Page 16 of Rules Of Engagement: St. Louis (In The Heart of A Valentine #17)

Chapter

Ten

NAOMI

I was reorganizing my desk drawer for the third time this week when I found the business card I’d been looking for.

Dr. Caroline Mason, the psychiatrist who specialized in trauma therapy.

Journey had given me her number months ago, insisting I should talk to someone about Gerald and everything that came before him.

The card had been buried under old receipts and forgotten lip glosses, but there it was, pristine white with elegant black lettering.

I turned it over in my fingers, debating whether now was the time to make that call.

“Ms. Blackford? I have Mr. Nathan Bullard on line two. He’s requesting an appointment for Saturday, the twenty-eighth, but you’re marked as unavailable that day.”

I glanced at my calendar, confirming what I already knew.

Saturday the twenty-eighth was blocked off in red—my personal time, and I rarely gave that up for anyone.

But Nathan Bullard wasn’t just anyone. He was one of my most reliable clients.

He paid promptly, treated my girls with respect, and never caused drama.

“Put him through, Tamara.”

I straightened in my chair and picked up the phone, slipping into the smooth, professional tone that had built my reputation. “Nathan, good morning. How are you?”

“Naomi, I’m great. And I know you’re beautiful as always, I’m sure.” He paused. “Unfortunately, I’m calling with a problem.”

“What kind of problem?”

“There’s a very important gala coming up and I’m desperate to have the most stunning woman in St. Louis on my arm.”

I smiled. Nathan’s charm was cute, but it only convinced women that didn’t know he was putting on a show. “Unfortunately, I’m not available on the twenty-eighth. That day is blocked for personal time.”

“I know, and I’m sorry to even ask. But this is the Children’s Hospital benefit gala, it’s a black tie, very exclusive, and appearances matter. I need someone who can handle herself with the mayor’s wife and charm the pants off potential donors.”

“Literally or figuratively?”

His laugh was rich and warm. “Figuratively, of course. With you, however, either option would be memorable.”

I leaned back in my chair, twirling my pen between my fingers. “Nathan, you know I value our professional relationship. But my personal time is sacred.”

“I understand completely. And I wouldn’t ask if this weren’t crucial. This gala could open doors for my foundation that have been locked tight for years. Having you there would signal to everyone that I’m serious about this cause.”

“Because I’m such an excellent judge of character?”

“Because you’re sophisticated, intelligent, and stunning. The holy trinity of arm candy for men like me who need to impress other men like me.”

His honesty was refreshing, even if it was wrapped in his usual cockiness. Nathan never pretended our arrangement was about anything other than what it was—a business transaction that benefited both of us.

“The twenty-eighth is three weeks away,” I said, flipping through my calendar. “That’s very short notice for such an important event.”

“I know. My original plans fell through, and this was the only date that worked with everyone’s schedules. The governor’s going to be there, Naomi. The governor.”

“I’m impressed by your connections, but my answer remains the same.”

There was a pause, and I could practically hear the wheels turning in his head. Nathan was a negotiator by nature, so I braced myself for what he would come up with next.

“Don’t make me beg,” he said, his voice dripping with a velvet edge.

A smirk tugged at my lips. “Oh, Nathan. Don’t beg.”

“Then what will it take? Name your price.”

“Triple my usual rate.”

If Nathan wanted to disrupt my personal time for his benefit, he could pay handsomely for the privilege.

“Triple?” He sounded surprised but not offended. “That’s quite an increase.”

“That’s quite a request. Saturday nights are premium time, and you’re asking me to give up a day I’ve specifically set aside for myself.”

“And you’re worth every penny. You know I don’t mind paying for quality.”

“Is that what you call me? Quality?”

“I call you many things, most of which wouldn’t be appropriate for a business call.”

I rolled my eyes, but I was still smiling. “Your restraint is noted and appreciated.”

“So we have a deal? Triple rate for the most beautiful woman at the most important gala of the year?”

I pretended to consider it, yet we both knew I’d already made up my mind. Triple rate would more than compensate for giving up my Saturday, and Nathan’s events were always well-organized and drama-free.

“We have a deal. I’ll transfer you back to Tamara to handle the details.”

“Excellent. You won’t regret this, Naomi. I’ll make sure you have a wonderful time.”

“I always do with you, Nathan. You’re very good at what you do.”

“As are you, sweetheart. As are you.”

After I transferred him back to Tamara, I sat back in my chair and stared out at the city beyond my windows. Three weeks from Saturday, I’d be playing the role of devoted companion to a man who treated me well but would never see me as anything more than a beautiful accessory.

It was what I’d built my business on, what I was good at. So why did the thought leave me feeling empty?

My mind wandered, as it had been doing all morning, to this past Saturday’s encounter at the grocery store.

I wondered what Christian was doing right now. Probably in some conference room, negotiating contracts or reviewing briefs. Or maybe he was in his office, staring out his own windows and thinking about... what? Work? His family?

Me?

The thought sent a flutter through my heart that I tried to ignore.

Christian and I had our arrangement, just like Nathan and I had ours.

The difference was that with Nathan, I never forgot what we were to each other.

With Christian, the lines had started blurring so gradually that I hadn’t noticed until they were already gone.

My phone buzzed against my desk, and I glanced down to see his name on the screen. Christian.

My pulse quickened, and I stared at his name for a long moment, my thumb hovering over the answer button. As if thinking about him had somehow conjured his call.

The phone continued to ring, and I continued to stare, caught between wanting to hear his voice and knowing that talking to him would only make my confusion worse.

Ring. Ring. Ring.

And then, I answered.