Page 29 of The Price of Protection

Rose didn’t know what to say. Eventually, Nathaniel opted for a cheesecake brownie, and she slid that and a pumpkin pie onto two plates, filled two mugs with coffee, and led him to a corner booth. It was only one thirty in the afternoon, which gave them a bit of time before Maxine got out of school and came here, if she came here at all.

Rose tried to remember the last time she’d seen Nathaniel in the flesh. And then, it came back to her in a vibrant rush: her trip to Boston to tell him she was pregnant with his baby. She’d stood like a fool, watching his wife, Cynthia, take the stage. Why had Rose been so sure that Nathaniel wasn’t married? He was wealthy and powerful. He was the kind of guy who could have whatever and whoever he wanted. The version of him Rose had built in her mind didn’t exist.

But Rose had created no problems for him. She’d given the baby up for adoption, and the Legacy Club had handled the rest. Hadn’t they? Oh, she felt sick.

“This is divine,” Nathaniel said, closing his eyes as he chewed his brownie. “Wow! I mean, you have a real talent for this. I remember you didn’t know what you wanted to be, what you wanted to go into. It seems like you picked the perfect thing.”

“What are you doing here, Nate?” Rose said, hating the hard edge in her voice.

Nathaniel set down his fork and folded his hands. At that moment, he looked like an older man, but when Rose blinked again, she saw a twenty-two-year-old boy.

“I wanted to check in on you,” Nathaniel said.

“But why?” Rose asked. “After all these years? It doesn’t make sense.”

Nathaniel was quiet.

“Someone told you to watch out for me, didn’t they?” Rose said, narrowing her eyes. “Someone told you that I was going to make a mess of your life. Ruin your chances of becoming mayor. That’s it, isn’t it?”

Nathaniel couldn’t meet her gaze, which confirmed it. Rose wanted to throw her plate of pumpkin pie on the ground.

“Nobody knows anything,” Rose said stiffly. “I didn’t tell anyone about you and me, not even my best friends back then. Actually, you coming here puts you at a greater risk than anything else.”

Nathaniel pressed the heel of his hand against his forehead. After a long pause, he said, “I need some air. Will you go on a walk with me? Please.”

Although she didn’t want to feel it, especially not toward him, tenderness swelled through Rose. She got up, went to the kitchen to turn off the ovens and fully abandon her macarons, then grabbed her coat and joined Nathaniel on the sidewalk. Without speaking, they headed for the harbor, feeling the harsh blast of autumnal air at their faces.

Rose wondered if she owed Nathaniel the truth about Harry Orlett. She stewed on it, watching a group of bundled-up tourists hustle past.

When they reached the sailboats, they paused, leaning against the railings and gazing out at the frigid water.

After a long moment, Nathaniel said, “I guess I didn’t tell you I was married back then.”

“I figured it out,” Rose said, trying to sound flippant, though it was clear she’d cared, and still cared.

Nathaniel turned to look at her. “I am truly sorry, Rose. It wasn’t fair to you.”

Rose filled her lungs, surprised. The last thing she’d ever expected was an apology from Nathaniel Hawkins, especially so many years later. “It was a long time ago. You were young.”

“You were younger,” Nathaniel said.

Rose wondered if he was apologizing to get her off his back, to make sure she didn’t make any rash moves and destroy his political campaign. She tried to build tolerance within herself, to draw strength against him.

But then, Nathaniel said, “When I reflect on that time of my life, I remember that you were the only bright light in it. I was miserable, in both my marriage and my career. And that misery continued until a couple of years ago, when I told my father I wanted nothing more to do with his businesses, and that I wanted to pursue a political career.”

Rose’s heart thrummed. Why was he telling her this? Yet it sounded good to hear that she’d once made him happy. The truth was, he’d made her happy, too, before he’d made her very, very sad. But that was the nature of those early romantic relationships, she reminded herself.

In the distance, over by some other sailboats, milling around, she saw a photographer, his camera raised. Next came multiple flashes. Was he taking photographs of them? Rose shivered, wondering if Harry Orlett would get those photographs and use them as proof that Nathaniel Hawkins had once had an affair and a child with another woman.

Did Nathaniel see the photographer? If she pointed him out, would Nathaniel make a big show of demanding that the photographs be destroyed? She didn’t want to go through that.

“I’m glad you’re happier now,” Rose said finally, because she was, genuinely, pleased he’d found a path forward. “From the sounds of things, you have a lot of very good plans. As mayor, I mean.”

Nathaniel’s eyes brightened. “You’ve read my platform?”

“Of course I did,” Rose breathed. She’d kept tabs on him over the years. He’d been one of her life’s great loves.

Nathaniel wiped what looked to be a tear from his cheek. Rose wondered if he was really crying, or if the cold air had drawn the tear out.