Noah
I don't understand. Natalie seemed to like what she saw yesterday when she walked into my office. I stood naked before her—I flirted with her. Yet the little vixen has now downloaded Tinder.
What did I do wrong?!
Did I not please her after all? Is that why she ran home so quickly? Do I look weird down there or something?
Or was I too harsh in the way I behaved?
I DON'T UNDERSTAND, AND IT'S KILLING ME!
I slurp coffee in my misery, lifting the cup higher to give a little cheer to Natalie when she catches me spying on her from my office window. She narrows her fierce eyes, and I grimace—great, I've officially reached stalker-level creepiness.
Natalie goes back to swiping on her phone. She is on break, and suddenly I wish I had Tinder. I want to see her reaction to my picture. Would she swipe left or right?
I drink more of the glorious caffeine-filled latte. After Natalie made me discover the wonder of a vanilla latte, I had to buy an expensive machine that knows how to make them.
My eyes are on Natalie, and all the oxygen gets kicked out of my lungs when she smiles. She is now replying to a message from some man, and I don't like it one bit. Why do I even care? It makes little sense.
Frustrated with my own behavior, I turn around. I stroll over to my chair and dive into work; it's what I should be doing instead of fantasizing about a certain brunette.
I work for what feels like an eternity until it's time to leave the office. I'm exhausted from all the phone calls and video chats I've had. Dragging my hand through my hair, I walk up to Natalie's desk.
She is packing her bag with a cheery smile.
My lips curl. "You're in a good mood."
Natalie lifts her eyes to mine. "Yes, I am."
I decide it won't hurt to strike up a conversation. "Might I ask why?"
Her cheeks turn red. "I hate a date."
"Oh," I'm not sure why that hurts. Nothing about how I'm reacting to Natalie makes sense. "Where are you going?"
"We are meeting at my place," Natalie smiles. "Emma is invited too, and I'm making Vietnamese food."
"Vietnamese?" I whistle. "Color me impressed—you didn't strike me as someone who cooks. But Asian dishes are supposedly more complicated to make than American ones. You must be very talented."
Her eyes widen as if she didn't expect the praise. Her cheeks are colored red, but her smile turns bittersweet. "A long time ago, someone took me to a restaurant to eat Vietnamese food. I hesitated. I thought the Italian one would be better, but I was wrong."
I breathe a laugh, crossing my arms over my chest. "I'm not surprised—Asian dishes are better in my experience. There is more of a flavor explosion, whereas Italian dishes start to taste the same after a while."
"Yeah," Natalie is crying now. "That person ordered every dish for me on the menu, and after he walked out of my life... It was like I had lost a part of myself. I wouldn't stop crying, and the only way to feel his presence was to do the things he loved."
My heart falters. "I'm so sorry, Natalie..."
Natalie won't even look at me. "I watched the movies he loved. I listened to his music and wore his type of clothes. And... I've been poor for a long time, so cooking the dishes he loved became part of my life."
I find her eyes asking in a low voice. "Did that person die?"
To my surprise, Natalie laughs. The tears won't stop running down her face, but she smiles through them. "In a way, I guess he did. That person isn't part of my personal life anymore, and he won't ever come back."
I'm struggling to stand still. It pains me to see Natalie sad. I want to hug her again, hold her close, but she throws a glimpse at the clock on the wall and grimaces.
"I have to go, or I won't be ready for my date. I have to prepare all the food and pick up Emma from the babysitter."
I force a smile even though my chest feels too tight and my heart a little too big. "Natalie?"
Her green eyes land on mine. "Yes?"
"This man you're taking home, are you sure he is a good person? You're taking him home to your daughter."
Her face lights up. "Don't underestimate me—I can knock a good punch if needed." She shows me her tiny bicep and grins when I laugh. "And my neighbors are very close to me. They would come rushing over if something happened. I told them about the date too."
"That makes me more at ease," I tell her softly. "You can call me too if you need me. I would come rushing over in a heartbeat. I might live far away from your location, but my car is fast."
She freezes and stares at me. Those beautiful eyes roam over my face while searching for a deeper meaning. It makes me anxious, so I quickly clear my throat.
"Not that you would need it—you're clearly capable of taking care of yourself. Huge biceps and all. I bet the bloke would be terrified if you attacked him."
Natalie narrows her eyes, but her lips are playful. "Yeah, you don't mess with girls barely over five feet tall—we are vicious and way more dangerous than the tall ones."
I laugh. "Why are shorter girls more vicious?"
She taps her temple, smiling. "Because we are closer to the ground and therefore almost neighbors with the devil himself."
I snort. "You're something else."
She beams at me and picks up her bag. "You're not so bad either."
I arch an eyebrow, smirking. "How do you know my words were a compliment, huh?"
"I just assumed that was the case," Natalie winks at me. "Goodbye, Noah. See you tomorrow!"
She heads for the door, and my heart is already bleeding. I don't want her to leave. I want to take her home, kiss her lips and take her out for dinner, but Natalie is my step-sister. That might be the reason she ran home so quickly yesterday.
It probably turns Natalie off that I'm her step-brother, which is sad. Had she not been on her way to cook food for someone else, I might have asked her if I could walk her home.
And who knows?
It might have ended with a kiss, maybe two.
But I realize that is only wishful thinking. Natalie isn't interested in someone like me, and I still remember what Elias told me: Natalie is a liar I should stay away from.
Yet I'm beginning to think Elias lied.
Natalie is a hardworking woman, and she hasn't lied once since she became my assistant. In fact, Natalie seems scarily honest at times, unafraid of speaking her mind. I admire that.
"Enjoy your evening Natalie," I smile at the woman. "And say hi to your beautiful daughter Emma for me."
Natalie stops by the door, smiling back. "I will."