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“Ashamed of me?”
“No, but you might be ashamed of me.” He smiles, almost sheepishly. I find it sort of irresistible. What is he doing to me?
“That’s not necessary.”
“I know.” He kisses me as Brandy comes back inside with two large bags that, I assume, contain shoes.
It takes less than an hour for us to settle on my walk-of-shame outfit. She brought three sizes, including mine. No tape measure needed.
Nate palms her cash and helps her to her car by carrying the large shoe bags for her. She picked out shorts and a tee, high wedge sandals and jewelry. Nate insisted on sunglasses. He returns with a dress.
“This is for lunch on Friday,” he informs me. “Brandy said it was perfect for you.”
The safari-green wrap dress is perfect for me. It has pockets and pairs well with the wedge sandals.
“Nate, I can’t accept—”
“You’re welcome, Vivian. Come on. Let’s shower.”
I allow him to lead the way upstairs to his incredible bathroom I admired a few hours ago. Then he’s stripping himself and me and throwing us both under the spray. Any insisting he doesn’t have to buy me clothes, or attempts to pay him back, is met with kisses meant to shut me up.
And since his kisses are very good, we stay in the shower longer than necessary to wash ourselves…and each other.
“Whoa, that is a gorgeous dress.”Amber is out of her seat in an instant as I pass by her cubicle Friday morning. Today is the day of the lunch date. Despite the strong urge to be contrary and wear something from my closet, I wear the dress he bought me.
After years of not being treated, being treated feels nice, but it’s about more than being spoiled. Nate and I were close last Saturday and I liked the closeness. Wearing a gift from him feels like he’s close now. Is that completely corny?
“Thanks,” I tell my coworker.
“It’s very you.”
She’s spot-on. It is very me. I wonder if she also recognizes I don’t fit in at CRBI. I wonder if Daniel noticed how comfortable I was at the event last weekend.
“What’s the occasion?” Amber folds her arms over her chest.
“I’m having lunch with Nathaniel Owen.”
“For professional reasons?” Her smile says she suspects not.
“Not exactly.”
“You’re seeing Owen today?” Daniel barks, interrupting our conversation. “In that case, I have something for you to give him. Come to my office.”
I roll my eyes at Amber who makes an unsavory face. Then I follow Daniel and pick up an envelope of what he calls “boring forms” for Nate. As my hand grips the envelope, Daniel tugs it toward him. “Be careful. Men like Owen want one thing, Vivian.”
“Sex?” I guess.
“Power,” he answers, his face turning red. “Don’t get caught up with him like some people do.”
“Like you did?” He can’t look me in the eye. The truth hurts. I get it. “I can take care of myself. You don’t have to worry about me, Dad.”
I turn and walk away. It’s been a long time since I called anyone “Dad” and though I was being facetious, the word embeds itself into my skin like a stubborn splinter.
Halfway back to my cubicle, my cell phone rings on my desk. Walt’s name lights the screen. It’s a video call. I debate going outside, decide that’s the best plan, and duck out the front door as I answer.
I’m on the sidewalk between the pizza place and a coffee shop when my brother’s gaunt face fills the screen. It’s not a new look for him. Walt’s never held a lot of weight. Since rehab his color’s better, but his slimness remains.
“Hey, sis.”
