“What?”
“Any questions you have can wait.” He sounded almost dismissive. Like she was somehow irritating him.
“What?”
“Tsk tsk tsk,” he scolded. “That was a question.” With that, he started walking out. What the....
Emma followed along to the hall. For a hot second, she imagined following him into the elevator, letting him do … whatever he did with his conquests that left them desperate for another go. Despite the insulting arrogance, Emma could see how most of the time, when the doors on that elevator slid closed, there were two people in the car. Not this time. She withdrew her phone and texted JT to meet her at the valet stand at the front entrance. Nathan walked ahead, oblivious. He didn’t even turn to check that she was trailing behind. When he did finally turn, he was a little taken aback to see her continuing down the hall, but it didn’t seem to register that she was done.
“This way, Ms. Porter.”
She stopped and faced him fully. Nathan grew wide-eyed at the look of wrath on her face. He looked her in the eye for, really, the first time, and he squinted slightly like he was actually seeing her. Emma fought the surge of tears that rose inside of her and stood stone still. Swamped in disappointment, she was speechless. He, too, looked at a loss for words. She scanned her brain for something to say; the only thing that came to mind was his distinguished but closely-guarded military record. So, she kept her eyes trained on him, unable to mask her sadness, and simply said, “conduct unbecoming.” Then she turned and walked away.
Emma heard the elevator doors slide open and a group of bawdy men exit, calling Nathan’s name and greeting him too loudly. Then she rounded the corner, hurried past the bitch at the front desk who looked surprised, and maybe pleased, to see her hustle out. Emma guessed not many women left a meeting with Nathan Bishop this early.
She rushed out the front door as a uniformed doorman held it open and disappeared into the back of the Suburban. JT looked at her from the driver’s seat with concern, but she quickly dismissed him.
“It’s fine. Just a misunderstanding about the time. Let’s go.” She ventured a glance out the window just as Nathan came rushing out. He stood on the sidewalk and looked up and down the street. She was safely hidden behind tinted windows, and he didn’t give the car a second glance. Then he did something totally out of character. The calm, cool, collected Nathan Bishop shoved a rack of luggage over, sending the bags tumbling onto the sidewalk. As the car pulled away, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a wad of bills that he handed to the doorman without looking. Then, he stalked off down the street in the opposite direction.
An hour later, Emma’s text alert sounded. Meeting confirmation: Noon K-B HQ with Mr. Bishop, then a link for directions. Okay then.
When she crawled into bed that night, she mourned the man of her imagination. The silver lining was that she still had the interview. She would still get a byline and an amazing opportunity. She half-laughed and half-cried; how ridiculous she had been to think Nathan would still be that wonderful boy she knew. That would be like thinking she was still the same little girl. Absurd.