all figured out by now," he said.

  "I have thought a lot about it, but I still don’t know what you meant."

  Nate turned away from the sunset and positioned himself so he could look directly at her.

  "Nobody has ever talked to me the way that you did that day—the day you quit. You were rude and loud and didn't let me get two words in as you cursed me up and down. But in the middle of your diatribe against me I set aside the anger I was feeling at you and started listening. Don't act too shocked."

  "I'll try my best."

  "You had this passion for Mr. Z's. You mentioned some list of Mary Klein’s you found that said we were doing it all wrong. You said the job had sucked the life out of you and you knew your store's employees better than your own children. You said you had become addicted to the store and work and that you hated it. And you hated me too."

  "Nate, I'm sorry that—"

  He stopped her.

  "It's all right. You don't have to apologize. I know where you were coming from. I'm surprised you were the first employee to say it to me because I'm certain others felt the same too. My only focus has been driving that division of Riddell and I lost sight of everything else. I got an overwhelming sense of clarity when you stormed out the door that day. But as the days ticked by and I planned my own escape, I thought about how similar you and I really are."

  "How so?"

&
nbsp; Nate explained his marriage and how he and Stephanie had worked side by side for so many years until the bike accident took her away from him. He told Amelia that Chloe was raised mainly by her grandmother because he was too stubborn to take time away from work and be the father that she needed.

  "Chloe's a great kid," Amelia said.

  "Yes, I know and I wish I could take some of the credit for that, but I can't," he replied. "That's all thanks to her grandmother."

  "That's not the whole truth," she said. "Being a single parent isn't easy. I know that firsthand."

  "Well, I took your advice and decided that I too needed more time with my family and brought Chloe up here."

  "How long is your vacation?" she asked.

  "I don't know," he said.

  "What do you mean 'you don't know?'"

  "It's more like an extended leave of absence."

  "But Riddell doesn't do leaves of absence. I know, because I tried to get one."

  "I threatened to simply quit if they didn't allow me time away. Graham Barnes nearly threw me out when I asked. I'm fairly sure my position will be gone when I go back to work. They'll probably ship me off to the mailroom when I return when Chloe heads back to school this fall."

  "Very daring move, Boss."

  "Oh no," he said. "Don't be calling me boss now, not after all this time."

  "Agreed, that's fair enough. It's just weird, you know, talking like this. Why didn't we ever talk like this before?" she asked.

  Nate held up his glass. "Liquid courage."

  "No, really. You seem like a completely different person than the guy I knew before."

  "I guess you didn't really know me."

  "I think that's well established, but why? In the four years I worked for you, I can count on one hand how many times I saw you."

  "That's true. Our first meeting in Spokane. The planning session in Dallas. The store opening in New York. The Chicago annual meeting and then in Dallas again when you let me have it, before you quit."

  Amelia marveled at how he too had memorized the times they had been together.

  "Why would you remember those times? Do you recall each time you've seen all your direct reports?"

  "Hardly."

  "Then why me?"

  Nate ignored the question, stood up and poured out his wine glass over the edge of the railing. He paused, watching Amy and the kids on the dock. The sun had set, but they all remained on the dock, with their feet dangling over the edge. Amy keeping them occupied with some distraction.

  "I should get the kitchen cleaned up," he said, without looking at Amelia. "I very much enjoyed talking with you tonight."

  Nate went inside, leaving Amelia alone on the deck. She sat there momentarily, trying to understand why Nate had so abruptly ended the conversation. She couldn't get over the unfinished feeling, like there was something missing. Maybe it was the wine. They'd both had plenty and she was feeling it. But it also tempered her unease about following him into the kitchen, which she did without hesitation.

  Nate's back was turned away from her when he reached high over his head to place a serving bowl on the top of a kitchen cabinet. She got a brief glimpse of the scar on his back as his shirt rose up with his movement. The shirt again covered up the scar as he put his arms down and turned to face her.

  "What was that about?" she asked. "If I said something to upset you, I'm sorry. I know I haven't been the nicest person toward you . . . well, ever."

  He smiled.

  "No, you haven't, but I made sure of that," he said.

  "I need to know what that means," she said, frustrated.

  "I know. You deserve to."

  He walked around the kitchen island so they were standing face to face. So close that she could smell his aftershave. Amelia's brain didn't work fast enough to register what was happening and why she was suddenly inches from Nate. He placed his hands on her waist and lower back and guided her even closer to him. She craned her neck to look at him.

  Hours ago, the thought of being so close to this man would have made Amelia run. He was pure evil, right? But something was different about him. There was a vulnerability that she'd never seen before. And now as she felt his hard stomach as their bodies pressed together, she was confused at her feelings. He was so close. It was exhilarating. She hadn't been this close to a man since she and Josh split years ago and even then it was routine. Nate's touch excited her. Her body tensed. Her lips parted and she breathed deep.

  "I don't understand," she finally said.

  "Good."

  He ran his finger over a long strand of hair on the side of her face before tucking it behind her right ear. He then admired her neck and slowly caressed it with the back of his fingers, which gave her welcome chills up and down her body. At that moment her body was his and he could do whatever he wanted with her, but he was respectful and cautious.

  She put her arms around him and rested her head on his chest. Her heart was pounding, but she could hear the same inside his chest too, which made her excited and nervous. He played with her hair as he spoke. She loved the warmth of his body and reveled in his scent.

  "From that first day I met you in Spokane, I thought you were the most beautiful woman alive," he said. "And I decided I needed you to hate me, so I could never act on those feelings."

  Chapter 19

  She went cold with his words. Needed you to hate me? She didn't understand what that meant.

  The intense embrace they held in the kitchen was shattered by what he said. She wanted more than anything to continue to stand there with him. For him to kiss her and continue to make her feel like the only woman in the world, but she couldn't and it pained her.

  She pulled away from him and tried to speak. His arms slipped to her sides, not letting her get away, but she dropped her hands to her sides, then crossed her arms to push him further away and didn't meet his eyes. She tried to say, I don't know what you're talking about. But all that came out was "I don't." Her mouth remained open, unable to complete her thought.

  Nate took her hand and walked her to the couch in the living room. She readily followed, unsure what was happening. He sat close to her, but facing toward her, giving Amelia all of his attention.

  "I can explain," he said. He reached out to again place that strand of hair behind her ear, but she turned away, visibly telling him that he'd crossed a line. She crossed her arms again and turned away.

  He continued.

  "I cancelled our first meeting together, do you remember that?" he asked.

  She nodded that she did.

  "I got some news that day that hit me hard and I had to stay in Dallas."

  "But you came the next day," she said.

  "Yes, but I wasn't the same person as I had been days before. I was mad at the world. Mad that I was half a country away from my daughter. Mad at myself for wanting to be away from her. I was hiding the news from her."

  "What news?"

  "Cancer."

  Nate explained, with the hindsight of the years that followed, about his cancer. He'd been alerted to the possibility that he had cancer the day he was supposed to fly to Spokane. But he didn't have a full diagnosis until weeks later, after tests and an exploratory surgery. At that point the doctors had removed a tumor on his kidney and started him on chemotherapy.

  As he told the story he instinctively rubbed his chest below his collarbone, the location of the port-a-cath line, where the medicine had been repeatedly introduced to his body.

  "But when I came to Spokane I had received no treatment at all," he said. "So I was angry and in denial. I had no idea what was in store for me. I didn't know if I would be able to watch my daughter grow up. I wasn't in a good place. But I kept the meeting with you, because that was what I was good at. Work. Not life."

  "You should have cancelled," Amelia said. "And stayed home with your daughter."

  "I know that now, but I didn't back then. I needed my life to return to normal. To work 12 hours a day. To lead th
e division. To expand Mr. Z's Toys across the country and to do that, I had to go meet with you. So I did."

  Nate paused and repositioned himself on the couch.

  "And then I met you," he said, almost in a whisper.

  "And I treated you like garbage."

  "Rightfully so," he began. "I had it in my mind to hate that toy store when I walked in. I was directing my terrified feelings about the cancer toward that harmless store. But then I saw you. You really don't know how beautiful you are, do you?"

  Amelia didn't reply and he continued.

  "I was a mess of confusion and so I put up a front. I barked orders and tried everything I could to detach myself from how I felt."

  "How did you feel?" Amelia asked gently.

  "Like I wanted to snap you up out of that store and run away from everything in my life and begin anew. And besides, you were married. I wouldn't do that to a marriage."

  "That's a pretty strong feeling for just meeting me," she said. Amelia was embarrassed by his compliments and desires, but also flattered. Nate didn't know that she and Josh were well on their way to becoming separated at that point.

  "I couldn't act on how I felt," he said. "I wanted so bad to learn everything about you. Simple things like what you ate for breakfast or where you liked to go on the weekends. What your dreams were. What made this gorgeous creature tick? I wanted to know everything. So I made sure I knew nothing."

  "I'm not sure what to say," she said. "I give you credit. You had me fooled. You were a first class jerk. Up until a few weeks ago. But why? You didn't have to be like that."

  "But you see, I did. It's hard to explain."

  "Try," she said softly, holding her hand out to his, which he accepted. They held hands in his lap.

  Nate told her what happened to his wife Stephanie. How they had worked side-by-side for years and their relationship was strong, but focused so intently on work that they couldn't function without it.

  "It just sounds stupid now, but I couldn't imagine having feelings for someone I worked with. But instead of separating out the work part, I distanced myself from those feelings altogether. I was struggling with this diagnosis too and needed to fight it with everything I had."