Unfortunately Yours: A Novel (Vine Mess Book 2)

There was a low buzz in the back of Natalie’s head.

It had been there since she’d landed in New York. It was still there when she checked into the hotel, just off Park Avenue, and it was growing louder now as the potential investor spoke to her from across the polished table, talking about his recent trip to Mykonos. That was how these meetings worked. They didn’t talk about money or investment strategies, it was all social chitchat until the last five minutes. Up until that point, every tick of the clock was spent determining whether she had reached a high enough social standard to even associate with.

In the not-so-distant past, she didn’t even have to take meetings. Her portfolio did the talking. But that approach didn’t work anymore. Her company might have asked her to step down quietly, but after an extended absence and without a successful firm to back her up, her stock as a financier had dropped significantly.

“You wouldn’t believe the water,” said the investor, crunching into some kind of crostini with lobster salad on top. “We couldn’t tell where it ended and the sky began. We’re thinking of going back for Christmas. Too many tourists in New York in December.”

Based on her research, he was from Florida, but fine. Hate on people just trying to have a stinking vacation.

“Greece in December,” Natalie forced herself to respond in a bright, interested tone. “That’s the time to go, so you can avoid the heat.” Was that even true? Natalie didn’t know. She needed to get her head in the game here, but she couldn’t seem to concentrate. Had August found her handiwork in the barn? Was he angry that she’d overstepped his boundary or . . . maybe he was surprised he didn’t utilize her solution sooner and would use it, even if he didn’t come up with it himself?

Fat chance. He was too stubborn.

And it was really, wildly ridiculous to miss him so much that her body was sore.

Did they really sleep together for the first time this week?

It felt like they’d been making love for a century.

“Ah!” The investor broke into her thoughts by signaling someone over her shoulder. “I see one of my colleagues at the bar. Shall we settle up here and join them?”

My God, this whole night was getting away from her. She’d flown three thousand miles to secure a chunk of this man’s money. Claudia had busted her behind to pin him down for Natalie. Now that she finally had the chance, she was blowing it?

Natalie mentally shook herself and leaned forward. “Before we do that, Mr. Savage—and tonight is on me, of course—I would love to talk to you about the new venture—”

“Listen, Miss Vos, I’ll be plain,” he interrupted, wiping his mouth with the white cloth napkin and setting it aside. She could see the rejection coming a mile away and all she could think was I’m not Miss Vos anymore. I’m Mrs. Cates. “I appreciate the fact that you’ve flown all the way from Napa to take this meeting, but I’m not sure us getting into bed together is the best play for me.”

It took a physical effort not to openly gag at his phrasing. “I understand your hesitation completely, of course. I’ve been out of the game for a while, but that’s an advantage, not a drawback. I’m coming in with a fresh perspective. You’re going to get more than the same stale plays from me. Sure, my firm is the epitome of young, but you have a reputation as a maverick. You take gambles, as well. Early on in your career, you invested in microprocessors before that kind of tech became a standard addition to every portfolio.”

He smirked. “My gamble paid off.”

Those four words made one thing painfully obvious. Savage knew she’d been fired. Of course he did. News like that didn’t stay quiet in the financial sector, especially when she’d been such a visible force prior to disappearing. Tonight was the first time she’d looked anyone from the finance world in the face and had her demise addressed. It was a lot easier than she’d imagined it would be. Almost like the sting was gone. Being revered by power players was no longer the most important thing in her life. What was?

Or more specifically . . . who?

Natalie breathed through a wave of loneliness.

“Yes. It did pay off. But lately you’ve played it safe. See these men at the bar?” Briefly, she glanced over her shoulder and her stomach lurched. Morrison was there. Her ex-fiancé had just pulled out a stool for his new intended, the bartender setting cocktail napkins down in front of the pretty couple, saying something to make them both laugh.

Oh God, why hadn’t she chosen a different restaurant?

This was a typical haunt for analysts. She recognized several faces at the bar.

Natalie turned back around, praying her face wasn’t fuchsia. Keep talking. “To these men, safe equals stagnant. It makes them begin to wonder if there is a cash flow. Or nothing but dusty stacks languishing somewhere, waiting to be inherited. Is investing with me a gamble? Yes. But it’s also a signal to the sharks that you’ve got more than enough money. Money to set on fucking fire, if you want to. Maybe that’s the equivalent to investing with me. Ringing a bell that says, ‘I take risks, I know something you don’t know’? It opens more doors. It puts your name in someone’s mouth when they’re considering who to bring in on the investment of the century. It makes you fresh.”

Natalie sat back in her chair.

Familiar faces at the bar were staring. She could feel heat on her back. They were slowly noticing she was in the same establishment as her ex and his future wife. They were hoping to see fireworks. More than likely, they also knew she was there to court this man’s influence and were hoping to get a hint at the outcome. Sharks, indeed.

Had her spiel worked? It was difficult to tell. Savage no longer had his smirk, but he looked more irritable than inspired by her speech. He was wiping a corner of his mouth over and over again, unnecessarily, while considering Natalie closely. “I need a little more time to consider it,” he said finally, throwing down the napkin.

Okay. That was more promising than an outright hell no.

Where was the sense of victory? Or even hope?

Totally absent, that’s where.

She’d given the pitch her best effort. For herself. For Claudia.

Might as well admit it, though. She’d been hoping he’d say no.

“Thank you,” she said, reaching out to shake his hand firmly. The waiter set the leather booklet containing the bill in front of her and she dropped her card on top without looking at the price, on purpose, which brought the smirk back to his face. After the receipt was signed, they both pushed back from the table and stood. “I appreciate your time, Mr.—”

“You’ll join us for a drink before you jet back to wine country, won’t you?” He raised an eyebrow while flicking a glance over her shoulder. “Unless there’s someone you want to avoid?”

Obviously, he’d seen her ex arrive. This was either a test of her mettle or he just wanted to pay Natalie back for pointing out his lack of risk taking at dinner. “If I made a habit of avoiding uncomfortable situations, I wouldn’t be here right now at all.”

He inclined his head, as if to say, Prove it.

“One drink, then,” she said, tightly, turning on her heel.

It was worse than she’d expected. Every eye in the place was fastened on her. She’d rubbed elbows with most of these analysts and portfolio managers over the years at this very place, smiling while they gloated over their client list. Attended a couple of their weddings, even. Now she was nothing but tomorrow’s gossip at the office.

Making eye contact with Morrison was inevitable and everyone was watching to see how it would happen. No matter how she handled this, they would embellish the story or recast her as scorned and jealous. But in this moment, the only person who mattered was the investor she was trying to woo. Although, God, being tested by this dude was getting exhausting. She was beginning to lose sight of why it mattered.

She also just really, really wanted to go home to August.

Swallowing the fistful of tacks in her throat, Natalie followed William the remaining distance to the bar and let her gaze drift across to where Morrison was sitting with his fiancée. Giving them a wave and smile wasn’t nearly as hard as she expected. Actually, it felt kind of good. Like closure. But that didn’t stop everyone around her from whispering. Snickering in their single malt scotch. Having yet another laugh at her expense—

The thought died in its inception when someone else walked into the bar.

August.

August?

No, her eyes had to be playing tricks on her.

How . . . ?

It . . . was really him. There was no mistaking the giant ex-SEAL for anyone else. His wide shoulders had been wrestled into a navy blue suit jacket, his hair brushed back and semi-damp, his face clean-shaven. He sucked all the unwanted attention away from Natalie like an extra-large vacuum. Men who’d been hunkered over the bar stood up straighter now, as if commanded, trying to compete with August’s height and swagger.

Dear God, the swagger.

He walked in like everyone owed him a hundred bucks, but he was too lazy to collect.

Where had he found a tailor who could craft a suit big enough to fit three normal-sized men? And there was no use pretending it didn’t make him look like sex on two thick, tireflipping legs. Head to toe, her flesh flushed and turned tight.

I’m flustered. I’m actually flustered by my husband.

Probably because the last time she’d seen him, he’d been feeding her orgasms like candy. Just popping them into her mouth like Mentos.

More, please, sir.

Wait.

Natalie shook herself. What was he doing here?

Time slowed considerably when she met August’s eyes. He’d rounded the corner of the bar, striding in that overly cocky way right in her direction, and now she was actually jealous for the first time that night. Because that suit clung to his powerful body the way she wanted to—wrapped around every inch of him, tied in a knot and worn out.

When August was a few feet away, however, something else rippled through the lust.

Joy.

Flat-out joy to see him.

That she wouldn’t have to wait to be back in St. Helena. He was here.

He should have been here all along. They should have been together.

That was what the buzzing in her head had been trying to tell her.

Natalie held her breath as her husband came to a stop right in front of her. The loud conversation in the bar area had died down to a hum. Or maybe the waves crashing in Natalie’s head were drowning out the sound? And they crashed even louder when August leaned down and kissed her cheek, his hand landing possessively on her hip. Squeezing in silent communication. I missed you. Or was she projecting?

“Excuse me for a moment, Mr. Savage,” she managed, walking them out of earshot from her potential client. The scent of grapefruit washed over Natalie and she gulped it down greedily. “What are you doing here?” she whispered, pulling him closer by the lapels of his jacket, careful to keep at least an inch between their bodies. An inch they both, very obviously, were eager to eliminate if the rushing of exhales was any indication.

“You want the truth?” He turned his nose into her hair and breathed deeply. “I’ve been through Hell Week, injuries, training that nearly killed me, giving myself stitches without so much as an Advil. And none of it, Natalie, is worse physical torture than being away from you.”

Blood rushed to her ears and started pounding. Movements around them seemed to be happening in a dream, all grainy and distant. The inch between them shrank until it no longer existed, the fronts of their bodies meeting, pressing, the rate of her heartbeat tripling. “I would have been home tomorrow.”

“That isn’t soon enough. Another hour wouldn’t have been soon enough.”

If she didn’t armor herself immediately, she was going down. RIP Natalie. “I’m still angry at you for missing the meeting. For—”

“Shutting you out. Good. You should be. I fucked up. I’ve been fucking up since the start with you.” His fist twisted in the back of her dress. “I’m sorry. I’m not making excuses, but I went to see Sam yesterday and it wasn’t the same as it usually is. I can usually pretend he’s there talking to me and this time I couldn’t. I just sort of . . . shut off.”

Denial hit her like a truck. Oh . . . no. She’d left him to deal with that alone?

“Then I’m sorry, too, August.” Was everyone in the restaurant staring at them? How could they not be? But with their prying eyes shielded by the wall of August’s body, she was in a little I-don’t-care cocoon. “It’s hard to focus on that when you’re wearing this suit.”

In her periphery, she saw his eye crinkle at the corner, lips twitching. “Even better than my wedding tux?”

She sucked down another breath of grapefruit, then pushed him away slightly. On second thought, she tugged him a tiny bit closer.

I’m losing my mind.

August took hold of her indecisive wrists without a word and dropped his mouth to the space right above her ear, rumbling, “Babe.”

It was the equivalent of putting a pin in a balloon. She just unloaded. “I don’t think I’m going to get the investment and . . . instead of business, it just feels like another man using money to make me dance, you know?” She watched the lump move up and down in August’s throat. “Everyone is staring at me. They think I’m a joke. And Morrison just arrived out of the blue with his future wife, sitting at the bar, making me the live entertainment for the evening.”

August stiffened at the mention of her ex. “How do you feel about seeing him?”

He’d made himself vulnerable by giving her the truth when he walked in. She couldn’t do anything but return the favor now. “I don’t feel a thing.”

His chest shuddered up and down, tension ebbing from his burly frame. “And when I walked in?”

“I thought . . . you should have been here all along.”

A gruff sound left him, throat muscles shifting in a pattern.

He opened his mouth to say something, but they were interrupted by Savage.

“And who might this be?” asked the potential investor. Was it her imagination or had he intentionally dropped the register of his voice several octaves?

“Mr. Savage, I would like you to meet my husband, August Cates.”

“Husband?” The man reared back a little and he traded a glance with a few of the men behind him at the bar. “It must have been a whirlwind romance.” He put out his hand for August to shake. Her husband didn’t seem thrilled about letting her go long enough to conduct the greeting. “Call me William, please. Good to meet you. Sorry you couldn’t make dinner.”

August nodded. “Nice to meet you, too.”

Savage studied her husband. “Are you some kind of athlete or something?” he asked, rolling a shoulder.

“I’m a SEAL. Been retired just over three years.”

“You’re shitting me! A Navy SEAL.” The man dropped his drink onto the bar, with no awareness that it splashed onto the jacket of the closest patron. “When I was a kid, I wanted to be a SEAL. Talked about it until I was blue in the face. My father even set up obstacle courses in the backyard and called it toddler training. I’d love to hear some battle stories.”

Her husband looked down at her. “I’m sure you’ve heard plenty of them tonight from Natalie already, though, right? I don’t know a lot about the financial world, but a woman on Wall Street would have to fight harder than anyone, I imagine.”

Savage laughed. “Harder than a SEAL? I’m not sure about that.”

August’s eyes seemed to darken a shade. “It’s a different kind of fighting. And she has fought her way back here with almost no support. No one encouraging her to do it. God only knows where her inner strength comes from, but I’ll tell you something, it’s more than I’ve got. It’s enough to keep putting herself out there with no reward and I feel sorry for anyone who doesn’t take someone with that much bravery seriously.”

It took everything inside of Natalie not to burst into tears. He was right. She’d been kicking ass and clawing her way back and that effort had gone unacknowledged. By anyone. And she wasn’t the only woman who went about her daily grind only for people to expect more, so she liked to think all of womankind celebrated with her in that moment. When her husband finally got it. When he finally saw her.

The investor had gone from jocular to thoughtful during August’s speech. He turned his attention to her now. “If I trust you with my money, what’s your first play?”

Natalie took a deep breath and let it rip. “Obviously we’re going with a classic long/short equity strategy. We make the smart investments that put us ahead and give us room to play and then we short technologies, pharma, oil based on bold predictions and market trends. And I’m not just talking about the United States. We’re going to monitor markets and how consumers respond in every geographical location on the face of the earth, taking everything down to the fucking weather patterns into account. If your money isn’t tripled in the first quarter, I’ll give you back every cent of your initial investment.”

A muscle hopped in Savage’s cheek. August’s pride was evident in every line of his body, but she couldn’t risk looking at him or she’d lose her cool.

“I’ll move some numbers around and call you on Monday,” Savage said finally, holding out his hand for another shake from August, then he traded a shake with Natalie one more time and rejoined his friends at the bar.

“Holy shit, that was incredible,” August whispered to her out of the side of his mouth.

“Be cool. Pretend I go off like that all the time.”

“Done. But let’s get out of here, princess,” he exhaled. “These pants are too tight in the ball region.”

Natalie shook her head to hide the creeping amusement, breezing past her husband and beginning the journey toward the exit. “Only you would make the romantic gesture of flying across the country and ruin it with ball talk in, like, eight seconds.”

August followed so close behind her, she could feel his body heat through the clingy material of her dress. “Eight seconds is a lifetime when a man has no testicular circulation.”

“Is this a ploy?” she asked over her shoulder. “When we get to my room, you’re going to tell me you’re medically required to get your pants off as soon as possible?”

“Well, not now, since you’ve called me on it. I’ll have to save that idea for next time.”

“Next time?”

He grunted.

They were passing by Natalie’s ex and his fiancée. Both of them sipped their drinks and looked coolly at Natalie and August as they passed. Or maybe they were just wary? If she recalled correctly, she and her partner’s daughter had gotten along great at company functions. The situation itself was simply awkward. Just not for Natalie. For some reason, she felt totally comfortable stopping beside the couple, laying a hand on both of their backs, and saying a heartfelt congratulations. She’d never really loved Morrison, so what was the sense in begrudging the fact that he’d found love elsewhere?

Her ex smiled at his intended. She smiled back. Simultaneously, they thanked Natalie.

Then she took August’s hand and after a little tugging—August clearly wanted to say something to her ex—they continued toward the elevator that would bring them down to street level. “What were you going to say to him?” she asked as they stepped inside, the gold doors snapping together in front of them.

“I don’t know. All I could think of was Julia Roberts’s line in Pretty Woman. You know? ‘Big mistake. Big. Huge.’ But then you decided to be mature about the whole damn thing. Kind of caught me off guard.” He shrugged those big shoulders. “That’s probably a good thing. I’d rather be remembered for quoting something like Rambo. Or Happy Gilmore.”

“Wow. You really just summed up your whole personality in two movies.”

He grinned over at her. “Your turn.”

Natalie let her head tip back. Gone was the stiffness that had been building since she boarded her flight. Fun. She was having fun. Did she always have fun with this man, even when they were arguing? “Wall Street. And Bridesmaids.”

“Bam. Beautifully done.”

“Thank you.”

Without warning, August backed her up against the wall of the elevator, his mouth stopping just a whisper above hers. “You know I’m trying to follow your lead and be mature, but I actually wanted to punch your ex in the face, right?”

Deep down, she had. She’d known that like she knew her own name. “Yes,” she breathed.

“Good. Just so we’re clear.”

“Hmm.”

Her brain said, Sex. Sex right here and right now.

Unfortunately, the elevator doors opened to reveal a dozen people staring back.

With a muttered curse, August took her hand and led her through the throng of people, toward the street. “Where are you staying?” he asked, guiding her through the glass door of the building and out onto the sidewalk. It was a Friday night in a part of town where not a ton of bars were located anyway, so most of the pedestrians were working stiffs who’d stayed late at the office. But traffic roared by at its usual breakneck pace, horns bleeping expletives, music drifting out of car windows, passersby holding conversations on their phones.

“I’m one block down,” she called up to him over the street noise.

“Ah.” He nodded, pulling her closer to navigate the sidewalk traffic with a frown. “I’m all the way east.”

Natalie battled the disappointment. “You . . . booked a room?”

“Yeah, about that,” he answered slowly. “Believe me, I wish we were in a place where I could assume I’m staying in your room. Fuck. You have no idea. My dick is like the end of a hockey stick right now. You remember the way it curves when it’s hard . . .”

“Yes,” she all but panted. “I remember.”

“Good.” He tucked his tongue into his cheek for a second, seemingly to subdue a smile, but it dropped just as quickly. “It wasn’t right what I did.” She tugged on his hand to indicate they’d reached her hotel and they ducked into the lobby together. The city sounds were replaced with the soft murmur of conversation and piano music. But she could barely hear anything over August’s voice and the pounding of her heart, especially when he guided her to a quiet corner of the lobby and looked down at her with such earnest intensity. “I asked you to give up everything and stay in Napa. I asked you to drop your defenses for me when I wasn’t willing to do the same. I’ve been keeping you out, by refusing to let you help me solve my main problem at the winery. I see that now, Natalie. And I acted really fucking superior, like I had my end of this relationship all figured out. I didn’t. I was the weak link. And I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

He brought her hands to his mouth and kissed her knuckles, leaving her heart fluttering wildly in her throat. Over his touch. His words. The perceptiveness of them.

She’d underestimated him yet again, hadn’t she?

“You have no idea how badly I want to come upstairs with you. Honestly, everyone in the lobby is about to see a grown man cry. My dick might just hop right off my body, assume a human form, and punch me in the face. But, uh . . .” He blew out a long breath. “I saw you in that bar tonight and you looked like you were in the right place, all classy and confident and polished. You knocked that motherfucker’s socks off. This is where you want to belong, if nothing else. I should have listened to you in the beginning. Maybe, uh . . . maybe I’m not the best thing for you. Natalie . . .” He leaned down, kissed her mouth gently, remaining there and breathing hard for a moment. Then, swallowing audibly, he took a step back, misery written on every one of his features. “I have to protect myself from getting in any deeper here, because you’re going to leave, maybe you should leave. And every time we’re together, you and me being apart seems more and more unthinkable.”

Being apart? He assumed her decision had been made to leave Napa. Permanently.

On the plane ride here, that was where her compass had been pointing. New York.

For good.

Now she wasn’t so sure. How could she remove herself from this man’s life when he’d walked in tonight and stitched her back together just by existing? She was deeply in love with August Cates and somewhere along the way, that started meaning more to her than a comeback.

A lot more.

Her indecision was causing him to suffer, so she needed to make a choice. Now. Tonight.

And when she looked up at this man, there really was no decision to make at all, was there?