"Honestly, Natalie, why is it that you care so much?" I snapped. She crossed her arms, and her eyes narrowed.
"You've just gone through a sudden and painful loss. People are going to understand that. Nobody is about to ask for more of you than you can give."
"It all comes right back down to that. Giving. Me giving the next ten, twenty years of my life to this place like my dad and Brett. The difference is, Natalie, that they wanted to do that. I don't. I haven't for a long time. Losing my dad wasn't some sort of a-ha moment."
"Even if that's true, right now, after what has happened, is the worst possible time you could have picked to walk out. There is so much at stake, Cameron, and whether you want to run the company or not, you have to understand that walking out is going to affect hundreds of people." I ran a hand through my hair, which I hadn't even bothered trying to slick down that morning.
"That might be true, but it's not enough, Natalie. Not enough for me to stay here." I turned and started walking again. I heard her follow.
"Wait," she said, catching up. "Can we at least talk about this?"
"I don't know what else there is to discuss."
"First of all, anything you want to do is going to involve the other stockholders," she started, matter-of-factly. "Second, nobody is going to trust a decision you made in the wake of your parents' death."
"Oh, come on."
"Think about it," she insisted. "You said you've wanted this for a long time, but to anybody on the outside looking in, it would seem like the move of a man driven off the edge by grief and wouldn't be taken seriously." I stared at her, into her unblinking icy blue eyes. She was being serious. Much worse, she had a point. I couldn't imagine why she cared so damn much, why she had basically chased me down to get me to listen to her, but here she was, and she was right.
"Shit," I muttered under my breath.
"Do you get it now?" she asked. I did, and I kind of hated her for it. It never ended. Not for me. I didn’t have a clean break from this life, these decisions that had been made for me. The only way out would be painful and drawn out…unless I died in a plane crash too.
"If you're so full of ideas, tell me what I need to do."
"How about we come up with that together," she said. "Will you meet me? Not here. For lunch. Tomorrow."
I sighed, looking at her up and down. She was persistent. She meant to convince me, and failing to do that, she was going to wear me down until I said yes—whatever it would take to get her to leave me alone. I looked at her, really taking in the full package. Her pencil skirt followed the contours of her thin waist and shapely hips down to just below her knees. Her blouse buttoned right up to her throat but didn't completely conceal the evidence of her womanhood. I had never been as pissed off about lunch with an attractive woman as I was at that moment.
"What time?" I asked grudgingly.
"It has to be over my lunch break," she said. What are you doing, Cam?
"Fine. I'll pick you up," I said.
"Thank you. I'm not going to pretend I know what you're going through, but I know talking to me probably isn't something high on your want list." Under different circumstances, she'd be at the top of my want list, but that was neither here nor there.
"Don't be late," I said. I waited until she walked back to the elevators before I walked back out into the chilly morning air.
Chapter Eight
Natalie
My heart is pounding. You're nervous, I realized. Why are you nervous? Stop being nervous.
I could see Cameron. He was just outside the entrance to the building, waiting for me. I wiped my hands on my skirt nervously. They were shaking. Get a hold of yourself, Nat. What the hell? It isn’t like you've never spoken to this guy before.
"Hey," I said, coming out of the building, or tried to say, at least. It came out as more of a weak croaking sound. I cleared my throat.
"Ready?" he asked. He was wearing jeans and a sweater with a jacket over top. His hair was surprisingly wavy, loose curls that covered his nape and the tops of his ears. He looked like a different person out of his work clothes. Almost approachable. I followed him out to his car. He asked me whether I had anywhere specific I wanted to go, but I told him I wasn't picky. Least I could do since I had more or less totally put him out, making him come see me when he was ready to burn it all to the ground.
We ended up taking a five-minute drive to a cafe, still in the downtown area. We rode in silence, which the short length of the trip saved from getting uncomfortably awkward. We were strangers, and that fact had never been clearer. Say something, I thought. But what? I wasn't desperate enough to try mentioning the weather. What the hell did you say to someone who had just lost their parents which wasn't how sorry you felt for them? Nothing. The answer was nothing. Shut up.
The cafe had a long menu. I took my time reading it from the first item to the last like it was the most interesting thing in the world. My stomach was a mess from my nerves; I wasn't even hungry. Oh my god, I thought, catching myself. Honestly, Natalie, you're almost thirty years old. The last time you were this awkward around a guy was... It had been on my first date, ten years ago. Yes, ten years. It took until freshman year of college for me to get a date. It probably would have taken longer if I hadn't grown my hair out and started wearing makeup. To be fair, that had also been the year that I’d started wearing real bras instead of sports bras every day, so maybe that had had something to do with it too.
This isn't a date though, so what's your excuse now?
"See anything you like?" he asked suddenly. I blurted out the first thing I read.