Our Way

I smile. “I’m glad you’ve changed and are now so empathetic. This is a real improvement, Nathan. This will be great for your new relationships going forward.”

He glares at me and I think I have a new favorite hobby—goading Nathan Mercer is fun.

Come on, fight me. I dare you.

I take my money from my purse and put it onto the table. “It was lovely seeing you.”

He narrows his eyes.

I put my hand out to shake his, and he squeezes it so hard, he nearly breaks my fingers.

“Have a safe trip home,” I say.

“I will.” His eyes hold mine. “Have a nice life.”

“I will.” I smile sweetly.

We walk out the door, and into the street, and he turns toward me. “Got anything you want to say to me?” he asks.

“Goodbye.” I smile.

I turn to walk down the street, and I close my eyes with pride.

I did it. I stuck to my guns.

* * *

The table all erupts into laughter, and I snort my drink up my nose. It’s been the best night. We had dinner and are now sitting around a large table in a busy cocktail bar.

There are twenty-seven of us in total–mostly people I work with and a few of their husbands. I’m going to miss these guys.

“Oh Lord, have fucking mercy.” Louise gasps. “Look at that fine specimen at the bar.”

We all glance over to see who’s she talking about, and my mouth drops open.

Nathan, my Nathan, is standing at the bar.

What the hell is he doing here?

“Holy shit, he’s ridiculous,” Annie says. “Do you reckon he’s a model or something?”

The girls all sit and stare at him with a running commentary on what he could do to them.

He’s standing against the bar with his elbows resting on it as he talks to the barman. He’s wearing black jeans that fit in all the right places, his tight ass firmly in view and a black shirt that shows off every inch of his broad shoulders. His strong forearms are bare and displaying his designer chunky silver watch. His hair is messed up to perfection and, God, the girls are completely right. He looks fucking hot.

“Actually, I know him,” I announce.

“What?” They all gasp.

“He’s my friend from San Fran. His name is Nathan.”

“What the hell?” Annie hits me on the leg. “Go… bring him to us!” she demands.

I giggle as I stand and go to the bar.

He turns toward me as I approach him, “Eliza.” His gaze drops to my toes and back up to my face. “What are you doing here?”

“I was just about to ask you the same thing.”