I turned my focus back to my newspaper, knowing I wasn’t even supposed to be listening to Natalie’s conversation with her friend anyway. That’s why I had purposely seated myself at a separate table. In order to do my job right, I was suppose
d to blend into the background and keep watch from afar.
I needed to get back into a professional state-of-mind, especially after what had happened between us. The first time, had been permissible, but the second time hadn’t…
The night of the attempted assassination on her father, Natalie had been vulnerable. She had been desperate for a distraction, and in need of comfort. I tried to keep this in mind every time I thought about her touch and the feel of her skin—every night I found myself longing to go to her bedroom and take her again.
“Here’s your refill, sir.”
My thoughts were interrupted when the waiter came back with more coffee. “Thank you,” I said.
I glanced toward Natalie and her friend. They had grown relatively quiet as they finished the last of their lunches. Natalie met my gaze again just briefly before looking away.
She doesn’t really want me, I thought to myself, trying desperately to ignore how much that thought hurt. I’m nothing but a quick fix to her whenever the mood hits. She is not worth losing my job over.
At least that’s what I kept telling myself.
I took a sip of my coffee, which suddenly tasted bitter in my mouth. I had to admit, I’d been guilty of using women as quick fixes before. Yet now, I doubted I’d ever be able to comfortably do so again—not after Natalie. It was no fun being on the other side of such treatment.
Natalie and her friend stood from their table and hugged each other.
“Thank you so much for coming to lunch with me,” Natalie said.
“Any time. And please, keep me posted on what’s going on with you, all right?”
“I will.”
Natalie watched her friend walk out of the diner, and looked towards me. “I’ll be right back,” she said. I nodded as she retreated to the ladies’ room.
I finished my coffee and sat back in my chair with a sigh, thinking about how being assigned to the Finley’s had become hardest job I’d ever worked. Not even my time in the army compared.
When Natalie returned, I left a few dollars on the table for a tip. “You ready?” I asked, standing and looking towards the door rather than at her. It was becoming increasingly more difficult each day to look her in the eyes and not feel simultaneously torn between wanting to kiss her and wanting to leave her to focus only on my career.
“Yeah. You mind taking me to the library?” she asked, looking slightly agitated. She missed the days when she could study in the library of her own home.
I nodded. “All right. Let’s go.”
* * *
Regularly sitting in the library watching Natalie study for her BAR exam wasn’t exactly the most exciting thing in the world, to say the least. So in an attempt to entertain myself, I found a book to read. Yet, after settling into a chair on the opposite side of the room from her, I fell asleep before even getting through the first chapter.
Ever since moving into the safe-house with Natalie, sleep hadn’t been easy to come by. I stayed on alert, checking the premises to make sure everything was in proper order.
“Natalie Finley?”
Someone called her name. I jerked awake, my eyes immediately zooming in on a young man walking toward her, a smile on his face.
I leaned forward, ready to spring into action at any second if necessary.
Natalie looked up from her book, her eyes widening. “Joey?”
I felt somewhat relieved that the man was someone she knew, although that relief was short-lived and quickly replaced with all-consuming jealousy. There was something intimate about how they looked at one another, and once he was close enough to her, my suspicions were confirmed. He wrapped her into a hug, his arms curling low on her waist and looking as if he didn’t want to let her go. He kissed her cheek. “It’s been forever,” he said.
“It has,” she agreed, giving him a smile that made my stomach tie up in fucking knots.
“What’s been going on with you?”
My jealousy further reared its head when the man took a seat at her table. I couldn’t take my eyes away from him, sizing him up. He looked around Natalie’s age, and I supposed he was handsome—with his shoulder-length hair and neatly trimmed goatee. He had a slim build, and I shamefully imagined how easy it would be to knock him the hell out.