“Since when does Natalie Foster work for you?”

I ignore Luke’s pestering and focus on the fiscal report that’s in front of me. I want to be busy. I need to be distracted. Especially after the day I just had.

“You’re going to have to tell me at some point,” Luke chuckles, putting both feet on the couch.

“Don’t you have anything better to do!?” I snap back angrily. “I have an idea... Why don’t you go somewhere else and prepare for your interview?”

Luke shrugs. “I think I’ll be okay... I like to wing these kind of things.”

I clench my fists, debating whether I should throw the TV remote in his face. Maybe then he’d leave me alone. “I don’t think Mother would be happy if she knew you were wasting your time doing nothing.”

“Can’t you see that I want to spend time with you, Roman... Besides, since when do you care if mom is happy or not?” Luke snorts.

I shake my head. “I don’t... Why don’t you go check out the gym? You look like you need a workout.”

“You have a gym in your house?!”

“I live in a penthouse, Luke. There are a lot of things here... On second thought, instead of lounging in my living room, why don’t you go explore my house... Maybe then, I’ll be able to focus on this report.”

“Fine! If you really want me gone, I’ll go...”

As Luke disappears around the corner, I can’t help but sigh with relief. I love my brother, but his meddlesome personality is unbearable at times. He’s just like our mother in that regard.

Redirecting my gaze to the report on my laptop, I make an attempt to concentrate, but my mind keeps wandering back to Natalie. I can’t shake my frustration regarding the day’s events. From the moment I walked into the office until I left, she treated me as though I were invisible, an unwanted presence. It’s clear she’s angry at me, and I hate that all I can do is wonder how long it’ll be before she talks to me again.

I open the can of iced tea that’s been in my pocket for hours, hoping it’ll help clear some of my thoughts. Even though I know how absurd the situation is, and that I’m absolutely not at fault, I can’t help but feel a pang of guilt.

Maybe I’m feeling this way because Natalie has been projecting her own idealized version of who I should be, rather than who I am. It’s clear she’s got a unique perception of me, and I can’t quite grasp where it comes from. Does she think I’m some paragon of ethics and justice, always ready to lend a helping hand? Is that what drove her to seek my help in breaking up her sister’s wedding?

Shaking my head in frustration, I set the can of iced tea on the floor. I’m angry with myself. I’m annoyed by my own thoughts. The only reason I can think of why she’d come to me is because of our past. During my childhood years, I was like an older brother to Natalie. Whenever Madeleine and I played together, she’d tag along, and we’d take care of her.

No! It still doesn’t make sense! I don’t think she’d trust me just because I was nice to her when we were kids...

Thinking back on it, was it possible that I was missing some of my memories? I couldn’t put my finger on it. When it came to my high school years, my recollections of Natalie were notably scarce. In fact, I could only recall one instance where I’d seen her. It was a memory of her in the library, braces glistening, glasses perched on her nose. I was in my senior year and she was a freshman...

Is that why I feel strangely responsible for her?

I knew that in a perfect world, what I was suggesting would seem irrational. Crazy even. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case for me. Back in my senior year of high school, I’d been in a car accident where I suffered severe trauma to the head. Or at least, that’s what I was told. Even after a decade, I had little to no recollection of the actual accident. All I remembered was waking up to the bright lights of the hospital...

“Dude, your crib is amazing!” Luke yells, snapping me out of my thoughts. “How expensive was this freaking place?”

Deciding that there’s no way I’ll get through this fucking report, I close my laptop and toss it on the couch. “I’m not entirely sure.”

“At least give me an estimate,” Luke pleads as he falls on the couch, nearly hitting my laptop.

If he hits my laptop, I’ll fucking break his nose...

“It’s worth just over thirty million.”

“Thirty million dollars?!”

I nod.

“That’s insane,” Luke exclaims.

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I shake my head and sigh as I head to the kitchen. I’ve grown tired of playing the numbers game, especially with people close to me. Truth be told, I don’t like talking about how much money I have. Maybe a couple of years ago I would have been more excited to show off my wealth, but not anymore. I’ve grown used to it.

“What do you want for dinner?” I call out, making sure Luke can hear me from the living room.

“I want pizza, but I’m good with whatever.”

I chuckle at his response. Sometimes it feels like Luke can read my mind. It’s been almost a year since I’ve eaten pizza, and in these last couple of weeks, I’ve been craving to have one. “What kind?”

I hear Luke walk into the kitchen just as I finish setting the timer for my coffee machine. “I’m good with whatever... Preferably, pepperoni.”

“I see that you still have zero taste, little brother.”

“We both know pepperoni pizza is the way to go,” Luke says, snapping his fingers.

“I disagree.”

“Do you? Don’t tell me your capitalistic palette has become too fancy for peasant food?!”

Ok, that’s it! I’ve had it with this little shit...

Just as I’m about to unleash a torrent of words at my brother, a vibration in my pocket interrupts my brewing storm. I let out a sigh as I reach for my phone.

“What?!” I bark into the mic, my irritation already at its peak.

“Do you always answer your calls like that!?” The voice on the other end takes me by surprise, and I recognize it instantly. It’s Natalie!

Before I can reply, Natalie launches a full frontal assault. “I’m really angry at you, Roman... You know, before I started working for you, I heard from so many people that you were this big, heartless asshole. People told me you were someone I should steer clear of.” There’s a pause, filled with a sigh. “I never believed them. I thought they were lying. I always believed you were the same nice boy I knew when we were kids... I thought that if there was somebody out there who would help me and support me, it’d be you...”

As her voice quivers, I detect the sound of tears, and I’m left bewildered by the whole situation. I never expected this call, let alone the emotional outpouring.

“Are you okay?” I ask, my voice far softer than I intended.

“What do you care?” she retorts bitterly, but her anger is laced with vulnerability.

I roll my eyes, but the truth is, I care more than I’d like to admit. I know well enough to recognize the signs, and the background noise suggests that she’s out somewhere, not in the best state of mind.

“Where are you?” I ask, clenching my fists. It’s clear she’s been drinking, and I’m afraid something bad might happen if I do nothing.

Natalie hesitates for a moment, and I can hear her struggle internally. She finally gives in, sighing softly. “I’m at Goto, the bar down on Eldridge.”

“Stay put, don’t leave,” I instruct, my concern overshadowing my irritation with her. “I’ll be there in twenty.”

* * *

I instruct George to wait in the car, giving him a few vague words about a friend who needs help, then quickly make my way to the dimly lit Japanese bar. The scent of sizzling teriyaki and the murmur of patrons fill the air as I enter. I scan the room, my eyes adjusting to the dim lighting.

I spot her in a dim corner, her fiery hair like a beacon in the dark. Natalie sits alone, nursing a glass of what I assume is something stronger than apple juice. She doesn’t notice me immediately. I take a moment to watch her discreetly, an unexpected sense of protectiveness washing over me.

As I approach her, I notice the frustration in her eyes as she stares at her drink. Her once feisty attitude now seems sombre, her snippiness replaced by a sense of vulnerability. It’s not the Natalie I’ve seen in these last couple of days.

“What do you think you're doing?!” I ask, sliding into the seat next to hers. She jumps in her chair, her wide eyes meeting mine, her cheeks flushed from the alcohol.

“Roman?” She blinks in surprise and then scowls. “What are you doing here?”

I chuckle, leaning back in my chair. “You called me. Remember?”

Her expression is a mix of skepticism and frustration. “I did!? I don’t remember... Whatever the case, why’d you come? I thought you didn’t care?”

Before I can reply, she takes another sip of her drink and looks away. It’s hard to read her. Her emotions seem to be flickering from irritation to something else, something more vulnerable.

“What’s going on, Natalie?” I ask, my voice softer this time. “Why are you here?”

She scoffs, trying to brush it off, but the vulnerability returns to her eyes. “I don’t need you to babysit me, Roman. Just go back to your fancy penthouse and leave me alone.”

Despite her snippy response, I can tell something is bothering her. I can see it in the way her shoulders slump and the weariness in her eyes. Funnily enough, she used to do the same thing when we were children. Whenever she got caught when we played tag, she’d pull that same face until either Madeleine or I conceded and gave her a second chance.

“Natalie, I’m not here to babysit you,” I say firmly. “I just want to make sure you’re safe.”

Her icy exterior cracks, and she glares at me with a mixture of anger and fragility. “Stop acting like you care, Roman... After all, we haven’t seen each other in forever...”

“So what if we haven’t seen each other in a while?”

“Just leave me alone, ” Natalie says, rolling her eyes.

I lean in closer, our faces only inches apart, my voice low and serious. “There's nothing you can say to change my mind... I can't leave you like this.”

Her gaze wavers, and for a moment, the fire in her eyes softens. "I... I still don't understand why you're doing this..."

"Because I care about you, Natalie! Why else would I be here?"

"You... you care about me?"

I reach out and gently take her hand, surprising both of us with the touch. Her fingers feel warm, a stark contrast to the cool facade she usually maintains. “Yes, I do.”

What the fuck am I even doing?! Why am I holding her hand?!?

She hesitates for a moment, her guard wavering. “Does that mean you’ll help me? With my sister that is...”

I can’t help but smile, my thumb tracing circles on her hand. “I think that’s a conversation for another time.”

She pulls her hand away and scowls at me. “No! I want to talk now!”

My God... How can she be so adorable when she’s drunk?

I chuckle. “Can we at least go somewhere else to speak? I can barely hear myself through the music...”

Natalie finally manages a small smile, though it’s still laced with skepticism. “Fine, you win. Let’s go somewhere else.”

“Alright, let’s get you out of here,” I say as I help her up.

As we walk through the bar, there’s a subtle shift in our dynamic. The familiar snippiness remains, but there’s something else between us now, something that suggests we’re more than just old acquaintances. I lead her to the car where George is waiting and help her inside.

“Where to, sir?” George asks as he slips into the driver’s seat.

I pull out my phone and text Luke to wait for me in the lobby. “Take us to my place.”