Lynn Montagano - Unravel Me

Smoothing down his tie, he leaned forward. The unflinching gaze he locked on me froze my blood. I sipped my sparkling wine, waiting for his response.

“I want to apologize. For everything. The fight when you thought you were pregnant. The Black and White Ball. Waiting in your apartment. I realize that I wasn’t the best version of myself when we were together. You deserved better from me.”

Dumbfounded, I stared at him. This wasn’t the first time he’d apologized. I had a mental rolodex of remorseful statements he’d professed over the past two years. Something about this one unnerved me. Sincerity reflected deeply in his eyes. Clutching the cloth napkin on my lap, I wet my lips. My instincts remained on high alert.

“I’m going to take that at face value and say thank you,” I said slowly. “Why are you saying this now?”

Settling back into his chair, he shrugged. His eyes coasted over the diamond necklace resting on my neck.

“Holden give you that?”

I stiffened. “Yes.”

He smirked. “A bit understated for a media mogul, no?”

“Some people don’t have a need to flaunt their wealth. You should try it.”

“Don’t underestimate him, Lia. He’s worth billions and controls Britain’s top media enterprise. Now that they’re buying up stations here, he’s going to be more conscious of who he allows into his inner circle. He may not be flashing his cash with cars and jewelry but he is in other ways. If you don’t believe it, you’re not paying close enough attention.”

The palms of my hands ached from my nails digging into the skin.

“I’m not telling you this to hurt you or start a fight,” he continued. “I know his type. The Holden family name rests upon his decisions now. It’s a huge burden. One false step and the empire goes down the drain.”

Nausea rolled through my stomach as the server arrived and placed our appetizers on the table. Nathan leisurely reached for an oyster, enjoying it without a care in the world. I refused to let myself become consumed with his words.

“You don’t know anything about him.”

“Did you tell him where I worked and where I’d be on the day he showed up unannounced?”

A harsh breath pushed out of my mouth.

“Exactly,” he stated. “That Brit has just as many, if not more, resources than I do.”

The annoying, self-gratifying grin on his face drove me mad. Bastard .

“Stalking is your territory, not his. Don’t lump him into the same low-life category as you just because he sucker punched you.”

I’d defend Alastair until I took my last breath. An overwhelming emptiness filled me. I missed him. I wanted him here, not thousands of miles away.

“He’s lucky I’m not a petty man. I could have reported him for aggravated assault.”

Nathan’s voice clung to me like barbed wire. His dark blue irises slid over my face. Reaching across the table, he lifted my hand. His touch made me cringe but I couldn’t make a move. Too many eyes casually watched us and if I made it look like there was about to be an ‘event’ they’d whip out their smartphones without hesitation.

“You know how this works, Sparkle. I vetted you long before asking you on our first date. I didn’t do it because I got off on having that kind of power. I did it to protect my family name.”

“So, the stalking and the jealousy and the possessiveness were an added bonus?”

Narrowing his eyes slightly, Nathan squeezed my hand. “Do you have any idea how rare and special you are? A woman like you doesn’t come around more than once in a man’s life. I did what I had to do to keep you in mine.”

“And look how that ended,” I snickered.

Pain and regret ravaged his face. I was so used to Alastair’s stony façade I’d forgotten how expressive Nathan could be. A twinge of guilt spread through me conflicting wildly with the general feeling of disgust I’d had since he called me. This whole dinner meeting felt strange, more like an act of contrition than business. But why? What did Nathan have to gain by being so forthcoming with me? An image of him punching the wall inches away from my head hijacked my mind. A sliver of terror streaked through me. I pulled my hand away from him. Contrite or not, he could be dangerous when he wanted. Reaching for the ceviche, I pushed aside my anxiety.

“So what’s this exclusive story you have?”

He grinned. “Business already? We haven’t ordered our main dishes yet. Patience. I’ll tell you.”

“You’ll tell me now or this dinner ends. I’ve spent more than enough time listening to your bullshit.”

“I realize you’re angry,” he murmured. “I thought this could be the beginning of a healing process. For both of us.”

“What’s in it for you?” My brain was fried. I knocked back the rest of the Prosecco in one gulp.

“Your trust.” He grasped my hand again.

His admission left me speechless. I couldn’t wrap my mind around this version of the man who’d made my life a living hell for two years. Well, not two whole years. He was rather charming and fun in the beginning. Oh my God, STOP IT . I was so confused. I wanted to believe he was truly sorry. I didn’t know why, exactly. Sitting with him, studying his expressions and demeanor, I had no reason to doubt the validity of anything he’d said. I wished I knew his motive. He always had one.

“Excuse me, Mr. Greyson?”

A petite, brunette woman stood next to our table. Nathan eyed her with mild interest. I snapped my hand away, aware our uninvited guest had seen it.

“Sorry to interrupt your dinner. I’m Rachel Jameson with—”

“I know who you are,” he cut her off. “Feel free to call my public relations department if you’re looking for an interview.”

“Oh, actually, that’s not why I’m here.” Rachel smiled widely, unaffected by Nathan’s curt manner. “I wanted to talk to your date.” She fixed an inquisitive stare on me, her chocolate eyes gleaming.

I knew who she was, too; a blogger for Orlando’s society pages. Dressed to kill in a fitted orchid maxi dress, she exuded the unflustered confidence a tabloid reporter needed to possess. Rachel was well known around the city and had stirred the pot on numerous occasions with her exposés. More succinctly put, she’d base most of her writings on assumption rather than fact.

“What do you want to talk to me about?” I tried to employ an impassive expression. Not sure if I succeeded. She’d referred to me as Nathan’s ‘date’ for a reaction. I wasn’t about to give her the satisfaction.

“I don’t want to intrude on your evening, Miss Meyers. Give me a call when you’re not busy.” Passing me her business card, she flashed a cunning smile. “Enjoy the rest of your date.”

I was beyond suspicious. She’d referred to this dinner as a ‘date’ twice. I broke out into a cold sweat. Nathan’s cell phone rang loudly, rattling my already shaky nerves. Excusing himself, he left the table to take the call.

Reaching for my own phone, an unsettled feeling crept into my bones. I scrolled through a few emails. There wasn’t anything from Alastair. It was late in Glasgow. He was probably asleep, although he’d been known to work well into the night. I sent him a quick text.

8:50pm Miss you xx

8:51pm Ditto, love x

My heart ached to be near him. What I wouldn’t give to go home and find him sprawled across my mattress.

8:53pm Remember, don’t pack anything when you fly here.

8:54pm Nothing?

8:55pm No. I’ll have everything you need. And maybe a surprise or two. x

Smiling, I put the phone away. The server came by to take our order but Nathan was still off on his phone call. I ordered yellowtail snapper for myself and a rib-eye steak for him. It was his favorite and I assumed he’d want it anyway. He didn’t return to the table until our entrées arrived.