Abby shrugged. “Only provided that he says more during the interview than when he shows up unexpectedly.”
“Why would he agree to an interview if he didn’t want to talk or answer questions?” Andy asked.
“Maybe he’s only being Mr. Weirdo around Jena,” Abby suggested. “Hey, it could be. Maybe in normal life he is...well, a normal guy.”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. The interview is this afternoon and...gosh, I’m nervous. I really hope that I’ll finally get some answers, and I can’t imagine him sitting there refusing to say a word. But when I saw him last night after Ryan had told me, he didn’t say anything. He seemed pleased that I’d finally figured out his name. But when I mentioned the interview, he just turned and walked away, which, of course, is not an unusual behavior for him. I just...I just don’t really know what to expect. How do you get something out of someone who is unwilling to talk to you?”
They both shrugged.
“Good.” I nodded. “You’re a great help!”
***
I had butterflies in my stomach all morning, and when lunch time came around, I was still too nervous to eat. I paced the floor in my office, rode the elevator down a couple of times to the sandwich stand on the sidewalk by the office building only to decide that I was too nervous to eat after all and then went back up. I noticed a few confused and half-amused looks from my colleagues, but then and there, I couldn’t have cared less about what they were thinking about my non-existent professionalism.
I kept glancing at my watch, and when it finally turned three, I was sure to be only moments away from a heart attack. To try and steady my nerves, I took a couple of deep breaths, inhaling and exhaling slowly. It didn’t work though. I felt completely jittery. How embarrassing was that?
Standing in the door frame of my office, I looked down the corridor at the elevator. Every time it stopped and people got off, my heart, too, stopped for a split second, only resuming its pace when he was not among them.
I took another deep breath, looking down at the floor and closing my eyes for a moment. When I looked back up, there he suddenly was. At the end of the corridor. He was saying something to Greg from sports section. Greg then turned around and pointed at me.
When his eyes followed in the direction indicated by Greg and he finally saw me, I was sure I was about to faint, hands almost painfully clinging to the door frame for balance.
A friendly smile appeared on his face as his eyes met mine.
Watching him heading towards me, I reminded myself to play my part and forced a friendly smile on my face as well.
“Hello,” he said, and the smile on his face reached his eyes. “You must be Jena Gardner. I’m Nathan Alexander. Nice to meet you.”
He held out his hand, and I took it, feeling a faint electric charge as his skin touched mine. “Likewise,” I said, but it sounded a little shaky.
Was he really pretending he didn’t know me? I couldn’t believe it, and for a moment, I just stared at him, dumbfounded.
A corner of his mouth curled into a confused one-sided grin. “Shall we get started?”
“Yes, of course,” I said hastily, beckoning him to sit down while I took my place behind the desk, having another look at my notes.
For a second, I was unsure if the man in my office really was the same guy. However, except for the fact that he wore different clothes, he looked completely the same.
Looking at him again, I realized that that might not be true altogether. The man before me had an easy, carefree smile on his face. He was friendly and outgoing, and it showed. He easily got in contact with people, and they liked him.
However, the man I had seen again last night in the parking lot had seemed troubled, fearful even. He never spoke much and always appeared to be driven by some kind of hidden agenda–good or bad–that turned his smile into a frown.
“Everything all right?” he asked.
“What?” I said, startled. “Yes, sure.”
“You seem somewhat distracted,” he observed, a devilish grin appearing on his face. “Let me guess, you didn’t want to do this interview in the first place, but your boss made you, and now you’re subconsciously mad at me because I’m the indirect cause for you being stuck here with me. How am I doing?”
I felt my lips turn into a confused grin. “Cute little story you came up with. Did it spring from the genius mind behind all those bestsellers?”
He laughed. “Oh, quick on the comebacks! I’m impressed.”
I felt myself relax. “Well, considering the people I am forced to deal with every day, I have to be. It’s pure survival instinct.”
“That bad?” he asked.
I rolled my eyes. “You have no idea.”
“Well, then keep’em coming,” he said, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “Feel free to practice on me all you like.”
I laughed.
“So, be honest,” he started, clearing his throat. “Am I one of them?”
I frowned. “One of what?”
“One of the people you’re forced to deal with.”
Again, I laughed. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” I eyed him curiously, but he held my gaze without blinking. “Quite frankly, I haven’t made up my mind yet.”
“Is there anything I can do to help?” he asked.
“You could answer some questions.”
“Okay, shoot,” he said, comfortably leaning back in his chair. “What do you got?”
I walked him through the obvious questions any bestselling author would be asked. How he got his ideas? If he believed what he wrote about to be truly possible? When he had started writing? What his friends and family thought of his success? If he had ever imagined his books to be this successful? And so on.
He was very open and forthcoming, answering everything I asked with frank honesty. All the while, a good-natured sense of humor showed in his eyes. With every word, my nervousness evaporated into nothing as though it had never existed. Time passed quickly, and I was surprised how comfortable I already felt in his presence after only such a short moment. But he was so different from the man who frequently jumped into my life, only to confuse me with his tight-lippedness.
That thought, however, collided with the realization that I still wasn’t any closer to an answer I so much desired. Who was he? And how did we know each other?
Looking at him, at the way he had reacted when we’d met and now at the way he spoke to me, I wasn’t so sure if he really knew me. Nevertheless, this was a unique opportunity, and I was determined not to let it slip away.
“I guess writing them down is the only way I can get these ideas out of my head,” he said, chuckling. “Sometimes I actually feel like my head weighs a ton whenever there is too much spooking around in it. It’s a form of therapy. Honestly, if I didn’t write them down, I’d probably go crazy. The fact that other people enjoy reading the rantings of my feeble mind is just a…slightly weird but positive side effect.”
Now and then, I found myself staring at him, marveling at his talkative nature that seemed a bit surreal at times. And whenever he caught me staring, he would wink at me, and I would blush. This little game had been going on for a while when he suddenly sat forward and openly looking at me said, “This is the most bizarre interview I’ve ever been to.”
Once again, I blushed. “Sorry,” I said, quickly averting my eyes. “This is not really my forte.”
He shrugged. “Don’t worry. It’s refreshing not to be dealing with hard-core fans all the time. They can be rather overwhelming. It’s quite nice that you haven’t read my book.”
I jumped, startled. “How did you know?” I asked, feeling embarrassed.
He grinned at me. “I can always tell. Call it a sixth sense.”
“I’m sorry. I really should have. This was a last-minute thing. A friend asked me to do this because his little girl has a soccer tournament this afternoon,” I babbled, completely thrown off my game. I had never liked it when people called my bluff. Not
that it happened a lot, especially considering that I hardly ever bluffed. Maybe because I simply had no talent for it.
He just waved my concerns away. “As I said, I prefer it this way. Makes life more unpredictable and somehow more authentic. So, what else do you want to know?”
I frowned at him then. “For a writer, you sure do talk a lot.”
He shrugged. “You ask a lot.”
I laughed. “I meant that writers often feel more comfortable with a piece of paper and a pen. They are not big on the talking thing.”
Again, he shrugged. “Well, I guess in ancient times people actually did use paper and pen to write a novel,” I chuckled, “but today I have to say I’d much prefer a computer. It’s handier.” He grinned. “And about the talking thing, what can I say? I’m a chatterbox.”
“I see.”
“I’ve always had too many thoughts in my head and gladly take every opportunity to throw them out. By which means doesn’t really matter to me. Whatever is more convenient at the moment. But if you prefer, I could pass you little notes with my answers.” Again, there was that devilish grin as though he was challenging me, only waiting for a reaction that would give him fuel for another one of his smart-ass remarks.
Suddenly, to my embarrassment, my stomach growled. It was almost dinner time, and I had hardly eaten anything since that pop tart this morning.
For the ten millionth time that day, I blushed and looked away, flipping through my notes to have something to do.
There was humor in his voice as he spoke. “Hey, I’d ask you to dinner, but unfortunately I’m already otherwise engaged. How about lunch tomorrow?”
Surprised, I lifted my head. There was a touch of mischief in his eyes, but his face was serious. “Are you asking me out?”
A corner of his mouth curled up, his eyes flashing to the left before they looked at me again. He shrugged. “If you don’t find that unprofessional.”
“Maybe a little.” I had trouble keeping a straight face.
He leaned forward. “Too much to say yes?”
“I didn’t say that.” I was still trying to suppress a grin.
He nodded. “I’m glad you didn’t. Tomorrow then?” he asked before a slightly confused frown appeared on his face. “Why are you shaking your head?”
I smiled at him, unaware that I had. “I’m just…” I looked him straight in the eyes, searching for an answer. The truth. I didn’t know. “I’m just trying to figure out why you keep pretending that we don’t know each other?” The words came out before I had decided to say them.
His eyebrows rose in surprise. Then he leaned back in his chair, grinning.
Chapter Eighteen – Knowing
He was still looking at me, his eyes now searching my face. “We know each other?” he asked.
I nodded. “Yes, we do.”
He shook his head, but there was an amused twitch in his lips as he said, “That can’t be. You, I’d definitely remember.”
Ignoring the compliment, I leaned back, crossing my arms. “What? Are you calling me a liar?”
A smile lit his face. “Then why don’t I remember knowing you?”
I couldn’t help but laugh, having abandoned rationality so long ago. “If that’s all you’re worried about…believe me, stranger things have happened to me.”
“Really?” His eyebrows rose for a second as he leaned forward. “Now, that sounds promising.”
“So, you really don’t know me?” I asked, my voice serious again. Maybe he really didn’t. Maybe the him I knew really was from a time in the future. Maybe this was how we met.
He shook his head. “I wish I did.” His eyes met mine. “But can’t we remedy that?”
I smiled at him. “I guess so.” I was glad he had asked. I really wanted to get to know him better. At least the Nathan in front of me had no problem communicating his intentions.
As he leaned back in his chair, that hint of mischief was back in his eyes. “So, how do we know each other?”
My eyes narrowed. “I thought you just said we didn’t.”
“I did,” he confirmed. “However, you are convinced that we do, so tell me how.”
For a moment, I eyed him carefully, thinking about whether or not to tell him. Then I shook my head. “Not a chance. That is a discussion for a later meeting.”
“Okay,” he said, looking a little disappointed. “At least something to look forward to.” He rose from his chair. “So, tomorrow then?”
I stepped around my desk and nodded. “All right. Tomorrow.”
“Where do you want to go?”
“How about City Gardens? Two-ish?”
He nodded. “Sounds good.” That devilish grin returned to his face. “It was really nice meeting you,” he said, holding out his hand. “Bizarre, but very entertaining.”
I smiled, taking his hand. “I’m glad you had fun.” Again, my skin seemed to vibrate as he touched me, and I swallowed, trying to mask the shiver that went down my back.
Nodding his head vigorously, he said, “Oh, I did.”
He opened the door and left my office, but before he vanished down the corridor, he turned back. “See you tomorrow then.”
Standing in the door frame, I watched him head toward the elevator. My eyes didn’t stray from him for one second. He was so very different from the man I had met before. I caught one last amused grin before the elevator doors closed and he was gone.
I felt a smile spread across my face that I was unable to wipe off. Feeling jittery all over–but in a good way–I leaned against the door frame and closed my eyes for a second. After all this confusion of the last few weeks, I felt almost as light as a feather, with nothing weighing me down. The future looked a little more promising than it had this morning. It was so unexpected.
With a last look at the closed elevator doors, I turned back to my office. Then something at the other end of the corridor caught my eye. I turned towards it and felt my heart skip a beat and my breath catch in my throat.
Open-mouthed, I stared at the man I had just seen get on the elevator and leave. And yet, only a few feet away, there he stood looking at me.
I blinked, hoping that I wasn’t seeing what I was seeing. But he was still there. Still looking at me like he had so many times.
Without thinking, I rushed over to him, staring into his face.
It was Nathan. I was sure of it. I recognized him without a doubt. The same feeling that always crawled up my spine and made my stomach flutter settled over me once again.
“How did you get here?” I asked, shaking my head in disbelief. “You just left.” But at the same time, I knew that this was not the same man who’d left my office only a moment earlier.
“What’s going on here?” I whispered, starting to feel faint.
His warm eyes looked down at me again. They were the same. Only they held no humor, no twinkle of mischief. There was no smile on his face. Instead, his features once more held incredible sadness tinged by a hint of fear.
He took my hand, and the feel of his touch reminded me of shaking Nathan’s hand back in my office. I knew they were the same person. And yet, they weren’t.
Leaning down to me, his eyes looked into mine imploringly. “You need to hurry,” he whispered. “He needs you.” He squeezed my hand. “He needs you to come back.”
***
Driving home, I had trouble keeping my thoughts and eyes focused on the road. So much had happened, and none of it made sense. I had thought that finding out his name would slowly bring me down the road to answers I had been seeking for a while now. But after what had happened that night, I felt like I was farther away from anything remotely resembling an answer than I ever had been.
Suddenly, I felt tired. So incredibly tired. I just wanted to lie down and sleep and let my dreams carry me back to where I belonged. To where life was not an endless line of questions.
At home, I headed straight for the bathroom, lit a few candles and sank into the bathtub. The flickerin
g light and the warm water slowly started to sooth my strained nerves, and I felt myself relax. With my head laid back, I closed my eyes and breathed in the candles’ aromatic scent rising up and climbing onto the tiny drops of humidity hanging in the air.
I sighed as I felt my mind drift off, relieved to abandon my hold on reality. If only for a moment.
It was a short moment though.
Suddenly, the phone rang, its shrill, piercing screams yanking me wide awake.
“Damn it!” I cursed, climbing out of the tub and slipping into a bathrobe before I headed into my bedroom.
Abby really had perfect timing. She’d probably want to know everything that had happened tonight. It had actually been insane of me to think I’d have a quiet evening to myself when she was probably dying with curiosity. Unfortunately, Abby was the kind of person unable to contain it. If she felt it, she released it. Thinking about it, I thought it strange that she hadn’t called sooner.
“What?” I barked into the phone.
For a moment, there was silence. Then someone asked, “What did I do?” To my surprise, it was not Abby’s voice.
“Nathan?” I asked, disbelief clinging to my mind.
He chuckled. “Wow, I didn’t know we were on a first-name basis.”
I sank down on the bed. “Sorry, I…eh.”
Laughing, he said, “Hey, that was a joke. Is it a bad time?”
“No,” I quickly replied. “Not at all.”
“Really?” he sounded doubtful. “It sure sounded like it was.”
“Do you want me to hang up?” I asked, annoyance in my voice.
“Are you always this touchy?”
“Are you always this rude?” I snapped.
He actually laughed. “All right, shall we call it a tie?”
“Fine,” I said, already feeling my annoyance dissipate. It was the strangest thing. Within seconds, he would get me all worked up, but at the same time, I felt really comfortable with him around. Even just on the phone.
“Hey, tell me honestly,” he said, “do I come across as a bit needy for calling you so soon? You don’t feel stalked, do you?”