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Nate pulls his shoulders back. Just when I think he’s going to brush off the question, he answers so sincerely it takes my breath away. “Home is important. It provides a sense of belonging and love. At home you should be able to relax and feel safe. Something I wasn’t able to do during the years before I met Lainey and Will Owen.”
I never expected a testimony to come out of my date’s—er, Nate’s—mouth. He’s either buttering me up or telling the truth.
“Why do you do what you do?”
“Are you asking if I’m passionate about working at the bureau?” I lift my cappuccino to my lips, nervous he knows the truth. As a woman who came from a high-powered corporate environment, I’m grossly overqualified for the position at CRBI.
“You seemed plenty passionate when you came to my site.”
“You broke a rule.”
“Bent,” he corrects. “There are a lot of ethical gray areas in life.”
“And you operate from several of them.”
“The sooner the site is complete, the sooner wide-eyed, passionate entrepreneurs can move in.” He sounds slightly defensive. “I provide a place where they can thrive. That’s worthy. More worthy than words printed on papers that haven’t been looked at closely in decades. Bureaucracy has its shortcomings.”
“So does seeing oneself as a saint.”
His firm mouth shifts to one side, a ghost of smile playing on his lips. “You were hell-bent on shutting me down. Why?”
“That’s my job.” I shrug.
He shakes his head, not accepting my answer. “That was Gary’s job. That is Daniel’s job. You wanted to shut me down for another reason entirely.”
“I don’t like cheaters,” I mutter before I can stop myself.
“Thanks to an old boyfriend?” he guesses wrong.
He’s fishing but using the wrong bait. “Sure.”
The check arrives and we lock eyes for a good, long while. He pays while I finish my cappuccino.
“You weren’t going to halt construction at Grand Marin no matter what I said or did, were you, Mr. Owen?” I ask. But I know the answer.
He shakes his head, content to be honest. “There’s always a way to smooth out rough patches during construction, Ms. Vandemark. This isn’t my first rodeo. I have an important job to do. A reputation to uphold.”
“A reputation for finishing early, I heard.” I grin.
“Maybe someday you’ll find out.” His answering grin is honey-smooth. “As you now know,” he says, serious, “my reputation involves more than me. It’s the Owens I protect and serve.”
I consider his loyalty and feel the pang of jealousy again. He has a family. A good one.
“Is Daniel worth fighting for?” he asks of my boss.
“What’s right is worth fighting for,” I hedge. “You can’t do whatever you want just because of your family’s last name.” A lesson I have learned over and over again.
“Is this your own rotten-grapes experience speaking or are you envious of the haves?”
The waiter returns and Nate signs the receipt with a flourish. When he tucks the slip into the black book, he sits back in his seat and waits for my answer.
I don’t give him one. “Dinner was lovely. Thank you.”
“I wanted you to see how the other side lives. We’re not so bad after all, are we?”
We have a mini standoff. He had to have noticed the chilled veal wasn’t a new experience for me. Noticed how I viewed the braised winter chicories, duck confit and tartare with parsley root as commonplace a meal as they come.
“It’s what I expected,” I say. “A lot of show for a little food. Expensive wine and cheap table linens.” The truth is the food was exquisite, the company enthralling, and the table linens not cheap at all.
