They made their way together down the elevator and through the lobby; Natalie glanced back a few times to make sure James wasn't behind them. She couldn't see any more of him that night, and in any event there was nothing left to say. At least, not until she had time to clear her own mind first.
After picking Natalie up from the
Jacqueline
Quinn took her to her own physician, Dr. Randall, who gave her a general exam, took her vitals and a little bit of blood, then sent her on her way with a note for work and a prescription for a mild anxiety pill. After quickly stopping by her own apartment for a few necessities and a change of clothes they went to Quinn's posh apartment and settled in for the evening. She slept well but dreamlessly, and though she had never once missed a day of work, decided that next morning was as good a day as any to call in sick.
She lasted an hour before pulling out her laptop from her bag and logging in to her work account. Quinn - who needed very little encouragement to play hooky from work - went out to pick up breakfast as Natalie returned emails and chatted with Shane via instant messenger.
They huddled together on the couch watching trash television as they ate, and stayed there well into the afternoon. Quinn so far hadn't once asked Natalie about what happened at the penthouse with James, and for that she was grateful. She didn't want to think about it - about him - let alone talk about him either.
Not that what she wanted was necessarily what she got.
Trash TV wasn't exactly a mental process - likely what Quinn had in mind for her on her rare day off - and she often found herself replaying parts of the previous evening in her head as the hours stretched by.
Quinn lazily handed over a bag of beef jerky. "Want to watch a movie after this episode?"
"Nah," Natalie answered as she grabbed a slice and bit off a generous bite. "I should probably think about heading home soon."
"Okay. Stomach feeling any better?"
"Haven't had any problems today."
Quinn nodded. "Good."
"Thanks for taking care of me, by the way."
"I was overdue for an impromptu day off anyway." Quinn turned and smiled affectionately at Natalie. "Next time we should go shopping though!"
"I'll keep that in mind next time I accidentally ralph all over my boyfriend's penthouse." She could detect the smallest measurement of humor in her voice and took it as a good sign.
Quinn chewed thoughtfully on a piece of jerky, her eyes glued on the large flat panel TV mounted to the wall across from the couch. "So he's still your boyfriend?"
Natalie sighed into the sumptuously overstuffed couch cushions. "I don't know that he was ever technically my 'boyfriend' to begin with. But in the general sentiment of the term, yes. At least for now."
"And what has potentially changed that?"
It was the first time she even remotely asked about the previous evening, and had gone out of her way to make sure Natalie was as comfortable as possible without ever prying into the events that led her to staying over. Natalie figured she not only owed her friend an explanation, but that it might make her feel better to say the words aloud since she wasn't doing a very good job about not thinking of them in the first place.
"James hooked up with Celine sometime before we met up in Vegas. She's pregnant, which he didn't know about until I brought it up. And in any event he doesn't care if it's his child she's pregnant with because he loves me and not her."
"Damn," Quinn cursed, drawing out the word for added effect. "Did you tell him you love him back?"
Natalie craned her neck to the side and looked at Quinn as if she had suddenly grown a second head. "
That's
what you're taking away from all this?"
Quinn merely shrugged. "If you two want to be together then I don't see the problem."
Natalie's eyes widened. "You don't see the problem with the fact that Celine may be pregnant with his kid?"
"This isn't the 1950's, Natalie. Kids can grow up with parents in separate homes and turn out just fine. Would you really want him to stay with a woman he didn't love just because of one night of indiscretion?"
"Well, no, but-"
"Would you really be content knowing the man you're in love with stayed with her because of some antiquated ideal?"
"I never said I was in love with him," Natalie protested.
"Oh sweetie." Quinn reached out and patted her hand against Natalie's. "The only person who
doesn't know
you're in love with that man is you."
By the time Quinn dropped Natalie off at her apartment the words
'the only person who doesn't know you're in love with that man is you'
were permanently emblazoned in her mind. She wanted to dislike Quinn for her black and white view of a Technicolor relationship, and doubted her friend would feel the same way if it were her in the situation and not Natalie.
She dumped her old clothes into the laundry basket before climbing into the shower for a quick rinse off. By the time she finished and crawled into her own bed for an early night of sleep the only thing on her mind was James.
The truth was she did know. But why anyone cared so much was a mystery to her.
Her cell phone vibrated awake, shaking the entire bedside table. The number was blocked, as was the caller's name. She answered just before it switched over to voicemail.
"Hello?"
"Natalie. Hello. This is Audra Robertson."
Shit!
Audra Robertson was calling her? But as what? A client? A friend? A protective sister?
Oh, God!
"Good evening, Audra," Natalie greeted, hoping that formality, as though the call were related to business, would cover all of her bases. But what if she was calling because of Celine? It wasn't like she could hang up on her; she was still a client. "What can I do for you?"
"I understand you were out sick today. Are you feeling any better?"
Natalie was confused as to how Audra Robertson knew anything about her work attendance. Who told her? Surely not Ivy Whitcomb, who probably didn't even register Natalie's absence.
"I am. Thank you."
"That's good to hear. So, you'll be attending the conference in Arrowhead this weekend."
Was she asking her a question or just making a statement of fact? And how did Audra Robertson know anything about what was going on in Natalie's life? More to the point, why did she care?
"Yes, I'll be going with a co-worker."
Oh, my god. Joe Gallo.
He was how Natalie came to discover that Celine was pregnant. He said the woman in tangerine and sherbet - who Natalie now knew was Celine - was an old friend. Only he made it seem like there was a lot more to the former relationship than just friendship. How exactly did he fit in to all of this?
"Have your hotel arrangements been booked yet?"
Why do you care?
"Um, to my knowledge they have not yet. That is being taken care of by my co-worker."
"Yes, unfortunately this is the lake's busiest season and it can sometimes be difficult to find adequate accommodations."
"Mmm hmmm," Natalie nodded. Where exactly was this heading? Why did Audra Robertson care anything about her?
"To that end I own a house on the lake. It's a short drive from where the conference is being held, and an even shorter boat ride. You're welcome to stay there for the weekend."
"Why are you offering, Audra? I'm no longer on your account-"
And I just outed your pregnant sister to her husband, my boyfriend,
"and while I certainly respect you we aren't exactly friends, if I may be so blunt."
Audra made a strange noise that Natalie could only identify as a grunt/chuckle. "I should think it would be obvious, Natalie."
Natalie shook her head in disbelief. "Maybe it's because I've spent the majority of my day bundled up watching the dumbest TV shows re-running on daytime television instead of at work being a productive adult, but it's not obvious to me at all why you would be offering."
"I like you. You have a good heart. You're intelligent. You're sweet but you don’t take shit from anyone, least of all from James. And he loves you."
Why was everyone so interested in whether or not James Fitzgerald loved her? And if she loved him back? She just could not understand, especially coming from his sister-in-law of all people.
Natalie leaned her head back against the headboard and closed her eyes, exasperated. "He may love me but he's got some things to figure out with your sister first."
"Because she's pregnant?"
Natalie's head snapped up, her eyes going wide with disbelief. "
You know
?"
"Of course I know. I've been trying to get my sister to tell James for weeks, but she has her own agenda. Which is why I insisted on taking her to Kate Mantilini last night."
"I don’t understand."
"I knew that once you found out she's pregnant you would tell James one way or another. Even if it meant sacrificing your own relationship you would do the right thing because that's the kind of woman you are. Unfortunately Celine underestimates people, herself especially."
"You set me up?" Natalie whispered, barely able to believe what she was hearing.
"Yes," Audra replied, and with a tone absent of any guilt whatsoever.
"Why?"
"Because I love James."
Suddenly Natalie felt like she might throw up again.
"Not
in a romantic way," Audra corrected. "I've known him longer than he's known my sister, and I consider him family. "
Natalie scoffed. "So why not just tell him yourself? Wouldn't that have been easier?" Not to mention less detrimental to James' and Natalie's relationship?
"I didn't want to play a part in Celine's game. So I rigged the outcome."
It was as if the universe had turned on another light bulb to reveal yet another truth Natalie was blind to.
"Joe Gallo!"
Oh, my God, how did I not see this?
She was so concerned with the bombshell news about James and Celine hooking up, and the subsequent pregnancy, that she had overlooked one of the most crucial details of all.
"I've known Joe a long time," Audra replied solemnly. "He's a good man. I suppose offering my house is a way for me to apologize for the position I put the both of you in yesterday. And it will give you an opportunity to impress Harry Brucker. Folks from Vegas always appreciate an impressive showing."
Unbelievable
. Audra Robertson was offering her home as a tool for impressing the owner of
The Gentleman's Show
as penance for nearly sabotaging Natalie's relationship. She would let her, but Natalie made a mental note to never piss the woman off.
"Thank you for the generous offer," she said, none too sincerely.
Audra pretended not to notice the tone. "You're welcome. I'll leave the house key and a packet of information - security codes, staff names, and lake rules for boating - with Kelly at the
Jacqueline
for you to pick up tomorrow evening."
Natalie's throat went dry. Her heart quickened. Audra couldn't just messenger the items to Brighton? Although, she supposed it was better than having to go straight to Fitson, where there was an even bigger chance of running into James. At least Kelly, the general manager at the
Jacqueline
, had an office on the ground floor far away from the penthouse. She could be in and out quickly and James would be none the wiser.
You're going to have to see him eventually
, she told herself. She knew that sooner or later she would have to come to a decision about James. She just didn't know what the hell to do.
The following day was a blur of catching up on missed emails, phone calls, firming up travel arrangements to Arrowhead with Joe - who was more than pleased at the opportunity to stay in Audra Robertson's lakeside home - and generally avoiding any thoughts of James, Celine, or Audra. It wasn't easy, especially with Joe and Ivy in the office.
She briefly considered asking Joe to pick up Audra's house keys at the
Jacqueline
, but the voice in her head (that sounded suspiciously like Quinn) told her that would be childish.
When Natalie finally broke free of her work-induced concentration coma and noticed it was a little
too
quiet in the office, she checked her phone display and found it was already well after six o'clock. She still had to eat dinner, pack for the weekend, water her indoor plants, do some laundry...
You can't avoid this, Natalie.
With a heavy sigh she packed up her bag and joined the mid-evening crawl of traffic towards the
Jacqueline
, her heart thumping and echoing in her chest. She arrived far too quickly given that it was rush hour, and opted for valet rather than to self park, figuring that she could get in and out much quicker if she didn't have to navigate through the parking garage.
She tugged nervously on her mint colored blazer atop a simple white blouse and cotton twill trousers, feeling once again out of place in a Fitson-owned establishment. Her eyes were trained on the front desk, not daring to look around the exquisitely appointed lobby in case she should see
him
. She spotted Kelly, a Fitson general issue sleek blonde in a tailored black dress, and smiled when the woman's face lit with recognition.
"Good evening, Miss Harlow," Kelly greeted, affecting a rather fancy tone that seemed to be standard issue as her sleek black dress and shiny hair. "I trust you are well this evening?"
"I am, thank you," Natalie replied with a soft smile. "Audra said she'd be leaving something for me with you?"
"Of course. Would you care to wait in the restaurant while I retrieve that for you? I believe Mr. Fitzgerald is there now."
If it weren't for her closed mouth Natalie’s heart might have taken a suicidal swan dive right onto the Carrera marble of the front desk.
"I'll just wait here." She shuddered as a wave of nervous energy rippled up her spine and through her shoulders. She fought the urge to needlessly busy herself with her cell phone or obscure her face behind a potted fern.
All he had to do was walk a foot into the lobby and he would see her, and she wasn't ready for that. Every moment that passed seemed to do so at a glacial pace, and Natalie honed in on her senses to a heightened state, thinking she would be able to feel him before see him.
When Kelly returned less than three minutes later with a thin, letter-size black box that looked more like a gift than a house key and driving directions, Natalie thanked her and headed back through the lobby, praying under her breath to go unnoticed.
It worked. She gave her ticket to the valet attendant and held Audra's box tightly in her hands while her car was fetched. She breathed a sigh of relief. Within moments she would be back on the road headed for home and packing for the weekend.
She fished her cell phone from her blazer pocket to read over Joe's itinerary and travel arrangements. Joe would pick up the rental car at ten. They'd depart together from Brighton at eleven. Approximate travel duration two to two and a half hours.
"Natalie?"
She could recognize James' voice anywhere.
"Miss Harlow?" called the valet attendant. He'd parked her car behind the black Town Car James was about to climb into. She couldn't make out whether the look of surprise on his face was good or bad. She wouldn't dare risk finding out.
"Good evening, Mr. Fitzgerald," she managed to speak as professionally as her meager voice would allow. She walked briskly to her open car door and palmed a few bills to the attendant. She only glanced up for a moment at James, who was watching her like a hawk, before climbing behind the wheel and taking off.
Please don't follow, please don't follow, please don't follow.
The Town Car kept pace behind her for nearly three blocks before taking a right turn toward a freeway onramp. She breathed a sigh of relief and headed to her apartment.
It was nearly eleven o'clock by the time she zipped her small suitcase closed and wheeled it to the front door to sit next to her work bag. All she'd have to do the next morning is get ready and go.
The black box Audra had left for her at the
Jacqueline
caught her eye from its place on the couch. She'd carelessly thrown it there once she arrived home and had forgotten about it since. She took a seat and placed the box in her lap, lifting the lid gingerly with the pads of her fingertips as though something fragile were inside.
A gold key ring with four keys and a fob for a vehicle sat atop a pile of vellum paper stamped with Audra's monogram. She glanced over each one, taking in bits of information about the house. Chalet-style cabin in a gated community located on a peninsula. Private dock with two boat slips. Beautiful views in all seven bedrooms. There was a list of names for the house manager, chef, maid, gardener, and licensed boat manager. And another list of security codes for gates and a four-car garage.
Rich people
, she mused to herself. She stacked the papers together to put them back into the box when something caught her eye. She recognized the glossy Kelly green, credit-card sized piece with gold lettering instantly: A room key for the
Jacqueline.
Natalie set the box down gingerly and pushed it across the expanse of the couch. She knew better than to think Audra Robertson had accidentally dropped a
Jacqueline
room key into the box, and she'd bet her next paycheck that that key was active and only opened the penthouse.
Sneaky woman.
She abandoned the box on the couch and headed into the bathroom to quickly rinse off the day.
Don't even think about it
, she warned herself as she dried off and shimmied into a black cotton knit gown. She checked the alarm clock, double-checked that the front door was locked and then shut off the lights before slipping into bed.
The moment her eyelids closed she thought of nothing but James and the look on his face when they saw each other outside of the
Jacqueline
. Not even his usual uniform of a finely tailored black suit could distract from the lack of sleep in his eyes or the downturn of the corners of his mouth. He looked even more intense than normal, which Natalie knew to be a lot. Did he think she had come there to see him? That she had chickened out, ran away? She had to explain to him that that wasn't the case.
No. Don't even go there, Natalie.
She couldn't have him think that she was only capable of running away from him. She just needed time to think and come to decisions on her own, without him or anyone else influencing her along the way.
But what if the key was a sign?
She turned to her side and tried to give in to sleep, promising herself to use the weekend ahead to
really
think about James, their relationship, and what she was going to do about both.