Return of the Jerk (Sweet Life in Seattle, Book 2) (48 page)

The office furniture he bought is still there, but his computers are both gone. And when she looks through the desk drawers, they’re all empty. He kept clothes in the office closet and those are gone, too.

She searches around for Mr. Maurice, but doesn’t see him anywhere. For a moment, she considers the possibility Nathan might have taken her cat with him, but then finds him hiding under her bed.

“There you are.”

Mr. Maurice comes out and lets her pet him as Blair tries to decide whether she should call Nathan again. She’s already tried three times this morning, but he’s not answering.

Finally, exhausted, she collapses onto her bed, and that’s when she notices it. His smoky scent. On the pillows, the duvet, everywhere.

God.

She sticks her face in the sheets, breathes in his smell. The hint of autumn leaves burning. Blair shivers, like a fever coming on, the worst one ever. Her heart aches, the pain so deep it spreads through her whole body. She closes her eyes and the tears flow.

Blair sleeps a lot. Cries a lot. Doesn’t have to be back at work until Tuesday, so she has two full days to sink further into this tarry blackness.

No one calls, so she figures no one knows yet. Blair doesn’t call anyone either, not even Tori, since she doesn’t want to put Tori in the middle. Wonders where Nathan went, if he’ll leave Seattle again now. She stopped trying to call him after the fifteenth time when she realized she was only calling so she could hear his voicemail say, “This is Nathan. Not available right now, call you back when I get a chance.”

I’m pitiful.

Mr. Maurice stays by her side, though his golden eyes are more accusing than sympathetic.
Where is he?
He wants to know.
How could you let him go?

She doesn’t bathe, or load the dishwasher, or lift a finger to clean a single thing. Orders take-out Chinese food and leaves the empty containers sitting on the counter just like Fiona does. When she opens her cabinets and fridge, everything is out of alignment. A total mess.

Just like my life.

She thinks about her normal compulsive behavior and it all seems silly now. Who cares if the toaster is plugged in all night? If there’s a spoon mixed in with the forks?

None of that matters. Oddly, this heartbreak has given her perspective in a way she’s never had before.

Her only obsession now is with how she can make things right between her and Nathan. Round and round, she replays what happened years ago.
I can’t change the past, though.

On Tuesday, Blair does something she’s never done in the entire time they’ve owned La Dolce Vita. She calls in sick.

“Are you all right?” Natalie wants to know. “You sound awful.”

“Nathan and I broke up. It’s over.”

“You broke up? I thought everything was going so well. He even passed the Bandito Test!”

“Yes, well . . . that’s all changed.”

Natalie tries to talk, but Blair tells her, “I have to go.”

After hanging up, she lies on the couch and tries to sleep some more, but can’t manage it. Instead, she turns on the TV. Flips channels. Stops when she sees
The Razor’s Edge
—her favorite version with Bill Murray. Despite being panned by critics, Blair always thought Bill Murray did a great job as Larry Darrell.

She watches Larry and Isabel, a box of tissues beside her, crying. In the end, Isabel doesn’t get Larry, but of course she doesn’t deserve him, either.

Is that my fate? Do I not deserve Nathan?

Unfortunately, she knows the answer.

As Blair blows her nose, contemplating whether she should eat another bowl of cereal from the endless supply crowding her cabinets, her intercom buzzes. Hearing a woman’s voice, it takes her a moment to realize Natalie is downstairs.

“You didn’t have to come over,” Blair says, letting her inside.

“Of course, I did.” Natalie looks around the condo and takes in the mess, but doesn’t say anything. “I wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

“I’m fine.”

Natalie frowns. Her blonde hair is pulled back into a ponytail and Blair notices she’s thickening around the waist a little, obviously starting to show from her pregnancy.

“You don’t look fine.” Natalie’s eyes roam over her. “In fact, you look terrible.”

They go in the living room to sit on the couch, and Blair shoves the blankets she was using aside. She started sleeping out here after the first night. Nathan’s scent in her bed is too torturous. She could wash the sheets, but as perverse as it sounds, she doesn’t want to lose his scent, either.

“Can I get you anything?” Blair asks. “I think I could pull together a glass of water. There’s plenty of cereal.”

“I just want to know what on earth happened.”

Blair shakes her head, tries to smile, but can’t. “I did something bad.” And then she tells Natalie the whole story. Her deepest, darkest secret finally revealed.

“So, as you can see, I’m truly depraved,” Blair says, once she’s finished explaining it all.

“Give me a break. I agree, what you did was wrong, but you didn’t get pregnant all by yourself.”

Blair thinks about those words. “It wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t lied. The whole marriage—all of it. I sometimes wonder if that’s why I miscarried.” Her throat tightens. “Like a punishment, you know?”

Natalie shakes her head, reaches over and takes Blair’s hand. “Those things just happen sometimes. You can’t blame yourself. Don’t go there.”

“Yeah,” Blair says softly, trying to stop herself from crying again.

“He shouldn’t punish you, either,” Natalie says, frowning. “None of us are perfect. And if he really loves you, hopefully he’ll realize that.”

Before leaving to go back to work, Natalie turns to her in the doorway. “Lindsay and I love you, and we’re only going to let you feel sorry for yourself so long. It’s not good to wallow, and as you know, I speak from experience.”

After she’s gone, Blair gets another bowl of cereal and sits in front of the television again. Mr. Maurice, who was outside on the deck, comes in and gives her a disdainful glare before going over to his food dish.

“I don’t care what you say,” she mutters to the cat. “I love him just as much as you do.”

By early evening, Blair falls asleep on the couch and her dreams are disjointed and strange. Dreams about Nathan, but then about a witch flying on a broomstick.

Ding Dong. Ding Dong.

The witch cackles, and her cackle sounds familiar. But what’s that noise?

Ding Dong. Ding Dong.

Finally, Blair wakes up sweaty, kicking the blanket aside, and realizes that noise is her doorbell. When she answers it, she’s surprised to discover Fiona and Sachi.

“What’s wrong with you?” Fiona studies her from head to toe. “Have you no shame? You look
horrible
.”

“It’s nice to see you, too,” Blair says.

“We’re sorry to barge in on you unannounced like this,” Sachi says, “but Fiona wanted to pick up her suitcases.”

“Sure, of course.” Blair motions behind her. “They’re stacked over there in the corner.”

By now, Fiona has pushed past her into the living room where she’s gaping at the mess. “Look at this place! Nathan
forced
me to pay half the cost of a cleaning crew, and they haven’t even been here yet.”

Blair goes over and flops back down on the couch. “They’ve been here. They cleaned and left a few days ago.”

“
What?
” Fiona shrieks. “I’m demanding my money back! Where did Nathan even find these people? They must be the worse cleaners on Earth. I could do better than
this!
”

“It’s not them. They did a good job.” Blair sighs. “I created this mess.”

“
You?
” This stops Fiona cold. She doesn’t speak or move for a full two seconds, then immediately goes over to sit in the living room chair. “Talk to me.”

“Don’t you know what’s happened?” Blair asks. “Nathan hasn’t told you?”

Sachi comes over and takes a seat on the opposite side of the couch as Blair.

“Told me what?” Fiona’s blue eyes are rapt on Blair.

“We broke up.” Blair swallows. “We’re not together anymore.”

“Nathan’s moved out?” Fiona wants to know.

Blair nods. “His desk is still here, but everything else is gone.”

“What happened?”

Blair fidgets with the blanket on the couch. “It’s a long story.”

“I like long stories.” Fiona motions toward Sachi. “We both do.”

And so, against her better judgment, Blair tells them what happened between her and Nathan years ago. Ironically, after living with this deep dark secret for so long, she’s now blabbing it to everybody.

Including complete strangers.

She glances over at Sachi, who appears to be listening with sympathy, though Blair can only imagine what Sachi really thinks of her.

“My
God
, I’m gone for one week and this is what happens? See,” Fiona looks over at Sachi, “I told you something was wrong. Nathan sounded so strange on the phone.”

“So you’ve talked to him recently?” Blair asks.

Fiona nods. “Yes, but he never mentioned a word about this. Nothing! I could tell something was wrong, though.”

“Do you know where he’s staying?” Blair asks.

“No. Have you spoken to Tori? She might know.”

Blair feels a pang of guilt. “I haven’t talked to anybody, but I would have heard from Tori if he went there.”

“This is not good at all.” Fiona appears to be contemplating things. “We have to
fix
this.”

Blair leans her head back on the couch and sighs. “I don’t see how that’s possible.”

After they leave, Sachi struggling with Fiona’s heavy Louis Vuitton suitcases, Blair thinks about how her condo used to be this peaceful sanctuary. Everything tidy and perfect.
But maybe too perfect.
She thinks back to how she resented Nathan’s intrusion in the beginning, resented those globs of toothpaste in the sink, crumbs on the kitchen counter, the way he forced himself into her life, but now that’s all changed.

She’d give anything to have him back.

Nathan stares out the airplane window, watching the clouds and wishing he were somewhere else—anywhere. He’s already told Fiona he’ll do this last talk show in San Francisco and then he’s done. No more talk shows, no more book signings, no more anything. Of course, she balked, but he didn’t care.

Just can’t deal with this shit right now.

Fiona crosses her legs, sighing loudly as she studies her phone. “It just so happens, I know the entire story with you and Blair.” She looks up at him over her reading glasses. “In case you’re interested.”

Nathan doesn’t respond, hoping if he ignores her she’ll shut up.

“Sachi and I went by to pick up my luggage, and Blair told us
everything
.”

“When was this?”

“Yesterday.”

He goes back to looking out the window. Should probably get his computer out, but doesn’t feel like it. Hasn’t felt like doing much lately.

Fiona lets out a dramatic sigh. “I admit, I was surprised by what she told me.”

“Look, I don’t want to talk about Blair.”

“I don’t blame you. Not at all, especially after what happened. If I were you, I wouldn’t want to talk about her, either!”

Nathan nods, still gazing out the window. Even someone as self-involved as Fiona can understand how what Blair did was unforgivable. “It cut deep,” he admits. “I’ll say that much.”

Unfortunately, he still can’t stop thinking about Blair. As much as he tries, she’s on his mind day and night. Constantly. And what’s more, his emotions are all over the map. Keep going back and forth between hurt, anger, and betrayal. Can’t settle on which one to feel the most.

“Blair’s been torturing herself over this whole thing. Seriously,” Fiona tells him, shifting around to get more comfortable in her seat. “She’s torturing herself over something that’s clearly
your
fault!”

Nathan’s whips his head around from the window. “
My
fault?” he stares at her, incredulous. “How the hell do you figure that?”

She shrugs. “It’s obvious, isn’t it? You had a condom and didn’t use it.”

Nathan’s brows go up with surprise. So Blair really
did
tell Fiona the whole story.