Return of the Jerk (Sweet Life in Seattle, Book 2) (35 page)

“Don’t know what you’re doing,” he growls. “But we need to discuss this.”

Where would Blair go?

Either Tori’s or her parents, he figures. He calls Tori first, but she doesn’t answer either, so he leaves a message for his sister to call him. He brings up his list of contacts, sees he still has Blair’s parents’ house number, and wonders if it’s the same from all those years ago.

One way to find out.

He hears the phone ringing and when a woman answers, he recognizes her mom, Cherise’s, voice. He takes a deep breath and politely tells her it’s Nathan, that he’s trying to get a hold of Blair.

“Who is this?”

“Sorry, it’s Road,” he says, remembering she doesn’t know him as anything else.

“That’s right,” Cherise says. “You go by Nathan now.”

“Have you talked to Blair today by chance?”

“No, she should be at work. Have you tried her cell?”

“Yeah, no luck, though.”

“You could try the number at La Dolce Vita. Otherwise, I’ll tell her you called.”

“Okay, thanks.” He’s ready to hang up when he can hear Cherise still talking.

“Actually, I’m glad you called. I was planning to phone you myself. I wanted to ask you about Fiona.”

He nods. “Sure, what do you want to know?”

Cherise starts asking him ten million questions. He remembers her being tough, and it’s obvious she hasn’t changed.

“Do you trust her? I guess that’s what I’m really asking,” Cherise finally says.

“Fiona is kind of a character, but I have to say I do trust her. She knows what she’s doing.”

The phone is silent as Cherise seems to take this in. “All right, thank you. I’m glad to hear you’re doing so well, Nathan. I know that wasn’t an easy time years ago. For any of us.”

You can say that again.

They hang up and Nathan turns back to his computers, but his thoughts go back to that lousy scene this morning. What sucks is he was in a great mood before it happened. Blair telling him she wanted to be more intimate while they were in the shower had both surprised and pleased him.

How did it go so wrong so fast?

When it’s lunchtime, he goes to see what kind of food Fiona wants. They’ve gotten into a routine with each other where they either go out for lunch or, more often than not, order takeout, which he usually picks up. It turns out they’re both workaholics, and except for the way Fiona balks at paying her part of the bill, have an oddly compatible daytime relationship.

Fiona is reading something on her computer and holds up her finger, so he doesn’t interrupt. He checks his phone while he’s waiting. Still no word from Blair. He decides to try a different tactic and sends her a text.

We need to talk
.

“Let’s go out for lunch today,” Fiona says, closing her computer. She gets up.

He shrugs. “Sure.”

Nathan goes to grab the keys to the Honda and discovers they’re gone. Isadora’s keys are the only ones there.

This stops him cold.

She didn’t take Isadora?

He stares at the Mustang’s long, silver keys and his gut goes tight. For some reason, this bothers him more than anything—more than her cursing him out, more than her packing a bag even.

There’s a note of finality to it that makes him uneasy.

He and Fiona go to a nearby sushi place that, as he recalls, meets with her approval since she only complained about five things last time they were there, as opposed to the usual twenty.

After they place their food order, Fiona goes to the restroom, and he decides to try Blair’s phone again. He listens to it ring, but she’s still not picking up and he’s annoyed when her voicemail comes on.

“This is bullshit, Blair. Call me.”

“Are you kidding?” Fiona gawks as she takes the seat across from him again. “You’re going to have to sweet talk her better than
that
.”

“Told you to stay out of it.”

“You need to tell her you’re sorry. Be humble.”

“Just like you and Sachi, huh?”

Fiona sweeps her long, dark hair over her shoulder, but doesn’t reply, just pretends to read the drink menu.

“Hear you weeping every night, but don’t hear you telling her you’re sorry. Maybe you should follow your own advice.”

“Probably,” she admits. “But if you want Blair back, you’re going to have to apologize.”

Nathan sneers. “For what? Hell, I’m the injured party here.” He thinks about Blair going through his stuff. She had no right to do that. “She went through my private things and took Isadora’s title,” he says, regretting already that he’s sharing any of this with Fiona. “Stole it,” he adds.

“Your private things? My
God
, listen to you. You’re pathetic.”

Nathan glares at Fiona. Uses his toughest meanest glare, the one he pulls out for emergencies, like trying to stop a bar fight.

Of course, it has no effect. He has to hand it to her.
She is one Teflon bitch
.

“Are you both blind
and
stupid?” Fiona continues ranting. “You come back after five years, move in then take over her entire apartment!”

Nathan is silent. “She tell you that?”

“Yes, she did.”

It’s true. He did do that. Admits it was kind of a dick thing to do even.

“She’s my wife,” he says instead.

Fiona rolls her eyes. “Do you seriously believe I’m that dumb? It’s obviously not a real marriage.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because I’ve never even heard of her until a month ago. Not to mention neither of you wears a wedding ring.”

He glances down at his bare left hand. Hasn’t seen that plain gold ring in years. It’s still at his mom’s house, as far as he knows.

“What else she tell you?”

“She told me you’re still in contact with Sonia.”

He frowns. “Where did she get that idea?”

“I don’t know. Is it true?”

“She calls sometimes, but it’s over between us.”

“Are you sure?”

“Definitely.” He was conflicted about Sonia, but coming back to Seattle was the right thing to do. It helped clear his head.

Fiona softens her voice. “I think you have feelings for Blair. I can see it when you two are together.”

Nathan doesn’t say anything, simply turns and watches the waiter bring over their food.

“What are you going to do?”

He lets out his breath. “No fucking clue.”

“What do you mean she won’t speak to me?” Nathan is standing out on Tori’s front porch. He finally tracked Blair down and discovered this is where she’s staying.

“You brought this on yourself. You know that, right?” Tori says.

“What the hell are you talking about? Let me inside the house so I can see Blair.”

“No, I don’t think so.” Tori blocks the doorway. “What exactly are your intentions toward her?”

“My intentions?”

“Yes. She’s told me you’ve been staying at her place the past few weeks, sharing her bed. But what are your intentions?”

“I don’t have any intentions!”

Apparently, this was not the right answer because Tori is now glaring at him. “I see. So you want the milk for free? Without buying the cow, is that it?”

“Jesus Christ, I bought the cow, remember? I’m married to the cow.” He stops talking and takes a breath. “That didn’t come out right.”

“Just so you know, I’ve tried to be Switzerland, but that’s over. I’m on Blair’s side now.”

Nathan is bewildered.
There are sides?
He studies his sister, knows when she gets into protective mode she’s not always reasonable, also knows it goes back to when they were kids and had to deal with all their mom’s shit. He tries to bring logic back to this conversation. “Look, I care about Blair and just want to talk to her a little bit, figure out what’s going on.”
And how to get her to come back.

“What’s going on is you need to smarten up and stop messing with her head, okay?”

“I’m not messing with anybody’s head!”

Tori just frowns at him. “I can’t believe my own brother would fail the Bandito Test. Blair certainly deserves better than that.”

Nathan rolls his eyes. “Not this dumb test again. Swear to God, you two are like Lucy and Ethel. Where did you even come up with this crap?”

“That sort of attitude is not going to get you anywhere.” Tori’s golden retriever suddenly slips through the doorway past her and comes out to greet Road.

“Hey, buddy.” He puts his hand out and lets the dog smell it.

“Blair is going to be staying here for a while. She’ll call you when she’s ready to talk.”

Nathan pats the dog, but there’s a sinking feeling in his gut. “Does she want me to move out?” he asks quietly, glancing up. “That what this is all about?”

Tori doesn’t say anything, just hovers in the doorway.

“Guess I’ve overstayed my welcome.”

“That’s between you and Blair.” She motions at her dog. “Come on, Eddie.”

The golden retriever immediately goes to Tori and trots into the house as she holds the door open.

Nathan sighs to himself. As he leaves, he walks past the Honda.
So Blair won’t speak to me. What the hell do I do now?

He doesn’t feel like going back to the condo and dealing with Fiona and all her busybody advice, so he calls his cousin, Brody. He and his girlfriend, Kiera, are going out to a club tonight to watch some live music, so Nathan decides to join them.

He doesn’t plan it, but winds up telling Brody all about the situation with Blair.

“Dude, you chased Blair out of her own place?” Brody chuckles. “That’s messed up.”

When the band is between sets, Kiera goes to the restroom. The club is noisy and smells like alcohol and stale sweat.

“Can’t believe she’d just leave like that.” Nathan motions to the waitress for another beer. “Still not even sure what happened. Have to admit, I got pissed off when I found out she’d gone through my stuff and taken Isadora’s title.”

Brody leans forward. “Blair loves that car. Poured her heart and soul into it.”

Nathan frowns. He fiddles with his empty bottle, but doesn’t say anything. Can feel Brody studying him. Despite being cousins, they don’t look much alike since Brody’s dad is part Native American and those genes came out strong.

“I like Blair,” Brody says. “Don’t fuck with her, all right? She doesn’t deserve that.”

Nathan looks up. “Jesus, first Tori and now you. Why does everybody think I’m out to screw Blair over?”

“I’m not saying that. It’s just that you’ve been gone a long time, and no one knows whether you’re planning to stick around.”

“I am. Think so, anyway.”

Brody nods. “All right, good.”

Their waitress brings over Nathan’s fresh beer and lets her eyes linger on his. He turns away, uninterested. The only woman who seems to have captured his interest these days is the one who’s deciding to avoid him.

It’s late when he gets back to the condo. Fiona is talking on the phone as she paces the living room in her black nightgown. He has to admire Sachi’s patience. Maybe he was wrong about those two and they’ll get back together.

He goes into Blair’s room, can still hear Fiona talking though it hasn’t hit the weeping stage yet. Grabbing his Kindle, he decides to read in bed for a little while. Mr. Maurice comes over to sit at his side, watching him.

“Bet you’re wondering why your mistress isn’t here.” He pets the cat. “I’m wondering the same thing.”

Nathan tries to read, but is too distracted. He can’t stop thinking about Blair. It feels strange being in her bedroom without her. Can smell her perfume faintly on the sheets and wishes he was smelling it on her instead.

This is bullshit.

So maybe I have worn out my welcome, there’s still no reason for her to act this way.

He glances around her bedroom, everything done in various shades of peach and pink—so feminine. All her scarves are hung neatly on hooks by her dresser, clean and organized like everything else in her life. He finds it relaxing, especially since it’s the exact opposite of what he grew up in
.

He reflects back to this morning and the way he’d been sifting through all her pretty lingerie. And then to the shower where she’d told him she wanted him, wanted more of him.

Be damned if I didn’t feel like a million bucks after that
.
None of this makes any sense.
If she wanted me to leave then why did she say what she did in the shower?

Frustrated, he turns off the bedside lamp and lies on his back with his arm tucked under his head. Fiona has started weeping out in the living room, and he feels annoyed all over again about this situation.

Had every right to be pissed about Blair taking Isadora’s title.

Though, in truth, he’s mostly pissed now because she isn’t here next to him.

Nathan closes his eyes and tries to sleep, but can already tell it’s not going to happen. He’s had insomnia since he was a kid and knows when sleep isn’t going to come.

“Dammit.” He lets out his breath, throws the covers back and sits up, eliciting an annoyed meow from Mr. Maurice. “You and me both, pal.” He decides to get his computer and write for a while.