Chapter 6

AURORA. By the time we got back to the office, it was midafternoon. Nathaniel retreated to his office while he gave me instructions on some errands he wanted me to complete. I went about my job, thinking back to our time together earlier. Nathaniel might be a hard man on the surface, but deep inside his heart, the way he cared for his wife, I could tell he truly loved her. I didn’t know many men who would not bat an eye at spending such huge amounts of money on their spouse. Though in their defense, I didn’t know many men. I secretly wished I could see Nathaniel’s wife's reaction when she saw the jewelry and clothes he'd gotten her. Was she as flashy and as sophisticated as he made her out to be? She had to be, if he thought spending thousands of dollars on fabric and jewelry was the way to her heart. As was my job, I'd sent the shopping bags to his car like Nathaniel instructed through his driver and Nathaniel himself would deliver them to her tonight. Sighing, I hoped they settled their disputes and were happy together. At the end of my working hours, I handed the notes I'd made earlier during the golf game to Nathaniel's secretary, Doris, and after making sure I'd finished my tasks for the day, I left for home. I still hadn't forgotten how he'd stood up for me, and in the process losing millions of dollars in partnership. It would have been flattering if I didn't feel so indebted to him. I couldn't for the life of me figure out why he'd done that. It was part of the job, getting belittled. He could've stood there and watched and I wouldn't have held it against him. Why then had he felt the need to protect my honor? But definitely, he would have done the same for Doris or anyone else. I would not make the mistake of thinking I was special. *** NATHANIEL. His mother picked up on the third ring. “Hey, sweetie.” Her melodious voice floated into his ear and he instinctively chuckled. “Hey, Mom,” he said. “How are you?” After his father had passed, which was barely two years ago, his mother had decided to go back to her mansion in Mexico where she spent her days doing whatever windows did for fun. He didn’t agree with it as he wanted her closer to him but she’d insisted. According to her, it was where she felt the most comfortable. Now, she made him fly over to Mexico every other week just to spend time with her and as if that wasn’t enough, she always tried to make him stay more than the six hours he allocated for the trip. “I’m doing good, just having a late lunch. What about you?” He nodded, then realized she couldn’t see him. “I’m great.” Clearing his throat, he went on, “Hey, Mom, so I’ve been thinking about what you said.” “Which one? I say a lot of things.” “Yeah, you do,” he teased. “The one about my wife and going to get her.” There was a pause. “Oh. I thought you did that last night? Didn’t you get my text? I sent you her phone number.” “You still haven’t told me where you found this girl, mom.” Every time he asked, she would always come up with one excuse or another. “But yes, I did get your text. However, now I want her address.” Another pause. “Okay, then call her and ask her for it, mijo.” She spoke the last word in her language, calling him son. “Why do you always have to stress me?” Nathaniel rolled his eyes at his mother’s theatrics. “Do you want me to go get her or not?” “Hijo de puta,” he heard her grumble, laughing. “Fine, I’ll text you the address. Anything else?” He thought about it for a second. What else did not know about her? He already had her address. The rest should be a piece of cake. Nathaniel was about to shake his head when it occurred to him that he did not know her name. “Yes, please. What’s her name?” This time, the pause spanned for thirty seconds. “What?” “What’s my wife’s name?” he repeated, though now that he thought about it, it did seem kind of strange that he'd gotten married without knowing that information. “Tell me you’re joking, Thane.” His mother’s voice carried and he was pretty sure she was about to start cussing him in Spanish. “I wish I could. I told you, Mom, I don’t even remember what she looked like. I barely looked at her that day.” “Por el amor de Dios,” she began. “You got married to a lady whose name you don’t know?” “In my defense, I never wanted to get married,” he reasoned, leaning back against his chair. “This was all your doing. And when you said you knew a girl who needed to get married as much as I did, I thought you presented a strong argument. You’ll have to excuse me for believing in my mother. Though, I see now how I could’ve done better. Could you just tell me her name?” “I can’t believe you, Thane. Seriously.” He imagined her rubbing her forehead in exhaustion and grinned. She loved him too much. “Her name is Ysabel García. Though now Ysabel Quan.” Her accent emphasized the last letter of Ysabel. Nathaniel repeated the name once, twice, rolling it over his tongue. It was a common name in Hispanic history but something about it called out to him. “Thanks, Mom,” he said into the speaker. His mother grumbled out a ‘you’re not welcome’ before cutting the call. Ysabel. He’d almost asked his mother what she looked like. He longed to see her face—and this time he would not forget it, to feel the smooth silk of her skin beneath his fingers. Was she a blonde or a brunette? Or was her hair more of an in-between color like Aurora’s? Nathaniel almost groaned. Why on earth was he thinking about his secretary when he should be thinking about his wife? Suddenly restless, he got up and walked to the window wall behind his desk, leaning against it and loosening the knot of his tie that suddenly felt like a tight band around his neck. The busy streets of New York stared back at him, but his mind was focused elsewhere. Aurora was walking down the busy street, moving down the sidewalk, most likely heading home. Her pencil skirt restricted her movement as she took short but quick steps, her heels giving her hips an exaggerated sway. Her long brown hair fell down her back and jumped as she walked and she adjusted her black handbag on her shoulder. This time, he groaned. He was in way over his head. What was he doing? Sighing, he moved away from the window to the minibar at a corner of his spacious office, pouring himself a drink. He was a fool. A very married fool lusting after his very married assistant. Right. His wife. Ysabel. He had to go to her tonight. Find her and tell her that he wanted an actual marriage and not one that haunted him every waking hour. A marriage they could try to make work and maybe fuck around and find out if they were compatible. After all, he knew her name now. But why the hell was he wishing it was Aurora?