Page 22 of How Freaking Romantic

My laugh is so loud that a few people nearby turn their heads to look at us. Nathan doesn’t care; he’s smiling down at me, his eyes dancing with amusement.

I want to ask him how he does it—how he turns off this person who smiles and listens and jokes and becomes that other person who doesn’t mind taking money from heartbroken people who need someone to listen and care.

But it feels too close to that place that we somehow agreed not to go.

An unspoken truce that keeps this working relationship in play.

So instead I just let my laughter fade and shake my head. “You’re an asshole.”

We forget about Mrs. Goodridge then. In fact, we forget about almost everything. The room feels like it falls away as the conversation flows, the push and the pull that seems to settle naturally when we’re together.

We’re halfway through our second glass of champagne when Nathan’s eyes fixate on someone behind me.

“There’s Marcie,” he says.

I turn to see Marcie Land standing just across the room.

I don’t know how I missed her before. She’s almost as tall as Nathan, and her long dark hair is the only thing that mutes her bright orange-and-white silk caftan.

Two men in suits are talking to her, but she looks bored; she’s glancing away from them as they talk, her eyes skimming the crowd until they find Nathan, and she smiles.

A moment later she’s saying something to her companions, then she turns and starts moving toward us.

“Oh God.” I whip back around to face Nathan, eyes wide. “Distract me.”

He frowns. “What?”

“I need you to distract me.”

“Why?”

“Because if I’m distracted by something really dumb or offensive, I can’t get nervous, and you’re really good at saying things that are dumb and offensive, so…” I shrug like the conclusion here is obvious.

He seems to be mulling it over as he glances past me to where I know Marcie is approaching.

“Something to distract you,” he murmurs.

“Yes.”

He leans in close to my ear. “What do you think would have happened if your neighbor hadn’t interrupted us that night outside your building?”

I’m struck dumb for a moment before a wave of rage rolls under my skin. He watches as it blooms across my face, smiling that goddamn smile that is so annoyingly perfect I want to scream.

“I can’t believe you just went there, you smug—”

“Nate!” Marcie’s voice cuts me off as she arrives between us and embraces Nathan in a hug.

“Marcie,” he replies as she pulls away.

“What are you doing here? You never come to these things,” she says, sweeping her dark hair behind her shoulder. Marcie is well over sixty but carries herself as if age is an abstract concept, something that doesn’t apply to her.

“I have to show up sometimes, or how would you know to miss me?”

She laughs. “I assure you, love, I don’t miss you regardless.” She sees me then and does a quick audit of my face, as if she’s trying to place me in her memory. “And who’s this?”

“Marcie, this is Beatrice Nilsson. She came into my office recently and tried to nail my balls to the side of the building.”

My mouth falls open and my eyes dart to Nathan. He only stares back, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes.

There’s a moment of silence, then Marcie’s head falls back as she laughs.

“That is the best thing I’ve heard all night,” she says, cackling. “Beatrice, you’re officially my new favorite person.”

Relief loosens my chest and I offer her a smile. “It’s just Bea.”

“Bea,” Marcie repeats. “Well, I’m glad Nate found a woman who gives him as much shit as he deserves.”

Both Nathan and I shake our heads, motioning vaguely between one another.

“Oh, no. No, no,” I say with a scoff.

“Bea is a colleague,” Nathan continues. “And about to graduate from NYU Law. She’s the TA for that Conflict Resolution course I took over for Frank.”

Marcie turns to me again. “You’re a teaching assistant for Frank Landry?”

I nod. “For the past year.”

“My lord, you deserve an honorary degree just for that,” Marcie says, and laughs again. Then she turns back to Nathan. “How’s that going, by the way?”

“Good,” he replies. It’s an answer that reveals nothing.

“Good? I would have run screaming after the first day.” Marcie rolls her eyes. “Teaching is not for everybody.”

Nathan smiles that lawyer smile, a mask to hide whatever the hell he’s really thinking. If he’s embarrassed or if there’s something else that prompted it. Regardless, I find myself opening my mouth.

“Nathan’s fantastic at it.”

They both turn to look at me. Nathan betrays a half second of surprise, while Marcie smiles.

“Is that so?” she says.

I know I’ve already said too much, but I also can’t seem to stop. “I just mean, most of my professors are there to do a job and leave, but Nathan really listens to his students. And he teaches in a way that helps them understand the concepts in a practical way. He’s doing an incredible job.”

Marcie’s smile broadens as she steals a glance at Nathan. “Well. Can’t say I’m surprised.”

I feel Nathan’s eyes on me, but I don’t turn to meet his gaze. I’m scared of what I might see.

“So, tell me, Bea,” Marcie continues. “What’s your concentration?”

“Healthcare rights. I graduate in May.”

Her eyebrows bob up at that. “Do you have anything lined up after that?”

“I’m still exploring my options,” I say, hoping the words mask my desperation. “I’d like to stay in New York and join a private practice. Somewhere I can get some experience with pharmaceutical litigation.”

Marcie nods, an absent gesture as she seems to assess me again. “Looking to make the fuckers pay, then.”

I let out a nervous laugh. “Something like that, yes.”

The corner of her mouth turns up in a cagey grin. That must have been the right answer. “When do you take the bar?”

“July.”

“If I don’t press charges,” Nathan says offhandedly.

I shoot him a sharp smile. “The judge would agree with me.”

Marcie laughs again, delighted. “Hold on to this one, Nate.”

He looks down at me, and that half smile appears from behind the lip of his champagne glass just before he takes a sip.

I’ve seen that smile before, but this time it sends a rush of heat to my cheeks, and I have to dart my gaze away.

It lands on Marcie. She studies my face for a moment, then glances between us, as if trying to decipher a code that she might have missed before.

When she doesn’t seem to find it, she brings her attention back squarely to me.

“We should get together and talk some more. I’ll get your information from Nate and have my office reach out. ”

My mouth falls open, but it takes a moment before words come out. “That would be amazing, thank you.”

Marcie nods even as she looks past me, smiling and waving at someone who just arrived.

“Fucking Simonsen,” she murmurs under her breath. “All right, I have to go talk to him so he doesn’t follow me around like a goddamn puppy all night. It was nice to meet you, Bea. We’ll talk soon. Nate, finish your drink before you sneak out of here. It’s expensive.”

Then she kisses his cheek and is gone.

Nathan and I watch her leave, and the hum of the surrounding conversations disappears under the weight of the silence between us.

It’s a long moment before I look up at him again.

His eyes are on me, too, but the usual sharp edge of his expression is gone, and a specific kind of warmth has replaced it.

I try to say something, assign words to the conflicted thoughts running through my mind.

But I only stand there with my mouth agape and my brow furrowed.

He finally cocks his head to the side and throws me a lifeline. “Want to get out of here?”