Page 51 of I Could Be Yours

CHAPTER 15

NATE

“Thanks for coming over.” I usher Essie into my apartment.

We’ve been back in Toronto for three days. In another three we get on a plane to Aruba for Rix and Tristan’s wedding. Do we really need to meet to go over the plan? Nope. Did I just want a reason to see Essie so she can push my buttons? Maybe.

“It’s a whole lot neater than it was when Rix lived here,” Essie remarks.

“I like things tidy,” I admit.

“Most of the time, anyway.” She winks. “We’re both messy eaters.”

I hook my finger into her belt loop and pull her to me. “I could use a snack.”

She laughs and covers my mouth with her palm. “Work first, play later.”

“Play first, work later sounds like more fun,” I say from behind her hand.

She widens her eyes and takes my face in her palms, turning my head this way and that. “Who are you, and what have you done with Nathan Stiles?”

“Ha-ha.” I slip a hand under her shirt. “Just let me play with your nipple piercings for a minute.”

She grins coyly and catches my hand with hers. “First we discuss the itinerary, then my nipples are yours to play with.” She spins out of my reach and hops up onto a stool at the kitchen island.

“Where’s fun Essie when I need her?” I grumble.

She pats the stool beside her. “Come on. The sooner we get this done, the sooner you’ll have access to fun Essie.”

I sigh but do as she asks while she opens her tablet and pulls up her itinerary. I bring the spreadsheet up on my laptop so we can compare notes. “I didn’t want to fill the pre-wedding days with too much stuff, so we only have one or two projected activities each day, with a potential cost breakdown. I tried to keep the budget reasonable for Rix’s peace of mind, but Tristan gave me a float to work with that I can run everything through on my end, especially for people like me and Dred who aren’t making the big bucks.”

“You must do okay, though.” She works on a popular TV show, and her apartment, while small, is nice.

“Oh yeah, but the resort is high end, and you know how Rix worries. It’ll take time before she can really settle into this life, and Tristan gets that. We just want this to be as stress-free as possible for her.” She taps the column with the totals. “I’m trying to keep it balanced, so each person is allocated a daily spend.”

The version of her I thought I knew was completely inaccurate. Yes, she’s a pink princess-loving woman who is always polished, and she’s still the life of the party. But that’s only a little slice of her. She’s not two-dimensional. Essie is smart, determined, creative and considerate. “You have a great mind for numbers. You could easily run your own business if you wanted.”

Her eyes flare, maybe with surprise. “Maybe one day, but right now I’m honing my craft and building my skills and my industry knowledge. I’d have to pick a niche and I’m not ready to narrow it down quite yet.” She props her chin on her fist. “How’s the skate prototype coming?”

“Good. Great. We’re trying to get the blade exactly right for the best friction and speed.”

“How do you figure that out?”

“There are a bunch of formulas we use; some of it can be boring and repetitive. Lots of testing and trial and error. It’s probably the same for you too,” I say.

“It can be when I’m putting the same makeup on the same person day after day, but then we’ll have a cool episode with a guest appearance, or I get to work on something in fantasy and it changes things up, makes it exciting again.”

Her passion for what she does is written on her face. I hate that I put her in a box and gave her a label she didn’t deserve. She’s the one who reached out to me when the wedding planning started. She tolerated my assholery, met it with a smile, even. “You’re incredible,” I blurt.

She laughs and looks away, brushing away the compliment. “In bed.”

“Don’t.” I skim the edge of her jaw, urging her to look at me. “Don’t do that.”

Her face softens. “I’m used to people telling me I’m pretty, not that I’m smart.”

“Well, you’re both, so you should own them equally.”

“So are you.” Her fingers skim the back of my hand.

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