Taking the Plunge (15 page)

He stood up, leaving her on the bed alone. She watched him look through his suitcase until he pulled out his suit, which hung on a hanger. “I suggest you leave otherwise you’re going to get a show.”

She didn’t want to
go. She wanted to see his body, but she forced herself to return to her room, closing the door behind her. He knocked a moment later.

“Come in.”

He stepped inside, holding a dress. “Please wear this tonight.”

It was royal blue and made of silk. It was casual but dressy at the same time.

“You got that for me?”

He shrugged. “It reminded me of you.”

“Please don’t buy me things.”

“Too late.”

She looked at him, seeing him wearing a suit like he owned the entire hotel. The black color made him look sexy and tall. She wanted to grab his tie and pull his mouth to hers. Nancy shook the thought away. “I’ll get dressed.”

He nodded then left the room.

When she was ready, she walked through the door without knocking. “I’m ready.”

He stared at her, examining every curve of her body. His hand reached out and touched her waist, feeling her gently. “You look stunning.”

She reached up to tuck her hair behind her ear, but he stopped her.

“Don’t be nervous around me.”

“Stop making me nervous.”

He came close to her face, his lips almost touching hers. “If I wanted to make you nervous, this is what I would do.”

She wanted to close the gap and press her warm mouth over his, feeling his hot breath fill her mouth. “Please don’t kiss me.”

He grabbed her waist and pressed his face close to hers. “I keep my word, Nancy. I won’t kiss you unless you ask me to. You can trust me.”

“But you’re trying to get me to kiss you.”

“Is it working?” he asked with a smile.

She stepped away and headed toward the door. “Let’s go.”

He sighed then followed her. They took a cab to
the small restaurant near the center of the city. As soon as they walked inside, Nancy felt anxious. It was the fanciest restaurant she had ever been to.

Thatcher pulled out the chair for her then sat across from her. When she looked at him, she couldn’t help but notice how beautiful he was. If she had to choose an ideal man, one that she found innately attractive, she would describe Thatcher perfectly. He was sexy, smart, beautiful, artistic, free, mature,
perfect.

The waiter came over and Thatcher spoke to him in French.

The waiter nodded then walked away.

She raised an eyebrow. “You speak French?”

“Yes.”

She waited for him to elaborate. He acted like it wasn’t a big deal. “Where did you learn?”

“I lived in Paris for two years while I painted. I picked up the language quickly.”

“Wow. I didn’t know that.”

“Why would you?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. Why do you live in Hawaii?”

“It’s where I grew up. Despite all the places I’ve been to, I keep coming back there. The sand, the warmth, the people always make me return. I feel isolated from the rest of the world. I enjoy it.”

“Did you love Paris?”

“It was beautiful. I’ll take you next time I go.”

“You go there often?”

“In the off season so it isn’t so crowded. It’s very romantic and cultured. I think you would enjoy it.”

“Were you alone the whole time?”

“No. I met my fiancé there.”

“Oh.”

“We were together the entire time. When she ended our relationship I moved back to Hawaii, knowing there was nothing left for me there anymore.”

“I’m sorry.”

“There’s no reason to be sorry,” he said calmly.

“Are you still friends?”

He shrugged. “We’re friendly. Sometimes she calls me, but that’s on very rare occasions, like the holidays or my birthday.”

“Is it hard to talk to her knowing she left you?”

“No. I’m happy for her.”

“How can you be so—calm about it?”

He stared at her. “I don’t understand your question.”

“Should
n’t you hate her? Despise her?”

“No. She never cheated on me and she was always honest about her feelings. And being angry doesn’t help the situation. It just causes you more pain. I would rather spend my life being happy than holding grudges against people. I couldn’t force her to be with me.”

“Then why are you forcing me?”

He drank from his wine glass. “Did I force you to take the job?”

“No.”

“Did I force you to spend an entire weekend with me, alone?”

She swallowed the lump in her throat. “No.”

“Did I force you make that painting of me?”

“No.”

“Then no, I’m not forcing you to do anything. You choose to be in this situation. You choose to be with me. Don’t blame this on me.”

The waiter brought their food and interrupted the conversation. Thatcher conversed with the waiter in French before the man walked away.

Thatcher looked at her. “I apologize for ordering for you, but the menu is in French and I didn’t want you to stress about it. The selection I picked is very good. You’ll like it.”

“As long as it isn’t snail.”

He smiled. “No, it isn’t.”

They ate their meal quietly. Nancy watched him eat with perfect manners. He was refined, cultured, and calm. When they fell silent, it wasn’t awkward. She didn’t feel like she needed to carry a conversation just to avoid the silence. He felt the same way. When they were finished with their meals, Thatcher leaned back in his chair and stared at her, blatantly gawking at the features of her face. The intensity of his look didn’t frighten her. She studied his face in just as much detail, particularly his lips.

After they left the restaurant, they took a cab back to their hotel. Thatcher grabbed her hand and held it like he always did. She didn’t pull away, loving the feel of his large warm fingers on her.

They walked to their room then Thatcher stopped in front of her door.

He placed his hands in his pockets while he looked down at her. “I’ll be in my room if you need me.”

“Good night.”

“And my door will be unlocked if you decide to join me.”

She looked into his eyes, searching for the meaning in his words.

He leaned in and pressed his lips into her hair, not kissing her but holding her close. “Goodnight.” He pulled away then walked into his room.

After she went inside, she climbed into bed wearing her pajamas but she kept thinking about Thatcher in the next room. It would be nice to sleep with him, feeling his warm body next to hers. But she controlled her emotions and forced herself to fall asleep, knowing she could never do that. She felt more confused than she ever had.

She wanted
to give Derek a real chance. Nancy said she would and she believed that he’d really changed, but then Thatcher came into her life, someone she wished she’d met first.

Her phone vibrated on her nightstand.

Baby, I just want you to know that I’m thinking about you. I miss you.

Nancy didn’t know what to say. She was just thinking about Thatcher and felt like a horrible person because of it. Her phone lit up again but it wasn’t Derek.

Take the plunge even if you can’t see the bottom. It’s there. We’ll find it together.

Unsure what to do, she turned off her phone and went to sleep.

16

When she went to the art gallery with Thatcher, she felt like she was with Mick
Jagger from the Rolling Stones. Everyone made excuses to talk to him, complement his work, and even ask for his autograph.

Thatcher was humble
, and politely conversed with everyone who showed him attention.

“Thank you,” he said with a smile. “That means a lot to me.”

“Do you have new piece on display?” the woman asked.

“I’m actually showcasing another artist.”

“Really?” she said in surprised. “He must be talented to catch your notice. I’ll have to take a look.” She walked away after shaking his hand.

Nancy looked at him. “What is she talking about?”

He wrapped his arm around her waist and led her to the next painting. “You’ll see.” He looked at the artwork. “I like this. What do you think?”

She looked at it. “It’s sad.”

“Yeah. It is.”

“
But I like it.”

He led her to the next piece. The artist prac
tically fainted when she saw Thatcher looking at her painting. Thatcher nodded to her. “Wonderful.”

“Thank—thank you.”

Nancy smiled at her and they continued on.

She enjoyed looking at the artwork with him. They didn’t always speak, but she felt they agreed on everything wordlessly.

“My lifetime goal is to visit every major art gallery in the world,” he said.

“Really?”

“Yeah,” he said.

“That’s an amazing goal.”

“We should do it together. It would fun.”

She smiled at him then drifted to the next painting. She tried to dissipate the obvious heat and desire between them. It wasn’t working very well. When they moved further to the back, she gasped.

“Thatcher, why are my paintings here?”

“I brought them,” he said as he grabbed her hand and led her forward.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I knew you would say no.”

“Damn right, I would. This is your event. This is about you.”

“And I’m passing the torch to you.”

A small crowd was gathered around her paintings, whispering to one another while they pointed at the details. She was so nervous, her palms started to sweat.

“Don’t be nervous,” he said into her ear. He approache
d the front and pulled her alongside him.

“How much?” one elderly woman said.

“I’m sorry,” Thatcher said. “They aren’t for sale.”

She raised an eyebrow.
“50k for this one.”

Nancy almost fainted. A woman just offered a fortune for her beach picture.

Thatcher smiled. “I’m sorry. None of them are for sale.”

“100K.”

“I’m sorry,” he repeated.

“Who is this artist?
Erikson? I’ve never heard of him.”

Thatcher pushed Nancy forward.
“Because he is a she. And she’s new.”

The woman looked at Nancy and extended her hand. “It’s an honor to meet you.”

Nancy smiled. “You too.”

The woman asked Nancy a million questions about the pa
inting. After a few minutes, Nancy had a crowd of people listening to her. Thatcher moved away and stood in the back, right in her line of sight. When she got nervous, she looked at him, taking courage in the calmness of his eyes. She never had so much attention on her. Everyone seemed fascinated with her and her artwork. She was overcome with happiness.

By the end of the night, she had twenty different offers for the painting. She turned them all down since Thatcher was the owner of her work.
When they were taking apart the stands, Thatcher grabbed the paintings and placed them in a protective box.

“I
told you that you were talented,” Thatcher said.

“I can’t believe you did that,” she said.

“I can.”

“Thank you.”

He smiled at her. “I’m glad you appreciate it. Let’s head back.”

He brought the paintings back to the hotel and they walked into his room. She was high from the night of her success. All those people thought she was talented, inspirational. It was unbelievable.

Thatcher grabbed her and brought her to his chest, holding her while he swayed from side to side, dancing with her.

“What are you doing?”
she asked

“Dancing.”

“There’s no music.”

“I can hear it. Can’t you?”

“No.”

“Hmm.”
He held her close while he looked into her eyes, making her feel faint from the intensity of emotion. Thatcher gave her everything that she needed. He was so perfect, it was surreal. In the short amount of time she had come to know him, he had broken down all her walls, seeing her for exactly who she was. He knew everything about her, things she never even told Sydney. Against her will, she had fallen for him. She had to stop this. It was wrong. She pulled away, crossing her arms over her chest. “I can’t do this anymore.”

He dropped his hands to his sides, staring into her eyes. “Can’t do what
, exactly?”

“This.”

“What’s this?”

“I can’t work for you anymore. I can’t see you every day.”

“You’re breaking up with me?”

“We can’t break up. We aren’t together.”

“Yes, we are.”

She stepped back. “I’m sorry. Whatever this is, it’s over.”

He placed his hands in his pockets, looking calm. “Tell me why you stay with him.”

She sighed. “He’s different.”

“Don’t give me that bullshit,” he snapped. “Be straight with me.”

She’
d never seen him get angry before. “He made mistakes but he’s finally become what I want him to be. I said I would work it out with him. I’m in a relationship. I can’t just walk away and run off with you.”

“Yes you can! You don’t owe that piece of shit anything.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It doesn’t matter if he’s changed, Nancy. He still hurt you, treated you like shit, and cheated on you. I know you’ve never had someone really love you, but that’s just unacceptable. I won’t let you settle for him just because you think you deserve it.”

“I’m not settling.”

“You are! You’re afraid to be with me because you think I’ll hurt you. You can deal with Derek hurting you because you don’t love him, but you
couldn’t handle it if I broke your heart. That’s the truth. Don’t deny it.”

She tucked her hair behind her ear and looked down.

“I don’t go after girls in relationships, honestly. That isn’t my style. I respect monogamy and a girl’s wishes. If you’re in love with him, happy with him, and he treats you right, it doesn’t matter how I feel. I’ll bow out. But that isn’t the case with you, Nancy. You aren’t in love with him, you aren’t happy with him, and you don’t trust him. You deserve to be with me, the better man. My fiancé left me because she loved someone else. I respected that decision and left her in peace. Believe me, I’m not a fighter. But with you, I can’t give up.

“When I saw you on that beach, I knew I had to be with you. Moments like those don’t happen for me. I’ve never
had a divine experience like that, where I saw your face and knew I had to cross your path, making up a story about losing my keys. Then when I saw your painting, realizing you were the same person, I knew then that we were meant to be together. I’m not a religious person, but I’m very spiritual. Our souls come from the same stem, our hearts from the same cells, because we are the same. If there is such a thing as soul mates, you are mine. I really believe that, Nancy. You’re just as in love with me as I am with you.”

“I never said that I loved you.”

“Because there was no need! I saw it in the painting you drew for me. You can’t stand there and lie to me. I see exactly what it is. You push me away but I’m not going to let you. I’m not going to let the most amazing, beautiful, perfect person end up with garbage, a man who cheats on her and has the nerve to beg for forgiveness.”

“He didn’t cheat on me.”

He shook his head. “Fucking another girl is cheating, Nancy. I don’t know how he talked his way out of that one.”

“He didn’t have sex with anyone else. He just flirted, signed their breasts, and licked the salt off their chests. It’s still horrible, but he didn’t cheat on me.”

He shook his head, his eyes hollowing. “He lied to you.”

“What?”

He sighed then ran his fingers through his hair. “I didn’t know you didn’t know. I—I didn’t want to be the one to tell you that. I thought you knew.”

She felt her heart race in her chest. “What are you talking about?”

“The night of the surf competition, he fucked some girl. I know about it because the guys told me.”

She shook her head, feeling the blood pound in her ears. “No, you’re wrong.”

“Nancy, I want you to leave Derek and be with me, but I would never lie to make that happen. I wish I was wrong.”

“Derek is one of my closest friends. He wouldn’t lie to me.”

He sighed, the sadness creeping into his face. “I’m sorry.”

She turned around and wrapped her arms around her waist. “Derek is an asshole. I admit he’s done horrible things, but he isn’t a liar. He wouldn’t do that to me, to anyone.”

Thatcher rested his hands on her shoulders. “Talk to him.”

She stepped away.

“This is proof that you don’t belong with him, Nancy. You’re in love with me, spending the weekend with me, but you still won’t make a move. He doesn’t deserve you. You’re too good for him.”

She left the room then slammed the door behind her, locking it.

Thatcher didn’t reach for the door and she felt relieved with the privacy. She turned on the shower then sat under the falling water. Her thoughts echoed in her head. Derek wouldn’t do that. He couldn’t. Nancy couldn’t believe he would lie to her face like that. It wasn’t possible. He might lie to someone else, some other bimbo, but he wouldn’t lie to her, his closest friend. She held herself tightly as the tears streamed down her face. She was scared that it was true, that Derek really did that. Tomorrow she would find out.