Page 145 of Secrets Hidden In The Glass

Her heart started pounding. “I don’t know.”

“I do. It’s already in motion. We’ve got rumors swirling about your mental health, and we can’t have that. We’re going to divert everyone’s attention to the positive, so I’m also thinking of a welcome back tour. Paris, Italy, Greece. And we’re going to need to talk about your contract. I want a renewal. At least two years. We’ll get you a nice long break before we kick things off again.”

“Send it over to my attorneys,” she said, knowing she needed to say something or she and Nate were never going to get out of there. “We’ll look at terms.”

“Beautiful. I really must go. Mr. Iwasaki needs my attention.” She gave more air kisses. “We’ll talk soon.”

Callie looked at Nate, smiled, then moved to the coat check. She grabbed her wrap, wanting to focus on anything but the last few minutes. She didn’t want to talk about tours and contracts. “Are you ready?”

Nate nodded. “Yeah.”

She settled her wrap on her shoulders and hurried out the door with Nate by her side, into the barrage of press.

~~~~

Nate opened his eyes when a plane flew over Callie’s building—the third in nearly forty-five minutes. Fifty-two stories from the ground made it impossible to hear the street noise, but he couldn’t say the same about the air traffic. Every time he’d dozed off over the last couple of hours, something had woken him. Sighing, he turned his head and stared at Callie deeply asleep despite the urban glow shining in through her massive windows. Too restless to sleep, he eased back the covers and got out of bed, pulling on his boxers before he walked to the wall of glass. He studied the buildings that went on for miles and the view of Central Park Callie had pointed out when they first arrived at her apartment.

Scrubbing at his face, he replayed their evening, feeling the weight that had settled on his shoulders hours ago growing exponentially. What had started out as an opportunity for the two of them to get away from Carter Island for the weekend had turned into something entirely different. For the first time since they’d met, he was seeing a side of Callie he hadn’t known existed.

She was definitely a city girl. She hailed cabs with the best of them, raising her arm while she stood curbside or putting her fingers in her mouth and letting loose one of those high-pitched whistles during the height of rush hour. She walked the streets like any other no-bull New Yorker, well oriented in a place that made his head spin. And she’d been right at home in Marion’s gallery despite her initial discomfort with the press. But what troubled him most was Callie’s conversation with her agent. Callie hadn’t told Marion no when Marion suggested a European tour and contract renewal. In that moment, Nate had realized his huge mistake. He’d set himself up to repeat the past—Elizabeth 2.0. The life he’d thought he and Callie were building wasn’t what Callie wanted at all. At no point had Callie ever said she was staying in Sanderson. Extending a vacation and getting to the bottom of some serious personal issues were far from a declaration that small-island life was for her. The reality was, Callie was a world-famous artist. She belonged here.

But he didn’t.

He’d tried city life. Once upon a time he’d reported to work at a huge precinct, and he’d hated every minute of it…

“Nate?” Callie sat up. “What are you doing? Are you okay?”

He turned, watching her slide her glossy hair back from her spectacular face as she blinked her sleepy eyes. “Yeah, I couldn’t sleep.”

“Oh.” She got out of bed, putting on her robe but not bothering to tie it closed as she walked over. She wrapped her arms around his waist and settled her head on his chest. “Are the lights keeping you up?”

He shrugged as he slipped his hands beneath the barrier of silky fabric and rubbed his palms up and down her back. “It’s hard to close your eyes when you’ve got this view.”

“Mmm. It’s amazing.”

He rested his cheek on her soft hair, his despair growing by the minute. “You fit here. Doormen and grocery deliveries. Swank parties and fancy friends.”

She traced her fingers along his spine. “I’ve lived here for so long—feels like forever sometimes.”

He watched the flashing red lights of a fire truck racing by far below. “This is your life.”

She lifted her head, meeting his gaze. “Was my life.”

He stared into her big blue eyes, wishing he could be sure. “This is part of who you are. Urban and artsy. Beautiful. You belong here.”

She frowned, dropping her hands and taking a step away. “What are you saying?”

“I don’t know.” He sighed, shaking his head. “You fit in Sanderson—in my town, but there’s this side of you that’s so different. I had no idea until this afternoon that you don’t like to grocery shop. You’re always stopping off at the market for us.”

She pulled her robe closed, clutching the fabric shut with her arms wrapped tightly around her waist. “I don’t like grocery shopping here. It involves cabs and too many bags.”

He wanted to grab the hem of her clothes and bring her closer, but he let her keep her distance. “I’ve been selfish with you. I’ve wanted you to want what I do, but that’s not fair.”

Her eyes softened—the wariness vanishing in an instant. “Do you know what I was thinking about tonight while we were standing in the gallery?”

“How much you wanted to dodge Marion?”

She smiled, closing the distance between them and hooking her fingers in the elastic of his boxers. “Yes, that’s certainly true, but that’s not all.” She kissed him. “I was thinking about how much I missed the quiet of Sanderson and the views from your windows.”