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Unbidden Love (Book Five of the Bidden Series) Page 8
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“Quite possibly. What do you think she’s guarding?” Doctor Brown asked.
Natalie knew the answer, but considered the question anyway. “The same thing anyone else in a relationship is guarding. Her heart.”
“Are you guarding yours with her?”
Natalie took a moment to really think about the question. Was she guarding her heart with Audra? By her own admission she should have been, but the answer felt too easy.
“That’s just the thing. James was the first person I ever fell in love with, and had things not escalated so quickly, I think we would probably still be together. But things did escalate. Maybe it was the nature of our relationship, but I found I just could not handle so much at once. He overwhelmed me. Audra doesn’t overwhelm me. There is not this urgency with her, and I feel like our relationship can be a slow burn rather than an immediate, all-consuming love. I feel love for her, but a lot of my heart still belongs to James.”
There was a long moment of silence as the words hung in the air between them. Natalie was not sure if therapy with the doctor was helping. Granted it had only been two sessions, but she had hoped for at least some modicum of clarity, and they had not even really gotten to the recurring dream yet. There was, however, the faintest breath of relief at taking so much of what had previously been internalized and speaking it aloud. What did she want more of? Clarity or relief?
“Natalie before we say goodbye today I want to quickly touch on what Celine said to you in the dream. Now, you are a smart, educated woman, and you seem to have a fairly rational perspective on what is obviously a very complicated and interconnected relationship.”
Natalie was not sure if she should thank the doctor, or agree with her.
“So I do not believe you will take offense when I tell you that your dream does not need decoding or explication. Your brain is already figuring out for you what your heart is feeling. That you love both James and Audra, and you do not want to hurt either one of them. Hence their interchanging roles.”
“And Celine calling me a slut?”
“She is only a version of Celine as you perceive her. The choice of word indicates to me a conflict, or an indictment of your character. You are projecting the fear that what your heart feels for two people is somehow wrong, that you can only give your heart to one person. There is never truly a right or wrong answer when it comes to those we love. You say that the love you felt with James was overwhelming, so it would stand to reason that that love would linger, or possibly never dissipate. Likewise with Audra, you have been building different kinds of relationships with her, from professional, to personal, and now romantic. Any reasonable person might find it difficult to reconcile their feelings for one person when their feelings for another still persist. ”
“So…” Natalie began uncertainly, “You think this is all because I am conflicted?”
“And understandably so. You are looking for an answer to a question you haven’t quite figured out how to ask yet. Or, alternately, a question you might be too afraid to ask yourself.”
Outside of the protective confines of Doctor Brown’s office, Natalie wasn’t sure she felt much better after all as she headed home. Sure, there was a catharsis to talking about the dream and her relationships with James and Audra, but what could Doctor Brown offer her that her own best friend could not? At least Quinn didn’t subscribe to the school of And How Does That Make You Feel? Maybe an objective outsider was not the best person to help Natalie. Quinn was never so ambiguous with her help or advice, and she would certainly never imply that Natalie had some sort of internalized misogyny or self-hatred about her sexual proclivities. She did not care so much that Celine called her a slut - even if it was just a dream - as much as she was disturbed that Celine showed up in the dream at all.
Back at the home-slash-office, things were pretty quiet. Amelia was glued to her laptop at the dining table with Joe and Quinn, while Shane was camped out with his laptop on the couch with a small handful of interns.
“Hey Nat,” Joe called out. “You are just in time. Come take a look at what I found for office space possibilities.”
Since being hired by Audra and James to manage all of the Fitson accounts, Natalie and Joe have watched their business grow from a tiny start-up to a proper agency, albeit a cramped one. Where the high-rise condominium once served as the perfect space to act as both home and base of operations, the addition of several employees and nearly twice as many interns had made the home office feel anything but welcoming.
A few weeks earlier Joe pitched Natalie the idea of moving their base of operations to a proper office building. She got the sense that with it came a friendly eviction as well. Not that she blamed him - sharing a living space between them and Quinn had its moments, but more and more it was becoming evident that Joe wanted things to change, especially since his relationship with Frankie was improving. Now with Frankie moving back to California permanently, he would have a chance to see her far more often. She could not blame him for wanting to create a welcoming space that didn’t involve makeshift desks and hipster interns.
Natalie leaned over from behind Joe’s shoulder to look at the office space listings he had pulled up.
“I think this one is the best option,” he said as he switched browser tabs. The skyscraper was elegant, and very familiar looking.
“Isn’t that-“
“The Fitson offices?” he answered for her. “Yes. The fourth floor is available to rent. It is large enough to accommodate our entire staff with room to grow. We could have clients check in at our very own reception space rather than in our foyer.”
The idea had merit. They could hire an actual receptionist to receive guests, rather than leaving the job to Shane or Amelia. “It is a great location, and all of our employees are familiar with it,” she conceded.
“There is the obvious cost of furnishing the space outright for our use, but I will not have an idea as to cost until we take a tour next week.”
“Next week? Did you schedule it already?”
Joe glanced up at her for the first time since she arrived, and said, “I assumed you would be on board with it.”
“It is definitely worth looking into. Amelia,” Natalie called, turning to her assistant, “could you please find some catalogues for suppliers of office furniture? We cannot put our Ikea furniture in that building.”
“I am one step ahead of you!” the young girl proudly announced as she grabbed for a stack of what looked like magazines in the center of the table. “I took the liberty when you mentioned it as a possibility a few weeks ago.”
Before Natalie could thank her, Amelia excused herself to take a call on the office line. Natalie took a seat between Quinn and Joe and started flipping through the glossy catalogues.
“I still have the paint swatches from when we moved in here,” Quinn announced in Joe’s direction. Natalie bit her lip to keep from laughing. The war over how to decorate their home office when they first moved into the penthouse was notorious. She still regretted not being in the office the day Joe pinned something with an armadillo head to Quinn’s carefully curated Pinterest board.
“Ugh,” he groaned. “That can be your project. God knows if I tried to help you would just tell me I was wrong anyway.”
Natalie glanced up at them as they continued their feud, a smile finally splitting her face. They were without a doubt the most interesting people to work with. She could not imagine partnering with anyone else and having half as much fun as they did.
Amelia caught Natalie’s attention then, a concerned look marring her pretty face. She held the phone to her chest and leaned down to whisper in Natalie’s ear.
“Miss Harlow, they need you to come downstairs to sign for a delivery.”
“Just have it sent up. I will sign for it.”
“Well that’s the thing. The item being delivered… it cannot be brought upstairs.”
Natalie’s face scrunched in confusion. “Like, at all? What is it?”
>
“They would not identify the item being delivered, except to say that you need to be present with photo identification to sign for the insurance.”
“What?!” Natalie caught Joe and Quinn’s suddenly curious glances at her as she stood and made for the doorway.
“What is going on?” Quinn called as she followed, Joe right behind her.
“I am not sure. Amelia says there is a delivery I have to be present to sign for. Joe we are not expecting anything that requires an insurance policy, are we?”
“Of course not.”
The three of them plus Amelia piled into the elevator and descended down to the lobby, whispering their guesses as to what the item being delivered was.
“Did they happen to mention who the delivery is from?” Quinn asked Amelia.
“No, Miss Potter. Just that it was for Natalie.”
“Not Gallo Harlow and Associates?” Joe asked.
Amelia shook her head.
The murmurs of a gathered crowd greeted the four as the elevator opened onto the ground level of the building. The valet, doorman, and receptionist were congregated together along with a handful of men in plain black suits, each of them looking to another suited man in particular with rapt attention.
“Miss Harlow!” the receptionist called out upon seeing Natalie. “There she is.”
The head suit turned and offered Natalie an immediate smile. “Natalie Harlow, I presume?” he greeted her with a firm handshake. He had a very pronounced English accent that made him sound as though he were the King of England.
“Yes. Though I understand you require identification to prove that?”
The man’s smile grew, his bright white teeth practically glowing. “For insurance purposes yes. However I have no doubt in mind you are the woman I am looking for. My name is Thomas Bowles. I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Harlow.”
“This is quite a lot of pomp and circumstance for a package delivery, Thomas.”
“A package! My goodness, if only!” His laugh was almost cartoonishly British, and for a moment she contemplated the thought that maybe there was some kind of joke at play. “I am afraid the pomp and circumstance is not only appropriate but necessary, and quite frankly pales in comparison to the package being delivered.”
“Um, Nat?” Quinn said from just behind where Natalie stood with Thomas Bowles. “I think you are going to want to have a seat.”
“What is it-“ The words got stuck in Natalie’s throat before she could even finish the sentence as she saw the package being delivered.
“My dear Miss Harlow,” Thomas began in reverent tones, “may I present to you the special edition Bugatti Veyron Bleu Centenaire. Compliments of Mister James Fitzgerald.”
Natalie’s heart nearly stopped beating.
“I have procured many rare cars for collectors over the years, but I can honestly say I have never once seen a man spend a million dollars just to tell a woman that he loves her.”
Two large tears fell from Natalie’s eyes as she took in the sight before her. “This is not a million dollar I-love-you, Mister Bowles. This is a million dollar Fuck-you.”
CHAPTER NINE
Natalie stared at the supercar in stunned silence. The car itself was gorgeous - an all blue body with a two-tone finish in both matte and gloss with a pristine cream colored leather interior.
Quinn’s hand covered her mouth as she gasped. “Oh my God, Natalie. Is this-“
“Uh-huh.”
“From him?”
“Yep.”
“What is going on?” Joe asked.
“James Fitzgerald just submitted his nomination for the award of Actual Worst Ex-Boyfriend,” Quinn said, barely-constrained outrage in every syllable.
“This is from James?” Joe gasped.
“I beg your pardon,” Thomas Bowles interrupted, “but did you say ‘million dollar fuck you’?”
“A million dollars?” Quinn and Joe gasped at the same time.
Natalie turned to her two gobsmacked friends with pleading eyes. “Can you guys go upstairs, please? I will handle this… situation.”
Joe took Natalie by the crook of her arm and led her away from the commotion the Bugatti was creating. His warm eyes were brimming with concern. “Does this have anything to do with that bet he made you? About forgiving you?”
“Let’s talk about it later. Please just go upstairs. I do not want this to disrupt our day any more than it already has.”
Joe searched her eyes before pulling her into his arms, embracing her in a protective hug. “I have never liked Fitzgerald, but this is a dick move I did not think he was capable of.” He kissed at her forehead before releasing her from his arms. “You deserve better than this, Red.”
“Yeah, I do.” Natalie turned her attention back to Thomas Bowles as Joe, Quinn, and Amelia retreated for the elevator. The British man’s once bright face was now cast with doubt. Clearly he had no idea of the true meaning behind the gift. “What do you need me to sign?”
Once her signature had dried on the paperwork confirming transfer of ownership and an insurance agreement, Thomas placed the car’s key fob in her palm and sullenly wished her a good rest of her day. She was left to contend with the building manager, who agreed to temporarily rent her a private parking stall reserved for tenants who required extra protection for their fancy cars. She was going to have to figure out other arrangements.
“On second thought-“ she called out to the valet she had given the key fob to.
James was bereft of any sense of finality when he stepped onto the plane departing from New York that morning. Disembarking many hours later onto Santa Barbara soil, however, had the desired effect. Everything from the temperate weather to the ocean-laced breeze that swayed through the palm trees and flowering bougainvillea set him immediately at ease. He was eager to finally call the estate in Montecito his home, having never truly had one of his own before. Neither New York nor Los Angeles felt like home, not even when every stop in between was spent living out of a suitcase in a hotel room. At 34 years old he finally had almost everything he ever wanted.
“Frankie did you grab all of your things from the plane?” James asked as he checked his phone for any missed messages.
“Everything but my suitcase!” she beamed as she bounced around his feet. Being cooped up in a plane all day made her restless. “Can we go to the beach, Daddy?”
“We can go to the beach tomorrow, Frankie,” Celine promised as she held baby Colin in her arms.
James crouched down to Frankie’s height and ran his fingers through her unruly hair. “There will be plenty of time for the beach, Buddy. I promise.”
“Can we at least go swimming?” she asked as she swatted his hand away from her head before he could make her hair even more tangled than it already was.
“Did you pack a swimsuit in your suitcase?”
Frankie nodded enthusiastically. “Yes.”
“Then we can go swimming.”
It was chaos, but with the help of the pilot, the flight attendant, and their driver, they transferred their travel items from the plane to the rented Range Rover and were quickly on their way towards their new home, and their fresh beginning.
“I am so tired,” Celine sighed as her head fell back against her seat. James offered her a kind smile before returning to his phone to glance through his email. “Caroline and I have a bet going about you.”
“Oh?”
“About how long we think it will be before you are off of leave and back at work.”
James looked up at Celine, phone still in hand. “Is that so? What’s your guess?”
“A week. Though I am starting to wonder if you ever truly went on leave to begin with.” She cast her eyes down at the phone for emphasis, and James hastily stuffed it back into his pocket.
“I have worked almost every day for the past ten years. Some habits are harder to break than others.” You of all people should know that, he added in his mind. The unkind thou
ght did not surprise him, but he immediately regretted it anyway. He was reminded of her infidelity every day, especially when he looked at Frankie’s beautiful face. Thankfully he reserved all of his anger about Frankie’s paternity for Celine exclusively. Biology could never change that Frankie was his daughter.
“Try not to make Sunday with your father and my sister all about work, please. We are supposed to be having a relaxing change of lifestyle. Promise me you will try?”
James glanced at Frankie, who had fallen asleep the moment the car left the airport. This move was for her and Colin. Montecito was a fresh start for them as a family, a chance to be together under one roof for every birthday, holiday, and moment in between. The alternative - seeing Frankie on a set schedule and not whenever he wanted - was no longer acceptable for him. “I will try,” he conceded.
Celine laced her fingers in his hand and smiled, exhaustion crinkling her eyes. “Good.”
Conversation lapsed into a more casual discussion of where to go to dinner that evening, and before he knew it they were pulling into the long entryway of Villa Montecito. The idea of home was finally starting to hit him.
“James, are you expecting company?”
“No?” He glanced up in the direction she was looking, his eyes growing wide at the sight of a blue Bugatti Veyron parked in front of the house.
Any other day, Natalie might have expected her resolve to weaken on the drive from Los Angeles to Montecito. But something in the way the car moved at the will of her foot on the accelerator made her resolve stronger. Even in the afternoon traffic, drivers parted to let her pass, if only to get a closer look at the stunning and rare Bugatti. Once the Pacific ocean greeted her from the West in Ventura she picked up speed, easily outpacing every car she passed, and blessedly avoiding any Highway Patrol. When she arrived at Villa Montecito she checked the time display against Alice’s message detailing James and Celine’s travel itinerary. She did not have to wait long before she spotted the black Range Rover pulling up behind her in the driveway, and by then her resolve was stone.