When I looked up, Nate was stepping out of the car that had just arrived, and weirdly, he was soaked. Not slightly dampbut completely drenched. He was still in his suit, so he hadn’t just been for a swim in the building’s pool or something equally sensible.
His dark jacket clung to his shoulders, water dripping from his hair onto the carpeted floor. The expression on his face looked carved from stone again, much sharper than usual, but there was something else underneath it.
Fatigue. Or distraction. Maybe both.
For a second, we just stared at each other. Normally, this would’ve been the part where one of us delivered a cutting remark. A jab. A territorial glare, but neither of us seemed to be in the mood.
“Rough night?” I asked finally, tilting my head as I took in the state of him.
His gaze slid over me but without his customary hostility. “Something like that.”
Oddly, his voice was different, still controlled and deep enough to carry authority, but it lacked the usual edge, sounding almost like he was either just too tired or too drained to sharpen it.
“You do know a thing called an umbrella has been invented, right? Nifty little tool. Keeps a person from getting wet when it’s raining out.”
His mouth twitched, not quite into a smile. In fact, even the twitch itself was barely there, but I’d still noticed it. “I’m aware.”
I nodded, saying nothing.
“Are you heading out?” he asked after a few beats of strangely peaceful silence between us.
“Yeah. I’m having my nails done before the big dinner.”
“When are your parents flying in?”
“Tomorrow afternoon,” I said. “That’s why I figured I’d get this out of the way tonight.”
He nodded, his gaze dropping to the floor before lifting again. “Okay, then. I’ll see you at dinner.”
His tone was completely neutral. Polite, even. There was no challenge or underlying tension, and that unsettled me more than our usual sparring ever had.
Without another word, he brushed past me down the hallway and I stepped into the elevator before I could overanalyze the exchange. In the end, I did it for the whole ride over to the nail salon anyway.
I’d hoped that the familiar scent of acetone and lavender, the hum of dryers, and the quiet chatter around me would snap me out of it once I arrived. Normally, this was my reset button, forty-five minutes of forced stillness while someone sculpted my nails to perfection, but tonight, my mind refused to cooperate.
I kept replaying that moment in the hallway, wondering why it had felt so wrong that we hadn’t glared at each other. There hadn’t even been one tiny little barb exchanged, which was so odd it was almost disturbing.
“Square or almond?” the technician asked.
“Almond,” I said automatically, staring down at my hands while she worked.
My phone buzzed beside me and I ignored it at first, assuming it was work. When it buzzed again, I glanced at the screen to see a notification for a new email, just the name of the sender instantly calming my racing mind.
My pulse sped up before I even opened it, the familiar anticipation, ridiculous and electric, instantly flaring. The message was short today, the signoff direct and unlike anything he’d ever sent me before.
We need to meet. We just need to do it.
My stomach dipped. Messages from him always made me feel weightless and excited, safe even, but this felt different. Almost… final.
A pinch of anxiety lodged behind my ribs as I stared at the words. The technician glanced up at me. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” I said quickly, locking my phone and forcing a smile. “Just work.”
But the unease lingered, threading through the rest of the appointment, dull and persistent like an approaching storm you could feel in your bones long before the first drop of rain. By the time I got back to my apartment, twilight had bled into evening, the city lights flickering alive outside my windows.
I dropped my purse onto the entry table and kicked off my heels, rolling my shoulders to release tension that refused to fully loosen. Everything had been going right. The deal was solid. My parents were arriving soon. My timeline for getting back to New York had been fast-tracked.
So why does it feel like something is shifting under my feet?
