Illusions: A prequel novella to Mirage (4 page)

***

The coffee shop that Nathan suggested we meet at was only a short walk for me. I’m usually driven around, so the fresh air is a welcome change. Spring is finally here, the winter frost is melting, and the flowers are starting to bloom. I decided that I would dress for the office, even though it’s Saturday. Even I take the weekends off if I can manage it. I paired a white embroidered button-down shirt with slim fitting beige slacks and matching strappy high heel sandals. A jacket and nude bag tie the look together, and I’ve pulled my brown locks back in a tight ponytail.

When I enter the coffee shop, I spot Nathan almost instantly. He’s sitting at a small table for two by the window. He stands when our eyes meet, making me realize just how tall he is. He looks different today, casual in jeans, a gray t-shirt, and black jacket. I like this look on him; it’s not that the suit and tie weren't nice, but this just seems more him.

“Hi,” I greet, startled when he leans in for a hug.

“I’m glad you could make it,” he says as he pulls away. “What can I get for you?”

You, just you.
“Vanilla latte.”

“Okay, have a seat and I’ll be right back.”

I take a seat and watch him stride away seriously liking the view. I don’t normally objectify men, but shit, he makes it difficult. The pinging of my cell phone tears my attention away from my man watching.

Ivy:
Hey Boss, didn’t see you leave last night. Thanks for letting me tag along.

Her text reminds me that she’s the one who gave Nathan my number and we absolutely have to have a conversation about that.

Me:
I left just after ten. Why did you give some random man my phone number???

Ivy:
Nathan??? 1. He’s hot, 2. He likes you and you need to date more, 3. He’s hot!

Me:
We’ll discuss this later… don’t do that again!

Ivy:
Fine. I’ll talk to you later.

“Everything okay?”

I look up just as Nathan places a large coffee in front of me and takes the seat across from mine.

“Yes, fine. Just reminding my assistant of proper behavior.”

“Ahh, don’t be too hard on her. I can be pretty persuasive.” A gleam in his eyes alludes to a hint of mischief and humor. I can tell that those things are part of his personality, and I like it. I like that he can find the humor in things. I wish I could do that more often.

“I can see that.”

“You say it like it’s a bad thing.”

“I’m not sure if it’s good or bad. Why did you want to see me so badly?”

“You make me sound desperate. Can’t a guy dig a girl and ask her out? That is the way it’s done, isn’t it?”

“Is it? I wouldn’t know.”

“What? I’m sure you’ve been asked out before.”

“I guess, not quite as stealthily as you did it.”

“I just thought you were beautiful and I wanted to know more about you. If that makes me look desperate, then so be it.” He looks sincere, but I still don’t buy it. I can’t believe that he would go through this much trouble just to meet a girl.

“What do you want to know?”

“Are you single?”

“Shouldn’t you have found that out before asking me on a date?” I don’t know why I’m acting so coy, but for whatever reason, I find myself dancing around topics of conversation with him. Maybe it’s because the more we reveal about ourselves, the more we may begin to like each other. And deep down, I know that I should just stay away from him.

“Yes, I probably should have. I’m a little rusty.”

“You don’t date often?”

“Are you single?” he presses again, causing me to roll my eyes.

“Yes, I’m single.”

“I don’t date often,” he says, answering my last question. Another smile tugs at my lips. Everything about Nathan is unexpected, but I guess that’s what makes him interesting.

“So, why now?”

“Is this a date?”

“Isn’t it?” I question feeling a little foolish now.

“I hope it is. Anyway, I told you, I think you are beautiful. I know you’re smart, confident, and from what I can see, you don’t take shit from anyone. It’s a nice package.”

“You got all that from a few minutes at a charity event?” I question through narrowed eyes. “How old are you anyway?”

“Thirty-two. How old are you?”

“Too old for you.” I answer sarcastically.

“Don’t do that. I hate when people throw age around like it’s anything more than a number. It really doesn’t matter.”

“I’m thirty-seven,” I tell him, suddenly feeling very over the hill. I smirk, trying to bring humor to his perception of me. Mostly, he’s right, but confidence isn’t something that I was born with. I had to work for that. “Do you live around here?” I ask, never giving him an opportunity to answer my original question. Some things are better left unsaid.

“Not far. I have a place a few blocks away. How ‘bout you? Did I drag you out too far?”

“No, I actually walked here.”

“Have you always lived in New York?”

“I was born and raised in New Jersey. I moved here for college and never left. I love the city. I don’t know if I could ever live anywhere else. What about you?”

“I was born and raised in Michigan, but I moved here for college and stayed.”

“That’s a big move.”

“Yeah, I didn’t think I’d like city life as much as I do, but now that I’m here, I consider it home.”

“It’s an easy city to love.”

He takes a sip of his coffee and nods. “So, tell me more about yourself. What do you do for work?”

There’s the million-dollar question. Mentally, I prepare the frequently used response that I give to everyone who asks about my livelihood. I’ve gotten very good at this, and figuratively speaking, it’s almost true.

“I own a day spa and employ masseuses who specialize in holistic health home visits to mostly elderly or sick clients.”

“Interesting. How did you get into that?”

“Who doesn’t like a good spa, right? I wanted to do it better, bigger, and tap into a niche that really hadn’t been explored.”

“And it’s been successful?”

“Very.”

“That’s great. Entrepreneurship is not for everyone. I’m impressed, Miss Powell.”

“Thanks.”

“So, what are you up to after this?”

“Things…”

“Things? How about something with me?”

“Like what?”

“The sky’s the limit.”

“As appealing as that sounds, I have to decline. I really should get going.”

“So soon?” He eyes me expectantly, maybe hoping that I’d change my mind and spend more time with him. But the more time I spend with him, the more I want to know, and he’s a complication that I don’t need, not ever. I think about my last attempt at a relationship with Collin and about how miserably that ended. I don’t want to go through that again.

“Yes, thank you so much for the coffee and the invitation. It was nice.”

“I’m always nice. Can I at least get you to agree to dinner? How about tomorrow night?”

“I don’t think so.”

“You know, you’re really starting to give me a complex.”

“I just… it’s not you, Nathan, it’s…”

“Please don’t give me the ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ line. Please,” he says with a chuckle.

The damn smile I keep fighting creeps up onto my lips again. “It’s not a line, it’s actually true. I’m a very busy person, you know. I don’t have a ton of time for dating.”

“It’s a good thing I’m not asking for a ton of time then. An occasional meal here or there wouldn’t kill you. In fact, it would probably do you some good.”

This guy just doesn’t give up, but who am I kidding? I’m not so sure I want him to.

“Can I at least think about it?”

“Sure. I’ll walk you out.”

He comes around and pulls out my chair for me. Taking hold of my free hand, he helps me to my feet and leads me out of the coffee shop. My hand in his feels good—

shit, I’m asking for serious trouble with this guy. He’s smooth, sexy, smart, confident, and worst of all, he doesn’t take no for an answer.

“Thanks for the coffee.”

“Anytime. I’ll call you.” I barely have time to react to his lips on my cheek, but if him holding my hand excited me, his lips on my body are on a whole other level.
Seriously in trouble
, I think to myself as I pull away. I give him one last passing glance as I turn and walk away from him, telling myself that this will be the last time I ever see Nathan Lennox.

“Why are you being so stubborn?” Ivy asks with a pout. “Just go out with the hot guy. It’s really a no-brainer.”

This is all I’ve heard from Ivy since telling her what happened when I had coffee with Nathan on Saturday and then how I ignored his phone call on Sunday. I know I’m a chicken shit, and I’m okay with that because, for me, being around Nathan is the equivalent of playing with fire. I scoop out some chicken and broccoli from my pint of Chinese food onto a paper plate before meeting her gaze. Once a week, we have lunch in my office where we spend the better part of an hour gossiping.

“Ivy, look at what I do for a living. How would I explain this to anyone?”

“You say, hey babe, if you ever get sick of sex with me, I can always hook you up with…”

“Do not finish that sentence.” I point my fork at her in warning. “You’re a jerk, you know that?”

She takes a bite of her egg roll and nods. “You do the same thing you’ve always done. You don’t explain it. It’s none of their business. You own a legitimate business, and when the time comes, that’s what you present and that’s what they’ll see.”

“Did anyone ever tell you not to talk with your mouth full?” She sticks her tongue out at me in response, causing me to shake my head at her. This is what our relationship is like. I’m starting to realize that my assistant has no respect for me at all. “Okay, but what if I fall in love with someone, with him, with anyone? Do I really want to lie to the person I love forever? What kind of life is that?”

“So what should you do? Do you stay alone forever?”

“Until I retire?” It sounds more like I’m asking for permission, which is ridiculous. I can make my own decisions about what I do with this little empire I’ve built.

“Are you asking me or telling me?”

“Telling you?”

“Right. So how and when are you planning retirement and what happens to me when you do?”

“Selfish much? I don’t know. It’s not like I need the money at this point. I can live off the spa, and maybe even open a new one. I’d have to find a way to take care of the girls, though.”

“And me.”

“Anyway,” I exaggerate with a roll of my eyes, “I have no timeframe, but it’s not like I ever planned to do this forever. I’m at that age where settling down is a concern.”

“Having kids?”

“Let's not get crazy.” I think about the idea of having a child. It’s not like I don’t like kids; I do well enough with the few that I know. I just never envisioned having any of my own, and now that I’m thirty-seven, I’m not sure if it’s a realistic goal. I don’t even know what I would do with a kid. What would I teach him or her—how to avoid human interaction and live above the law? Perfect role model.

“Okay, well, you obviously have thought of an exit plan, so why not date Nathan while you work on it?”

“Because getting out of this business could take years, Ivy.”

“If you wanted to get out, Victoria, you could do that in a matter of days. It does not take years.”

“I just have to make sure everyone is taken care of when it happens. I don’t want these girls to find themselves in a situation where they could end up with the wrong people.”

“Pimps?”

“Amongst other things, yeah.”

“You can’t save everyone, you know? Some of them will want to keep doing what they’re doing, and they’ll make that happen. You can’t stop that.”

I understand what she’s saying; I understand it all too well, wanting so desperately to save someone who doesn’t want to be saved.

“I can at least give them options.”

“You’re a good person.”

I look away because I can’t bring myself to agree with her. Would a good person break the law? Would a good person own and operate an escort service? Probably not. I do the best I can with what I’ve created, and I have my reasons for why I chose this profession, but none of those things make me a good person. None of those things would make my father proud of me, even if they’ve given me a purpose.

The familiar ping of a text message pulls me from my inner reflection, literally saved by the bell. I glance down at my phone and smile at the name that appears on my caller ID.

Nathan:
You’ve been ignoring me.

I contemplate the statement. Clearly, he has me figured out and he must not really care. I have to give it to him, he’s persistent, and because of that, I give him a small dose of honesty.

Me:
Who me? Why would you say that?

Nathan:
Dinner tonight.

Me:
I don’t think so.

Nathan:
We both need to eat, name the place.

Me:
Okay 7pm Trattoria on Mulberry.

Nathan:
I’ll be there.

“Why are you smiling from ear to ear?” I glance up at Ivy, who’s staring at me with an inquisitive grin on her face. Know-it-all.

“I’m having dinner with Nathan. Happy now?”

“Eek!” I cover my ears to block the shrieking coming from across the room. “I’m so excited; I have a good feeling about him, Victoria.”

I clap my hands over my cheeks sarcastically. “Well, then, let me start working on the guest list for the wedding. Should we book the plaza? How about a Christmas wedding?”

“No one likes a smartass.”

“I can still fire you.”

“I’m going back to my desk.” She gets up and walks to the door, looking back at me to deliver her closing argument. “Just don’t show him the real you right away because you may be too much for him to handle. You have to slowly ease people into your personality—you can be a bit of a bitch at times.”