Corporate A$$ (18 page)

Nathan

She was wrapped around me, her leg over mine. Her head lay on my chest as my arm held her all night. I was hesitant at first, my fears warranted. What kind of man would I be if I had just turned away from her? Did I care? Yes, I did care when it came to her.

She opened her eyes and looked up at me with a smile.

“Good morning,” I spoke.

“Good morning. What time is it?”

I glanced over at the clock. “It’s eight. The bank will be opening in about an hour.”

Her hand glided over my chest and she let out a sigh.

“I’m nervous as to what is in that box.”

“I’m a little nervous myself, but I’m sure it’s no big deal.”

She lifted her head and sat up, her beautiful breasts exposed and staring me in the face. My cock started to twitch.

“If it wasn’t a big deal, he wouldn’t have hidden the key and kept whatever is in that box here in Maine. He obviously didn’t want anyone to find out what he was up to.”

“Well.” My fingers brushed against her breasts as I couldn’t take my eyes off of them. “There’s only one way to find out and that’s to get up, get dressed, and unlock that box.”

“Who’s taking a shower first?” she asked with seriousness.

“We’re going to have to take one together to save time.” I smiled as I tugged at her hardened nipple.

“Then let’s go.” She grinned as she grabbed my hand.

After a thirty-minute shower, I wrapped a towel around my waist and she put on her robe. I needed to shave, so I stepped in front of the sink while she stood next to me and put on her makeup. We were sharing a space, something I had never done with a woman before. I kept stealing little glances as she made herself up. She didn’t need makeup because I thought she was beautiful without it.

“Ouch!” I cut myself with the razor.

“Are you okay?” She looked over at me.

“Just cut myself and it’s your fault.” I winked.

“My fault?” She let out a light laugh. “How was it my fault?”

“Because you’re distracting me.” I grabbed a tissue and held it over my small cut.

She smiled as she applied her mascara. “Then keep your eyes to yourself.”

“I’m trying.” I grinned.

We headed down to the restaurant to grab a quick bite to eat and some coffee before going to the bank.

“We need to check out before we go,” she spoke.

“Maybe we should reserve one more night. You never know what we’re going to find in that safety deposit box. It’s better to be safe than sorry.”

“True.”

After finishing breakfast, we headed to the front desk.

“Hello, how may I help you?” the same man from last night asked.

“We’d like to stay one more night,” I spoke.

“What room are you in?”

“510.”

“I’m sorry, but you reserved that for last night only and it’s already booked for tonight.”

“Seriously?” I asked in aggravation.

“It’s tourist season, Mr. Carter.”

“And I’m a tourist and I can’t even get a damn room.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Check us out then, and we won’t be coming back here,” I huffed.

Fiona put her hand on my back and laughed. “Calm down. We’ll be okay.”

We climbed in the rental car and drove to the bank. It was a good thing they were open on a Saturday or else we would have had to stay until Monday and we would have been sleeping in the car.

****

Fiona

As we walked into the bank, I could feel my nerves getting the best of me.

“How may I help you?” an older woman asked.

“We need to get into our safety deposit box, please,” I spoke.

“Name.”

“Winslow.” I pulled out the key.

“Follow me.”

She took us to the vault where all the safety deposit boxes were located. She inserted her key and I inserted mine, turning them at the same time and hearing the lock click. She took the box out and led us to a small room.

“If you need anything else, just let me know.” She smiled as she walked out and shut the door.

“Okay. Here we go.” I took in a deep breath and opened the lid to the box.

Inside sat a white envelope. Removing it, I took out the folded piece of paper and looked at it.

“What the hell? This looks like a deed.” I looked at Nathan, who took it from my hand.

“It is. It’s a deed to some property your father purchased in a town called Mars Hill.”

“How could he own property and not tell anyone?”

“I don’t know. I think we need to go to Mars Hill.”

“How the hell are we going to find the property? There’s no address.”

“We’d have to go to the registry office, but being it’s Saturday, I’m sure they’re closed. What the fuck?!” Nathan exclaimed as he took a closer look.

“What?”

“It says this land was purchased from my father, Thomas Carter.” He stared blankly at me.

“Oh my God. Are you serious?”

“Yes. I’m very serious. He sold the property right before he died two years ago.”

“And you didn’t know anything about this?” I narrowed my eyes at him.

“No. And don’t give me that look. I had no clue my father owned property in Maine. He didn’t sell it through the company or else the deed would say Carter Management Group. This was a private transaction between the two of them.”

He set down the deed and paced around the small room.

“Why would my father own property here and never speak of it? I just don’t understand.”

“I don’t know, Nathan. There’s so many questions that need to be answered.”

“Let’s go see what we can find out.”

When we got back into the car, Nathan pulled up Mars Hill on the GPS.

“It’s over a two-hour drive from here,” he spoke. “Ready for a road trip?” He held out his hand to me.

“Ready.” I smiled as I placed my hand in his.

Nathan was quiet for most of the ride and I could tell he was upset, so I didn’t say too much. As we drove down the road, we approached a sign that said: Welcome to Mars Hill, population 1609.

“Damn, this is a small ass town,” I spoke.

“It sure is.”

“Where do we start?” I asked.

“I have no clue, but I’m hungry and I need a drink. Let’s get something first.”

“Okay, but where?” I laughed.

“There’s a bar up ahead.” He pointed. “We’ll just stop there.”

Pulling into the gravel parking lot of Fields Bar and Grill, we stepped inside and all heads turned to look at us.

“They know we’re not from around here,” I whispered.

“Of course they do. It’s a small town. They know strangers when they see them.”

“Welcome to Fields Bar and Grill.” A young brunette girl smiled. “Just the two of you?”

“Yes,” I replied.

She took us over to a table and placed our menus down in front of us. “Can I start you off with something to drink?”

“I’ll have a scotch on the rocks. Make it a double.”

“And I’ll have a glass of merlot.” I smiled.

“Coming right up.”

I could feel the stares of the people around us and it was creeping me out.

“I thought small towns were supposed to be friendly,” I leaned over and whispered to Nathan.

“I don’t know. I’ve never really been to a small town like this before.”

As we were looking over the menu, an older gentleman approached us.

“Good afternoon. Where you all from?” he asked.

“Los Angeles.” Nathan smiled.

“What brings you to Mars Hill?”

Like it was any of this guy’s business. What the hell? Are people not from this town allowed to eat here without being interrogated?

“We’re just passing through,” Nathan replied.

The waitress arrived to our table and set our drinks down in front of us.

“Where you going?” the nosy man asked.

“Nowhere in particular. We’re just taking a road trip and seeing the beautiful sights your state has to offer.”

“Are you ready to order?” the waitress asked.

“I’ll have the lobster roll and an order of French fries, please.” I smiled.

“I’ll have the same,” Nathan spoke as he handed her our menus.

“Good luck on your road trip. Enjoy your lunch.” The man walked away.

“Okay, that was weird.” I looked at Nathan as I picked up my glass of wine.

“He was just being friendly.”

“Nosy is more like it.” I took a sip and then looked down into my glass.

Fiona

“What’s wrong?” Nathan asked as he stared at me.

“Taste this wine.” I handed him my glass.

“Wow.” He looked at me in surprise.

“Right? This has to be the best glass of wine I have ever had in my life. Shit, Nathan. This is way better than Winslow Wines.”

“I agree.”

Our waitress came back and set our food down in front of us.

“Excuse me,” I spoke. “Where do you get your wine?”

“We make it ourselves.” She smiled.

“You make your own wine for this bar?”

“Yes. Our family owns the bar and we make our wines ourselves. We’ve been doing it for over forty years.”

“It’s very good. Do you grow your own grapes or do you have them shipped in?”

“We grow our own at our farm up the road.”

“Well, it’s the best wine I’ve ever had. Do you have other varieties?” I asked.

“Thank you and yes. We have Pino Grigio, Chardonnay, Moscato, Shiraz, and a Cabernet Sauvignon.”

“I’ll have a glass of each, please.”

“Coming right up.”

Nathan sat across from me with a frown splayed on his face.

“A glass of each? Are you out to get drunk or something?”

“I’m not going to drink the whole glass. I’m wine tasting.” I smirked.

“Why?” He narrowed his eye at me. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

“Nothing. I like a good wine and I’m curious to see if the others are just as good as this merlot.”

“We aren’t here to wine taste.”

“Shush,” I spoke as I took a bite of my lobster roll.

The waitress came back and set the glasses of wine down in front of me.

“Thank you.” I politely smiled.

I sipped from each glass and the wine got better and better.

“Holy shit, Nathan. Taste these.”

“They’re very good.”

“Better than good and you know it.” I pointed at him.

“Actually, this lobster roll is better than good.” He smiled.

“Excuse me.” I held up my finger at the waitress who was standing behind the bar.

“Yes?” She walked over.

“Is your wine available for purchase by the bottle?”

“No. We only make it and sell it by the glass here.”

I gave her a dumbfounded look. “Why? Do you not know that this is probably the best wine on the market?”

“What’s going on over here?” The nosy man from earlier walked up.

“This customer loves our wine and would like to buy bottles of it.”

“We don’t sell it by the bottle. May I ask your name?” He glared at me.

“My name is Fiona Winslow, and yours?” I held out my hand.

“Jim Fields, owner of this bar and wine.” He lightly shook my hand.

“So you make this yourself?” I asked.

“Yes.”

“On your farm up the road?”

“That’s right.”

“Have you ever considered marketing your wine and expanding to stores or restaurants?”

“No,” he answered with a slight attitude.

“Actually, I did once, Miss Winslow,” another older gentleman approached our table. “You’ll have to excuse my son. We have different views on business. You wouldn’t happen to be related to Chris Winslow?”

“Yes, he was my father.”

“Was?”

“He passed away recently.”

“I see. I’m sorry.”

“Thank you. And you are?” I cocked my head as he took a seat at the table.

“Linden Fields. I’m the actual owner of this bar and the farm up the road.”

“How do you know my father?”

“He came in here a couple of years ago, had a glass of wine, and offered me a business deal. He wanted us to produce wine for his company. Even purchased the land to grow another vineyard. Had me draw up some plans and said he needed to get the funds together to start building. He called me and said that he ran into a financial issue and that he’d be in touch as soon as he got it straightened out.”

“How long ago was this?”

“Let’s see. He purchased the land two years ago and the last I spoke with him was, probably, less than a year ago. I had no idea he passed away.”

“Can we see your farm?” I asked. “Oh, I’m sorry. This is Nathan Carter.”

The man looked at him oddly for a moment as Nathan extended his hand.

“Son of Thomas and Annie Carter?”

“You knew my parents?”

“Why, I’ll be damned.” He shook his hand. “The last time I saw you was when you were three years old.”

“How did you know my parents?”

“Your mother and I were best friends. We grew up together.”

“My mother grew up in Maine?”

“Yes. You didn’t know that?”

“No. I didn’t.”

“She loved it here.”

“Why did she leave?”

“Because your daddy came in and swept her off her feet.” Linden smiled.

“But my father grew up in Los Angeles.”

“I know. He was here with his family on vacation when they met. It was love at first sight. How can you not know any of this?”

“Because my father never spoke about my mother. He wouldn’t. And every time I would ask a question about her, he told me that it didn’t matter because she was gone.”

My heart broke when I heard him say that because I could hear the sadness in his voice.

“Do you know where the land is that Mr. Winslow purchased from my father?”

“I do. It’s right next to my farm and vineyard.” He smiled. “If you’re finished, I’ll take you there, and don’t worry about paying. It’s on the house.”

“Thank you, but I insist,” Nathan spoke as he pulled out his wallet.

“No. Put your wallet away, son. It’s on me.”