Secret Desires (8 page)

"Natalie, do you want Tahitian vanilla bean or Belgian milk chocolate?" James called out from the kitchen.

Do you love him?

"Nat?" The gentle pressure of his hand on her shoulder snapped her out of the fog of her own mind. "You okay?"

Every blink of her eyes was like a camera lens coming into focus. She took a deep breath and tried for a smile. The last thing she wanted was for him to think something was wrong. That would cause concern. Concern would lead to questions; questions to answers.

"Yeah. Um, Belgian milk chocolate please."

"I thought you'd say that." He smiled and handed her a small bowl filled with two heaping scoops of gourmet chocolate ice cream. He sat down next to her on his own makeshift seat made of pillows and blankets, a second bowl of ice cream in his hand.

Frankie came bundling into the room with her own bowl and bounced onto the couch. She turned on the large flat panel TV mounted to the wall across from them and channel surfed until she found a documentary on Ancient Egypt and settled in.

"So how was work tonight?" James asked between spoonfuls of dessert.

Natalie had all but forgotten about Joe, dinner and their upcoming trip. "It was good," she responded, wondering how much she could - or rather
should
- disclose to him. She had no reason to keep any part of the truth hidden from him, but had a feeling that he wouldn't appreciate her going to Arrowhead for the weekend for work, let alone with a
male
coworker. "The guy that transferred here from San Francisco with Ivy, Joe, has asked me to help bring in a new account."

"What's the account?" he asked.

"Uh," she wanted to blush, to laugh at the absurdity of what she was about to say, but she couldn’t muster the humor. "It's an all male revue. In Vegas."

"
Really
," he laughed. "Chippendales?"

"No." She shook her head and took another bite of ice cream. "
The Gentleman's Show
."

James' lips curled into a devilish smile. "That's quite a name. Quite a
familiar
name actually."

"Except in this case I'm pretty sure it's the
Gentlemen
being objectified." She shrugged at his pointed gaze. "You know what I mean." She turned her attention back to her ice cream but could still feel his gaze on her, turning the hairs on the back of her neck on end. She glanced his way but couldn't meet his eyes. "What?"

Do you love him?

"Nothing. You just seem... different is all."

She tried for a smile but it barely even touched her eyes. "It's just work stress." It wasn't untrue no matter how she quantified it. Work was stressful because she was dating a client. Because she was removed from that client's account. Because any day someone could find out about dating said client and she would be fired. Work was stressful because she was asked to help on an account that she, for whatever reason, felt James wouldn't like. Because of Arrowhead. "Maybe one day I'll have enough vacation time earned to take a week off and just rest."

James perked up at that. "Or even go on an actual vacation?"

"Maybe. I think I'd settle for a day at the beach right about now."

He set his empty bowl at his side and reached for Natalie, wrapping his arms around her waist. As he pulled her in close she sighed and tried to let her body relax, but she was too wound up, and the cramp in her stomach twisted again nearly to the point of pain. The rich, enticing scent of his cologne drifted through her senses as he kissed at her temple, his hands sweeping in a gentle rhythm at her side.

The words '
DO YOU LOVE HIM?'
were trumpeting in her mind in bright neon colors. She tried to attune her ears to the sound of the Englishman narrating about the so-called curse of the mummy on the television, but it did little to distract her.

James' kisses moved from her temple to her cheek and into the small dip of space just outside of her ear. In that close proximity she could hear the faintest detail of his breathing, the measured intake of oxygen and release of carbon dioxide seemed to match the growing intensity of her beating heart.

"Can I persuade you to stay the night with me?" he whispered.

Natalie turned to look at him.
Really
look at him. It was as though she were remembering a familiar face all over again. His blue-green eyes had the illusion of being so convex that they were like marbles. The ridge of his brows dominated over his eyes, lending him that quality of being perennially intense in thought or scrutiny. Dim lighting burrowed into the slight hollows of his face, highlighting soft but high cheekbones, and she could see clearly the minor aquiline tip of his nose. A smattering of hair grew beneath his cheeks and around his jaw line up to below the lips that she had tasted of countless times before. He was the kind of handsome that was uncomfortable to stare at for too long, and yet she could not will her eyes away from him. He closed his parted lips and a moment later his Adam's apple lifted up and came back down again as he swallowed. Her breath picked up when his lips parted again and his tongue rolled across to quickly wet them.

"There's something I've been meaning to tell you," he whispered so softly she could barely hear him.

Her heart raced as though it already knew even if her brain was still catching up. She leaned to kiss him but stopped just close enough to feel his warm breath on her lips. Her eyes closed shut, her teeth biting down on her bottom lip to keep them in place. Before she could open her eyes again the doorbell rang, and it was as if even the universe itself was trying to stop her. When her eyes did open, they found his blue-green on hers as though he were having a sudden realization of his own. The look was gone with an exhale of breath, the action seemingly snapping him out of the moment.

"That would be Celine."

When he unwrapped himself from her body and stood it was as if someone had removed a warm blanket, leaving her body cold. As James headed for the door Natalie looked back at Frankie, found her to still be in her own world of absorbing every bit of new information like a sponge, and took it upon herself to pick up the discarded bowls of ice cream and take them into the kitchen.

She heard Celine enter, and looked up only when the woman's expensive Burberry trench coat came into her peripheral vision. Her hair was slicked back into what Natalie now imagined was her every day style of a chic blonde chignon. She couldn’t be any less upper crust and WASP-y even in the middle of Los Angeles. Why the woman needed a trench coat in the peak of summer during a drought was beyond Natalie's comprehension.

"She's in the middle of a documentary," James explained to Celine on behalf of Frankie.

Celine, having only apparently just noticed Natalie when she turned on the faucet to wash out the dishes, offered a polite but curt smile. She gave a '
hello'
so quick and faint that it might as well have not happened to begin with.

James gestured towards the kitchen and asked, "Can I get you anything? Water? Ice cream?" There was a slight edge to his voice, but it made little impact on his otherwise polite offer.

"No, thank you," she declined, putting a hand over her stomach. "I'm absolutely stuffed from dinner. Audra insisted on going to Kate Mantilini. Remember that place?"

Natalie looked up with sudden interest at the restaurant name. Kate Mantilini was the restaurant she and Joe had dined at.

James crossed his arms over his chest. "You had dinner with Audra? I thought you had a meeting with Tate?"

"Audra called last minute wanting to discuss some family business. I rescheduled with Tate."

Natalie finished fussing with the dishes and dried her hands off on a towel before slowly making her way towards the couple. It was strange seeing them together, so up close and personal. In one respect they looked like a total mismatch, and in another she could see the appeal: young, wealthy businessman with his beautiful blonde wife in their probably large home in New York. That picture made sense. The James she knew, however, was not such a cliché.

And in any event it didn't matter. Not more than an hour or two earlier she and Celine Robertson-Fitzgerald were dining in the same restaurant and, inexplicably, neither one of them saw the other.

"Did you guys have fun?" she asked, casually glancing in Natalie's direction before surveying the mock planetarium that had been setup by James and Frankie.

"Hi Mommy!" Frankie called from the couch once a commercial break interrupted her Egyptian tutelage. As the two reacquainted themselves James reached out a hand for Natalie while pulling out a chair at the dining room table with his other. She joined at his side, sitting at the table and feeling incredibly awkward as she did so. James seemed visibly relaxed but she could sense the undercurrent of impatience running through him.

"So," Celine began again once Frankie's attention was turned back to her documentary. She glanced from James to Natalie and back again. She stood awkwardly before them at the dining table, holding a sleek clutch underneath her arm. "Looks like the three of you had a nice evening."

"Actually," Natalie spoke before James had the chance to, "I only just arrived a short while ago."

"Frankie invited Natalie over for ice cream," James interjected, picking up the conversation. "She felt bad that Natalie had to work so late."

"Oh?" Celine asked, expressing the smallest measurement of socially acceptable interest. She fidgeted with the ends of the belt tied chicly at her waistline.

"Well she needn't have felt too bad. It was just a dinner meeting. In fact I was at the same restaurant as you. Kate Mantilini," she said, watching for Celine's reaction. There was only the faintest glimmer of
something
- acknowledgement perhaps. She glanced to her daughter and the television, and finally to a thin gold watch at her left wrist.

"So Audra says business is good." Celine spoke as if James was the only adult in the room. "She mentioned Ivy Whitcomb is in town?"

Natalie barely suppressed the urge to groan and roll her eyes. Of
course
Celine and Ivy were acquainted. Why she even bothered to be the least bit surprised was almost as annoying as the knowledge that Ivy Whitcomb had a foothold into the entirely other world occupied by people like James and Audra at all.

"She is," James sighed. He side-glanced at Natalie and offered her a brief smile.

"I always liked her. She'll be a great asset to the company. Again."

Natalie didn't care to hear another word about Ivy Whitcomb, especially from the lips of Celine Robertson-Fitzgerald. She stood and offered a brief '
excuse me'
before briskly making her way to the bathroom. Once the door was closed behind her she let her eyes roll to the heavens so forcefully it nearly hurt.

She was trapped inside a penthouse filled with lovers - both ex and current - and women who deployed words in such a calculated fashion it baffled the mind.

Natalie consulted her reflection in the mirror and said a silent
thank you
to the universe for still looking put-together after such a long day. She turned her head to the side to examine the profile of her face and copper hair. She may have lacked Celine's poise and inherent grace, but those qualities came at the expense of her warmth while, Natalie felt she still had hers. And in any event it did her no good to even begin to compare herself to the soon-to-be-former Mrs. Robertson-Fitzgerald. Natalie was her own person, no matter how much of an interloper she felt with the three of them in the next room. Worrying about Celine was fruitless, and she had enough drama in her own relationship with James to concern herself with.

She could tolerate Celine and her coldness. After all it was Natalie with whom James had chosen to be with, and regardless of the uncertainties that circled in her mind about the relationship she wouldn't give Celine the satisfaction of being in any way put out by her mere presence alone.

Natalie exited the bathroom with her head held high and confidence in her chest. Soon Celine would take Frankie and return to their own hotel, and Natalie and James could be alone to-

She came to a dead stop just inside the living area. All of a sudden she felt as though the universe had answered a question she hadn't yet asked. Her eyes locked on Celine as she quietly slipped the Burberry trench off her shoulders and revealed a dress underneath in vibrant shades of tangerine and sherbet pink.

Fragments of conversations echoed in Natalie's mind one at a time until they started to overlap, and soon became an incoherent jumble of evidence that needed to be pieced back together.

Celine was Joe's mystery ex from dinner, the woman in the tangerine and sherbet pink dress.

'She's having a baby, apparently.'

'Sometimes when my dad visits he sleeps over.'

'There's something I've been meaning to tell you.'

"Nat, are you okay?" James called out from across the room.

She was looking for the most obvious clue on Celine herself. The dress draped over her slender frame but did little to de-emphasize the slight curve of her belly. How pregnant did a woman have to be before she began showing? Three months? Four months?

Natalie did the math; if Celine was three or four months pregnant that would mean it happened before Vegas, before Natalie and James began seeing each other on a regular basis.

Her stomach roiled.

"Natalie?"

She inhaled with the hope of pushing down the acute wave of nausea that suddenly plagued her. She forced a smile at James, who was making his way across the room to her with a look of concern on his face.

"I'm fine," she said. "Just a bit of indigestion."

"Do you have any calcium carbonate?" asked Frankie from the couch. Natalie and James turned their heads to look at her. "It's used in antacid pills," she qualified.

"Thanks," Natalie said with a small smile. She bypassed James and headed to her purse on the dining table, ignoring Celine who was only a few feet away. She dug through her purse and only half listened as Celine encouraged Frankie to gather her belongings so they could leave. Perhaps Celine was as uncomfortable being there as Natalie was.

She popped a couple antacid pills in her mouth and chewed slowly, knowing that the problem wasn't acid in her stomach, but the revelation of truth.

What am I going to do?

What was all the drama about Natalie quitting her job worth if James was just going to admit that he had slept with Celine and gotten her pregnant? Did she even have the right to be upset about that? They
were
married, after all. And if Celine was far enough along to show then the deed clearly happened before James and Natalie began seeing each other.

It was all becoming crystal clear. He'd been behaving strangely since Celine first came to town. The constant silent looks, the almost would-be confessions. Fights over their relationship. James' look of utter surprise when she showed up at his hotel room unannounced mere moments after Celine had left. Celine's smug face when she returned for her cell phone and introduced herself as
his wife
. The fact that there had been very little mention at all of the divorce proceedings.

The gifts.
Of course
, she sighed. The figurative olive branch in the form of the gold cuff that resembled actual olive leaves.
Stupid!
she chided herself. The signs had been there all along. How could she have missed them?

She opened her hand to let the antacid pills fall back into her purse, and with the other hand she grabbed her cell phone and texted a quick message to Quinn.

'SOS. Jacqueline Hotel. Penthouse.'

When the message sent she grasped the phone tightly in her hand and turned just in time to see Frankie approaching her, iPad tucked studiously under her arm.

"It was nice meeting you," the girl said with a smile.

Natalie's lip quivered. Her nose pinched from the inside. Her dry eyes stung with sudden moisture. She crouched down on her knees until she was at equal height with the girl.

"It was very nice meeting
you
, Frankie. Let me know if your neighbor sprouts antennae, okay?"

Frankie laughed good-naturedly. "I will. See you later!"

Feeling suddenly compelled, Natalie leaned forward and hugged Frankie, careful not to hold her too tight or for too long. The girl didn't seem to mind, nor did she protest. It didn't last long, and as soon as she pulled back Natalie stood tall on her feet. "Goodbye."

She then turned to Celine and offered her hand. The woman seemed nonplussed by the action, but the smallest arch of her brow gave away her cautious surprise. She reached out her right hand, a solitaire diamond ring glinting beneath the chandeliered lighting, and shook Natalie's outstretched hand.

"Congratulations," Natalie whispered. When Celine's face registered only confusion Natalie glanced down at her subtle baby bump and then back up at her face. Celine understood her immediately. She glanced briefly to James before dropping her hand and reaching it out instead to Frankie.

"Come on, honey."

"Bye Dad. Bye Natalie," Frankie waved as her mother opened the front door. As soon as they were gone Natalie checked her phone screen.

'Quinn: On my way.'

She set the phone down on the table next to her purse. She felt James from behind, stiffened when his fingertips grazed against the back of her neck as he gathered her hair and swept it over one shoulder. Her eyes closed as he kissed her exposed skin and soothed his hands over her hips and across her stomach.

"I'm sorry you're not feeling well. Is there anything I can do?"

"I'll be fine," she replied. She closed her eyes and cherished the feel of him touching her, committing it to memory as though it was for the last time.

It very well could have been the last time.

"James?"

"Yeah?" he asked between kisses at her neck and shoulder.

Here we go
, she thought to herself. She lifted his hands from her waist as she turned, then took a side-step so she was no longer sandwiched between him and the table.

"You said there was something you wanted to tell me."
Whatever you do, Natalie Harlow, do not cry.
She watched James' somber face while trying to hold back the tears that had formed in the ducts of her eyes.

"There is."

This is it
. She searched his eyes, though for what she was unsure. She wasn't absent of any clue that would make the picture of her reality any less damning.

"I already know what it is."

James' eyes widened fractionally. "You do?"

She nodded. "It all seems so obvious now that I don't even know why I should be surprised at all."

"You're...
surprised
?" His brows wrinkled above his eyes, creasing the skin atop the bridge of his nose.

She burrowed her hands into her arms as they crossed her chest. "You must have thought the same as I did, that we would never see each other again. I mean it obviously happened before Vegas and therefore before we started seeing each other, so it's not like you cheated on me, or anything. And even if we were together it's not like it would have mattered to you. You once told me that you didn't consider that night with me at the auction cheating on your wife because as far as you were concerned your marriage was over."

"Wait, wait," he said. His feet shuffled against the ground until they were shoulder-distance apart, expanding his stance. "What the hell are you talking about?"

The sound of confusion and irritation in his voice inexplicably made her mad. He wouldn't dare get indignant about the fact that she found out the truth before he could give it to her, would he?

"I'm talking about you and Celine!" she said, voice raised and on the verge of shouting. "That even after everything she did to you and the fact you were getting a divorce you
slept with her
!" She had to breathe deeply to replenish her wanting lungs. Her face was warm with the heat of anger that only just began to bubble to the surface. "And not only that, but you then had the audacity to suggest, not once but twice, that I quit my job so that we wouldn’t have to see each other on the down low. You sent expensive gifts to my office. You had me meet your daughter! Did you think all of that would somehow soften the blow of telling me that Celine is pregnant?"

The blood drained from James' face until he was pale, on the verge of ashen. "How-"

"
How?!
" she shouted incredulously, suddenly infuriated. "All I'm interested in right now is
when
. When were you going to tell me, James? Or were you just going to wait for me to fall in love with you
and then
tell me?"

He had the look of someone who had just been slapped hard across the face unexpectedly. She couldn't stand to look at him any longer, let alone be around him. She grabbed her phone and purse and turned for the front door, hoping he wouldn’t follow her so she could wait alone in the lobby for Quinn to come get her.

"Natalie-"

"No!"

James' hand went around her arm like a vice, forcing her to come to a sudden stop. She tried shrugging him off but his grip only tightened. He pulled her until she was nearly flush against him.

"Let go of me," she warned, her eyes focused on the ground before her. His hold on her lessened considerably, but he didn't let go completely.

"Natalie, I love you. Look at me." Her stomach dropped as if she'd been pushed and was free falling. He put his hands on either side of her face and lifted until she could literally look no place else but at him. "I don't know anything about Celine being pregnant." His voice was low, desperate. "And even if she is I don't give a fuck because the
only
thing I've been trying to tell you is that I love you."

She was too warm for comfort, her face set ablaze. Even her head pounded. Her stomach roiled again as another wave of anxiety-induced nausea swelled in her insides. She pushed his hands off of her face just in time to double over and vomit all over the thick, plush carpeting of the penthouse floor.

He tried to gather her hair at her neck to keep it from getting in the way but she pushed him away. She noticed with disdain that his shoes and pants had splatters of sick on them. When she was stable enough she stood and tried to wipe at the corners of her mouth.

"How could you not care if she's pregnant? That's your child!"

"I don't know that! I don't know that she hasn't been sleeping with someone else all these months!" He tried approaching her again but stopped when she held out a firm arm to stop him.

"You can't even deny that you had sex with her! That woman cheated on you, lied about it, and made you believe you were the father of that beautiful little girl
for years
! It's the whole reason you wanted to divorce her and yet you still found a reason to have sex with her
again
?! What the fuck is the matter with you?"

"
What the fuck is the matter with me?
" he asked warily. "After the night of the auction all I could think about was you and the mistake I made in letting you go! I was lonely! What the fuck was I supposed to do?"

"How about
not
sleeping with the woman who broke your goddamn heart?!" she snapped. "Why not sleep with literally
anyone else in the world
?"

"She and I have history. I loved her for nearly a third of my life."

Oh, no you did not!
"Do you have any idea how insulting it is for you to stand there and tell me you slept with her because all you could think about was me? That you could have sex with a woman you'd rather divorce than stay with?"

"What am I supposed to say, Natalie? That I'm sorry? That I was in New York visiting my daughter - who I missed like fucking crazy - and that the loneliness had just become too much? That in one moment I let myself fall back into a familiar pattern with a woman I once believed was the love of my life?"

Natalie's lip trembled. How could she possibly know that she wouldn't have done the same if she were in that very situation? How could she judge someone for behaving in an entirely human way? Not that that made the truth any less unbearable to hear.

"I don't know," she whispered as she looked away, feeling defeated. There was no ideal outcome or winning scenario as far as she could see.

'It was a mistake," he began again. "One I wish I had never made but I did and I can't take it back." He closed the space between them but didn't try to touch her. "What isn't a mistake is how I feel about you, Natalie, and I'd bet every single dollar I've ever made that you love me, too."

A loud knock punctuated the silence between Natalie and James, and she knew it was Quinn. Without even looking at him Natalie went to the front door and opened it, ushering in a suspicious-looking Quinn. Her hazel eyes went from Natalie to James, to the floor and back to the two of them again.

"I'm guessing this isn't some kind of party," she said with cautious humor. "You okay, Red?"

"Can you take me home?"

"Of course, babe." Quinn glanced briefly at James before watching her friend.

Natalie bent to pick up her belongings from the floor while trying to avoid the mess. Under any other circumstance she would have considered it extraordinarily rude not to offer to clean up the mess she had made, but she wasn't in an ordinary situation.

"Natalie-" James began again, but stopped when she looked up at him. If her facial expression was any indication of how she felt, he knew better than to try to say anything more.

She didn't look back or say another word as she walked to the door, Quinn by her side.

As soon as she was in the hallway with the double doors closed behind her the tears began in a torrent down her cheeks. Quinn wordlessly took Natalie's bag in one arm and wrapped the other around her waist.

"You look like hell. I'm taking you to see a doctor."

"No, I'm fine," Natalie protested through heaping sobs."

"You vomited all over the man, Red. That's not 'fine'."

"It was just nerves, believe me. I'm fine."

"Yeah, I'm going to overrule you on this one, Nat. At the very least you can get something to help calm you for the night."

Natalie thought it best not to protest. "May I please crash at your place?" She didn't want to risk the chance that James might come by, and she didn't trust herself to have the strength to turn him away.

"Of course."