Chapter 19

AURORA. So maybe delivering documents to one’s boss penthouse at night during a storm was not such a great idea, but I’d already come this far and it was too late to go back now. The elevator doors to Nathaniel’s penthouse opened and I took two steps out of it and into the spacious house. I couldn't help but be awestruck by the opulence that surrounded me. The grand entrance foyer welcomed guests with polished marble flooring that gleamed under the soft glow of crystal chandeliers. To my left, a stunning art piece adorned the wall, and a large, intricately designed rug stretched across the floor. “Dios mio,” I muttered. My eyes were immediately drawn to the expansive living area that opened up before me. Towering floor-to-ceiling windows provided panoramic views of the city skyline, which I imagined allowed natural light to flood the space during the day. Luxurious, plush sofas and armchairs were arranged around a sleek, modern fireplace, inviting one to sink into their comfort. The interior design oozed sophistication and elegance, with a perfect balance of contemporary and classic elements. I noticed tasteful artwork adorning the walls, sculptures that added a touch of culture, and shelves lined with exquisite books. Intriguing ornaments from around the world were tastefully placed on various surfaces, reflecting Nathaniel’s well-traveled nature. Walking further into the penthouse with no sign of Nathaniel in view, I discovered a lavish dining area with a grand table. The adjacent gourmet kitchen boasted top-of-the-line appliances and gleaming countertops, a kitchen that I would not mind cooking in. Rich people might make me sick —how could one person live in a house so big?— but I would not deny that luxury was a benefit that anyone would die to have. “I take it you like what you see.” I turned my head to see Nathaniel walking towards me clad in grey sweatpants and a white T-shirt. It felt oddly intimate seeing him out of his work attire and this casual fit. Swallowing, because he looked damn good and I had to keep myself from reaching out and touching him, I lifted the documents in my hands. “The files you asked me to bring.” His gaze trailed down to my hands before coming to rest on me. “Thank you. You can leave them on the dining table.” I did as he asked, feeling his intense stare burn into my back. Turning to face him, “You have a lovely… house.” He chuckled. “It’s massive. Doesn’t really feel like a house, but thanks.” The storm outside chose that exact moment to rage with unbridled intensity, unleashing its fury upon the city. Thunder rumbled like a fierce beast, its deep growls echoing through the air, reverberating through the walls of the penthouse. “Aw, shit. It seems like I won’t be getting home anytime soon,” I muttered. “You can stay here if you’d like,” Nathaniel said. His voice was concerned. “It's really pouring out there, and the storm seems to be getting worse. I don't think it's safe for you to go home tonight.” Stay here? With him? I couldn’t imagine it. “Oh, I appreciate your concern, but I wouldn't want to impose. I can call a cab or an Uber. I don't want to intrude on your personal space.” “Nonsense,” he said kindly. “It’s no intrusion at all. This place is enormous, and you're welcome to use any of the guest bedrooms. It's much safer and more comfortable than being out in the storm. Please, consider it.” He was right. I would feel much better staying here than being out in his pouring rain where all sorts of unimaginable things could happen. And Nathaniel had proved to me not just once that he was a gentleman. But I was still a bit reluctant. “I don't want to be a burden. Are you sure it's not too much trouble?” “Don’t be silly,” he teased, walking away from me and towards a minibar at the far-left corner for the living room. “Would you like something to drink? Brandy, whiskey?” The raindrops hammered against the windows, creating a relentless symphony of percussion. Occasional flashes of lightning illuminated the surroundings in sharp bursts of brilliance, briefly revealing the cityscape before plunging it back into darkness. I was spending the night in my boss’ penthouse. Somebody wake me up. “Brandy, I think.” He poured us a glass each in silence, then seemed to think about something for a second. Then he was grabbing both glasses with two fingers and the bottle of brandy in another hand. “Come on.” I followed him into the spacious living room where he plopped down on the soft looking carpet, gesturing for me to do the same. I concurred, gathering my bag near my leg as I sat cross-legged opposite him. Nathaniel pushed a glass towards me and placed the second in front of him. “You know, I don’t get a lot of visitors up here.” “Why not?” I asked him, lifting the glass to my lips and taking a sip. The amber liquid ran down my throat with a burning ferocity that caused me to cough. “Dios, this shit tastes like the devil’s piss. How do people drink this?” He laughed, throwing his head back and thundering the sound that somehow made my lips twitch. I’d never heard him laugh like that before. It was… refreshing. “I assure you, we don’t drink it because of its sweet taste,” he said. “And I don’t have a lot of friends. Only Winter and my sister visits me here.” I had not known he had a sister. While he refilled my glass, I took the opportunity to study his features at a closer range. He was done refilling much too soon, leaning back to look at me. I liked seeing him like this, carefree and relaxed, like he did not have a problem in the world. Our gazes held for a few moments and I wondered vaguely what was going through his mind as he stared back at me. We were both at our third glass when I asked him the question that had been stuck in my throat since I got here. I blamed my forwardness on the alcohol. It was getting to me. “What about your wife?” Just then, I saw a shadow past through his eyes. “What about her?” “Doesn’t she visit you?” I asked cautiously. “One would think as your wife, she would be living here with you.” Nathaniel threw back his fourth. I was about to tell him to slow down when it hit me that perhaps this was what I needed as well. To let go. Emptying my own glass, I reached for the bottle that we had already reduced by half, refilling my glass. “My wife is…” he drawled, chuckling humorlessly. “She cheated on me.” My breath hitched. “She had been cheating on me for quite some time and I only found out recently.” I yearned to reach over and hold him, comfort him but I did not think he would appreciate that. My heart broke for him. While I was a free woman now and could do whatever I wanted, it was not so for him. “I’m sorry,” I said and he nodded. It struck me that the relationship between he and his wife might have been restrained for quiet a while now. The penthouse décor was male, and I had checked. There was nothing feminine about the brown-colored carpet or the animal sculptures or the monochromic colors of the painting on the walls. Did that mean that he had given the illusion that all was well with them when it wasn’t? And if so, why?