Shay stood on the curb, looking up at Nate's apartment building. Her time as his assistant had ended the previous week, then she and Ellen had spent a few days in the handover, and she had gone back to accounting.
She had spent three miserable days under The Dragon before she had had enough. Shay had hoped that she would see Nate in the elevator as she once had, but he hadn't been there for three days even though she knew he was working from the office. Coupled with Phee begging Shay to join her, all of this meant it was time.
Shay had thought about turning her resignation into Nate directly and not taking the coward's way out, but she couldn't do it in the end. At lunch, she had told Ellen what she was about to do, and Ellen had been upset but supportive.
Ellen had claimed that it was a fear she had when she offered Shay the job. She thought it would be hard for Shay to transition back to what amounted to a data entry job after facing the challenges of being Nate's assistant.
Shay had waited until today, Friday, and at the end of the day, she had turned in her resignation to The Dragon. The Dragon never made anyone work out their two-week notice, she claimed it was a security issue, and Shay knew this. She knew that it would be her last day working at Wright Financial. Her last day to potentially see Nate on the elevator.
Now, taking every ounce of courage Shay had, she was set to ask Nate for a favor. It was a very personal and private favor, and she was scared to ask him. She was afraid to tell Nate the reasoning behind it.
It had been a brief thought at the time, but a few weeks earlier, when she had wanted to share her worries with someone, and the only person she could think of to share with was Nate, she realized that he was the one she trusted most. Her brief thought had turned into a certainty.
It wasn't anything specific he had done. Shay felt it on a gut level. She knew, without a doubt, that Nate would never do anything to hurt her intentionally, and other than her family, she had never felt that with anyone else.
So why not go to him and ask for help with the one thing she had never trusted anyone with.
Shay had changed into simple blue jeans and a t-shirt because she felt that dressing down might somehow make the ask seem less important. She took a deep breath, wiped her sweaty palms on her jeans then entered the building.
She didn't hear any power tools, but it was late. Shay wondered what she would do if he were not working in the apartment on the third floor. She knew he lived in the building, but she wasn't exactly sure where.
If Nate weren't there, she would take it as a sign and go home. She nodded and climbed the stairs quickly before her nerve ran out. As she reached the top of the third-floor landing, she noticed that the door to the apartment he was working in was open, and the lights were on. Was that a good sign or a bad one?
When she reached the door, she saw Nate alone, bent over a piece of wood with a chisel.
He didn't hear Shay, so she took a minute to watch him for what might be the last time because if he said no to her request, there was no reason for them ever to see each other again.
He was wearing jeans and a t-shirt, but this time he was wearing his glasses to see what he was doing with the chisel. A lock of his brown hair fell over his forehead, and he looked...like home.
"Nate," she softly called when he had set the chisel down.
He spun to look at her with a confused frown.
"Shay, is everything alright?" he placed the piece of wood he was carving down on the makeshift table in front of him.
"Yes, may I come in?" she asked.
He motioned for her to join him and then watched as she walked around, noting the changes from the last time she was there.
"You've done a lot since the last time I was here." Shay walked over to the window and looked down at the street below.
"Why are you here?" he asked with a tilt of his head.
"I wanted to tell you something and ask a favor." Shay cleared her throat, keeping her back to him. After a few minutes of silence, she couldn't take it anymore and turned to face him.
"I turned in my two-weeks notice today, and The Dragon accepted it effective immediately." She watched Nate, whose face remained neutral at the news. "You knew?"
"Ellen told me." Nate nodded. "It's not a surprise."
"Because you believe like Ellen that transitioning back to my old job would be hard, or because you knew my mother would offer me a job?" Shay sat on the windowsill and watched Nate across the room.
He smiled. "Both, I'm glad she offered you a job. Are you mad about it?" he assessed her. "You don't seem mad."
Shay smiled in return. "No, I'm not mad. I guess I could be, but what good would it do. It's a great job, and I'll get to work with my family. It's a win-win for me."
"When do you start?" Nate crossed his arms, and she watched the sinew of muscle play below the skin. Shay had never noticed it before. He always wore dress shirts. She followed the muscle down to his hands; he had the best hands.
"How come you don't have callouses on your hands?" she suddenly asked, and the question caught Nate off guard as his eyes widened.
"I use gloves mostly. I found that cut and calloused hands didn't go over well in my line of work, so I'm careful."
Shay nodded, and Nate waited, realizing that her question was a delaying tactic.
"I'm sorry, this isn't an easy favor to ask." Shay took a shaky breath.
"Here," Nate picked up a piece of sandpaper and handed her a curved piece of wood, "come keep your hands busy. Maybe that will help."
Shay walked over to him and took the sandpaper from him, paying attention to how he told her to go with the wood grain, not against it.
They worked in silence for a few minutes, surrounded by the smell of fresh wood and the sound of sanding. Eventually, Shay threw down the sandpaper and stepped away.
"Nate, can we open that door that you said was better left shut for the time being? Is the time being over now that I don't work for you?" Shay watched as he stopped carving and held the chisel in his hand in a death grip.
"Does – Does this have to do with the favor you want to ask me?" His face was inscrutable.
"In a way." Shay clenched her hands into fists. Just do it. Just ask! She told herself.
"Are you seeing anyone right now? I know that Danica is in the picture, but are you and she having...I mean, are you available..." Oh, it was going horribly wrong! Shay wanted the floor to open up and swallow her, but she couldn't stop talking. "Then there's Corey-" Shay trailed off. She had been determined never to bring up Corey.
"Corey?" Nate asked in confusion.
"Corrina?"
He still looked confused.
"Corrina Volker? My roommate, the model. You took her out, and neither one of you returned for three days." Now she was mad. Maybe he wasn't the man she thought he was if he could brush Corey off so easily.
"Ahh, Corrina. I couldn't say what she did with her weekend, but I dropped her off at a local hotel by midnight and then flew out the next morning to Atlanta."
"You didn't spend the weekend with her?" Shay asked, shocked.
"No, it was simply convenient for us to attend the party together. It was never more than that." He frowned. "Does this have to do with the favor you want to ask me?"
Shay nodded as relief flooded through her.
"I – I want you to make love to me. I have never enjoyed sex, but I think, with you, I would, and now that I don't work with you, I thought it might be possible." Shay watched as Nate's face paled before all the blood rushed to it, and he turned bright red.
"I -I n-need a d-drink," he stuttered before he turned and left the apartment.
Shay stood there, at a loss as to what she should do.
"Are you coming?" he asked, popping his head around the door.
Shay nodded and followed him out of the apartment, watching as he locked the door behind him. Shay thought he would lead her down the stairs and to a local bar, but instead, he climbed up the stairs to the top floor, where he opened the door to another apartment.
"I thought we would go to a bar," Shay said.
"Not for this conversation," Nate replied, closing the door firmly behind him.
Shay felt hopeful that there would be a conversation and that it wasn't an immediate no.