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“Do I?” I answered, feeling uneasy.
“You hook up with men but never allow a relationship to form, so it’s easy to move on to the next with no guilt. This time, it’s different. If you go running off and sleeping with a man to cover your problems with Spencer, you’ll hurt him even more and brutally hurt yourself. I can see a look in your eye when you speak the man’s name, and I know he’s different for you. You actually feel something for him. You will hate yourself if you hook up with the other guy.”
“What if I just end things, then?”
“That’s different. If you end things, then fine. Go and do whatever you want to do. You’re a grown woman. I can only advise you.”
“And how would you advise me?”
“To stop allowing this stuff to drown you. You believe it’s a bigger problem than it is. You’re not used to having someone love and care for you, and from what I’ve ascertained from your story, that is what Spencer is trying to do. You’re like a wounded dog, biting anyone who tries to help you because of what your dad did after your mom passed away. You feel cornered, and you lash out. You need to stop and take a breath. Running into bed with another man will not make you feel better, but it will make it much harder to deal with your problem. You don’t see that because you learned to shut down that side of you a long time ago.”
“What the hell is wrong with me? Honestly, Bree?”
“Nothing is wrong with you, Nat. You just have issues that you’ve never worked through. You probably have abandonment issues, and you definitely have trust issues. You might’ve gotten to the bottom of these things if you hadn’t fired every therapist you ever had. You have to face those problems and stop running from them. You deserve to be happy and in a relationship with a man who adores you, whether that’s Spencer or someone else down the road. But you will never know who that is if you don’t stop running away and start to work through things.”
“I don’t know how.” That was the God’s honest truth.
“If Spencer wants to be there for you, then let him. If the relationship part scares you, be honest with him. Start as friends, let him be there for you as a friend, and see where it goes and if it grows from there.”
I sighed, and the dairy in the ice cream was now enough to make me vomit. “I guess. I don’t know. I mean, I miss him, but I don’t?” I looked at her, confused. “I don’t know if I want any relationship with him, friends or not.”
“Nat, I’ve never seen you like this about a guy, ever, and I’ve seen you juggle plenty of them. But now someone is making you happy, and it’s scaring you, and your first instinct is to fuck it up?” She shook her head. “I’ve seen you scared plenty of times, and you always stand tall and tackle it head-on. So, what’s different about this time? Your feelings are involved? I don’t buy it.”
At that moment, my phone buzzed. I turned it over to see who it was, and seeing Spencer’s name on my screen plummeted my stomach.
“Is it Spence?” Bree asked, looking at my phone.
“Yeah,” I said, swallowing, “and I don’t know how to avoid getting in deeper.”
“No way to avoid that,” Alex said, shocking me when he walked out and spoke. “Take it from someone who spent years dancing around, playing avoidance games. You can only get deeper, so it’s time to swim or drown.”
“Fuck,” I looked at Bree. “And now, who’s the jackass taking advice from the men at the dinner table? My dumb ass.”
Chapter Thirty
SPENCER
I finished walking through the office buildings of Jenkins Media and sipped the last of the coffee the secretary offered Jim and me thirty minutes after we arrived. If Howard Templeton wanted to be late to host the largest corporation in America, which was looking to acquire and grow his business by larger margins than he could imagine, that was his questionable choice. But I had a sour taste about Jim taking on this company.
I had no idea if I was picking up on something intuitively or if I was just on edge because of everything with Nat, but there was something here I didn’t like. I was pretty sure it wasn’t just because I was generally in a fouler mood than usual lately, which worked out great for me professionally. The more ruthless I was, the more Mitchell and Associates benefitted. And I was feeling extremely merciless these days.
“What’s going through your mind?” Jim asked as we walked out of the elevator.
“Good afternoon, gentlemen,” a beautiful young woman said, batting her lashes at both of us.
My lack of reaction to this gorgeous woman might’ve taken me by surprise if I could manage to give a fuck. But, alas, I had no fucks to give.
What the fuck did Nat do to me?
“Good afternoon,” Jim responded, bringing her eyes to meet his, taking her fuck-me eyes off me. And, as all women did when they locked eyes with him, she nearly swooned.
This nonsense usually entertained me, but now, I had zero fucking tolerance for it.
I remained distant, watching the buzz of the atmosphere of this unique and lavish office building. The chandelier that hung in the large atrium where we stood sparkled in the sunlight that peered through the oval glass ceiling thirteen floors above. We were surrounded by plants, a marble fountain, leather sofas, and chairs to accommodate anyone who frequented this place.
As I looked around, I saw amenities and priceless works of art and sculptures. It was too much, it was foolish, and it was most likely half the reason this company’s deficits were ridiculous for no good reason.
There was no fucking way Jenkins Media should be so buried in debt. Regardless, Forrest Jenkins—a total bastard and eldest son of the late Delbert Jenkins—would come crawling to Jim for endorsements anyway.
