Page 11 of The Fool

“Of course, I’ll go right now,” she says and turns almost immediately to begin walking away.

“Milk, no…” I trail off for she’s already turned the corner.

“Great first impression, Nate,” I mutter to myself.

Things did not improve after that first meeting, in fact, she only seemed to recoil from me more and more. She often had a vacant stare whenever I spoke to her, as if it wasn’t worth her time to listen to me. And she never, ever, got my coffee the way I like it.

Then, after months of this treatment, I remembered something – I’m the fucking boss here. I shouldn’t be trying to impress my PA; she should be making that effort for me. If she wants to treat me like an asshole with no manners, then that is what she’ll get. Alas, I can be a lot better at playing the evil boss, so word soon got to Cam and Ellie, my cousin who works a few floors down, about poor Beatrice Summers, and now I never hear the end of it. I guess hating her comes naturally to me.

With Beatrice Summers playing the victim in mind, I brace myself and open the front door, ready to receive the fallout for being Nate Carter, the baby of the family. The guy who is forever living in his perfect big brother’s shadow.

_____

Bea

On Sunday, I finally begin the arduous task of packing for my trip to London, a job I’ve been putting off in the hopes that it might get canceled. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve never been to London before, and part of me is excited to be going, but an even bigger part wants to avoid having to spend a whole week away with my boss. Nathaniel Carter plus two other guys I hardly know sounds like a recipe for a migraine all week. Admittedly, Sam, Nick Clayton’s PA, had at least come to introduce himself to me on Friday afternoon. He’s fairly new, and although he seems nice, I still don’t fancy having to share an apartment with him. Nick Clayton, on the other hand, is the Head of Technical Support. He is much like Nathaniel in that he seems to have no problem with getting plenty of female attention. He’s pale and has lighter brown hair than Nathaniel, but he’s just as tall and has that same panty-melting smile. Also, just like Nathaniel, he’s got a cocky way about him that lets you know he loves himself. I half wonder if he and Nathaniel get together to share tips on how to bag women. That being said, I do find him a lot more likable than Nathaniel, mainly because he doesn’t belittle me on a daily basis.

“Mom, what should I take to London?” I ask her on the speakerphone while I pack.

“Well, it’s summer over there so I guess similar sorts of stuff to what you would wear here,” she suggests. “Though, you might want to check their weather because I think they can have good summers and bad summers.”

“Good call,” I reply and begin to google the weather forecast. “High seventies and sunshine, good, good.”

“How’s Ben doing? Him and Leah still ok?” she asks casually.

“As far as I know. Judging by their ability to keep me up most nights, I would say they’re very much still in lust,” I mutter.

“Bea, a mother doesn’t really want to know that sort of information about her son…or daughters,” she says, sounding thoroughly unimpressed.

“Well neither does a sister but it appears I have no choice in the matter so suck it up. I’m taking you down with me.”

“Bea, sweetie?” Oh, I know that tone, it means she has something to say that will either require me to do something or piss me off. “Your sister’s here,” she says softly, “would you like to say hello?”

Yep, it’s the latter.

“No, thank you,” I reply without pausing for thought.

“Oh, Bea, come on,” my mother pleads, “she’s desperate to talk to you. It’s been years!”

“Well, it’s been years since I had a sister so that would be why,” I huff.

“Bea, it’s Emma, please talk to me,” says the voice of a girl who I used to be so close to, I thought we’d one day live together. Perhaps even end up at the same nursing home where we’d earn a reputation for behaving badly. But now, when I hear her voice, I immediately hang up the phone and continue packing as though what just happened, hadn’t. I feel guilty for hanging up on Mom, but she should respect my wishes. I refuse to be railroaded into talking to a woman who I used to call my sister.

“She’s not going to take the hint, is she?” Ben’s soft voice travels through my room from where he’s leaning against the door frame. I turn to face him with a sad smile, looking at his crossed arms and sympathetic expression.

“Nope, but I can’t blame Mom for trying,” I reply. Ben’s always been on my side.

“Listen, Leah says she can take you to the airport if you like,” he says, perking up and walking in to help me fold my scattered clothes. I simply nod with a renewed happy smile on my face, pleased to have ended the previous conversation. “I would take you myself, but if I see your boss there, I might end up jeopardizing your career, as you so often tell me.”

“I love you for wanting to though,” I tell him at the same time as throwing my arms around his huge shoulders. He merely pushes me away in a jovial, brotherly kind of way, making the both of us laugh over our sibling theatrics.

_____

Bea

That evening, I eat at home, trying to feel ok about everything at work. It works about as well as trying to convince Finn that McDonalds is real food. The thought has me longing to see my best friend, even if he’s working and can only spare me two minutes of conversation every now and then. It’s close to finish so he won’t mind me hanging around at his fancy pants restaurant bar; I might even score a free drink or two. Lord knows I need one right about now, especially as Ben and Leah finished the last bottle of white wine.

After a lot of guilting, which then turned into whining, which then turned into me trying very badly to feed his already over-inflated ego, Ben agreed to drive me down to Finn’s place. When I get there, only one or two tables are left. Even better, they look like they’ve already eaten and are now drowning their gourmet meal with tumblers of liquor. Finn is perched on one of the bar stools with a waiter, chatting and laughing while knocking back a bottle of beer. His carefree smile and slouched figure have me smiling to myself; I haven’t seen him in ages. I suddenly remember how much I’ve missed him, how much he soothes my frazzled nerves, and how much he makes me laugh, even when I don’t want to. I watch him talking away to the other guy before glancing over to catch me staring. He offers me a wave and a huge smile.

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