That’s what I love about Chase. Half the shit he says is to get a rise out of me, and I respect the hell out of that kind of commitment to ribbing. But when it comes right down to it, the man gets that there are rules of the road, and I need to follow them.

“You’re right. I’ve got to keep the dick in the box.”

He mimes opening a gift box at his waist, and I nod in agreement then point to the hardwood floors. “And you and your different brain parts should definitely get this apartment. It’s a good deal.”

“I think I will. Thanks for checking it out. And hey, if you want a little practice session on how to behave around Natalie, you both should come over to Max’s next weekend. He wanted to throw me a little welcome-back-to-town dinner-thing,” Chase says, mentioning his brother.

“I’m in. And I’ll ask Natalie, too.”

He smacks his forehead. “Oh. Forgot to tell you. She’ll be there. Josie is planning it with Max, so she invited Natalie.”

I roll my eyes. “You’re always up to something.”

“That pretty much describes me perfectly. Oh, and good luck with that little problem of not being able to separate sex and feelings,” he says with an arched eyebrow as we leave.

“You got a pill for that, too, Doctor Dick?”

He gestures to his crotch. “Yeah it’s called Stud Finder.” He thrusts his pelvis once. “And it all points here for the ladies.”

The thing is Chase is all talk. He was madly in love with some girl during his residency, and, well, let’s just say it didn’t work out the way he wanted it to.

He’s right, though. There’s more at stake with Natalie than my white-hot desire to bang her brains out night and day. Or my wish to take her to Coney Island and ride the rollercoaster, or take her to a barbecue, or have her be the one by my side at Nick’s wedding.

What’s at stake is her.

Natalie has a job that matters to her. The more we mess around, the more I risk putting her in an awkward employment situation. Obviously, I’d never fire her because of this, but I want her to feel comfortable at work. I’ve got to respect the woman’s ability to pay her own bills, and since I’m the one who signs her checks, I can’t let my dick, loyal prick that he is, call the shots.

That’s not the kind of man I want to be.

If I keep screwing her, where does that leave her when it all goes south? And it will go south. It’s inevitable. Relationships always do, especially when they start at the office.

25

Natalie waits for me at a coffee stand in the Union Square Farmer’s Market, with a bag of strawberries in one hand and a drink in the other. She waves hello, then gives me the beverage. “The way you like it,” she says, and her comment tugs at something in my chest.

Knowing someone’s coffee order isn’t a big deal in the grand scheme of life, but making the effort to get the cup of joe just right is one of those little things that can make you smile.

However, smiling feels terribly out of place right now. We grab one of the little green tables set up by the edge of the market, surrounded by hipsters chowing down on falafels and drinking ginger sodas. I spin a chair around and park myself in it, resting my forearms over the back. I down a gulp of the coffee and thank her again.

Natalie tucks a strand of her blond hair behind her ear and flashes a quick grin as she sets the strawberries on the table. Dipping her hand into her purse, she grabs some papers. “I downloaded the packet yesterday for an uncontested divorce in New York. There are a ton of forms, and most don’t really apply, but we should go through them anyway. As I understand it, the whole process could take anywhere from six weeks to a few months.”

“Whoa. Why so long?”

“New York makes you jump through hoops.”

She shuffles through forms about division of marital property, liability for joint debts, child custody and support, spousal maintenance, insurance benefits, and a ton of other legal details that make my head spin Exorcist style. Oh, yeah—they also remind me I’m a complete douche for suggesting we get married that night. What was supposed to be fun and daring has turned into a helluva knot to untangle.

I shake my head. “Damn, this really makes me feel like a world-class idiot for proposing in the first place. I had no clue it would turn into such a clusterfuck,” I say through a heavy sigh.

“Me, neither. But what can you do but roll up your sleeves?” She slaps on a smile, and I’ve got to say, I’m impressed she’s rolling with the mess we made of being adults. Then she whispers conspiratorially, “It’s like we’re the naughty kids who snuck out late with the car. But rather than enjoy the thrill of a midnight joyride, we plowed down our neighbor’s mailbox, and now we’re doing extra chores to pay for it.”

I crack up. “Why do I have the feeling you’re speaking from experience?”

She points a thumb at herself. “This girl did that.”

“No shit?”

“Sixteen and far too dangerous for her own good.”

“Since we’re playing confessional,” I open with a drawl, “you’re looking in the mirror.”

Her jaw drops. “You, too?”

“We went to my uncle’s house during the summer, and I took out his Cadillac and accidentally drove over his neighbor’s rose bushes. He was not happy. I had to catch a train to Jersey every Saturday that summer to mow his lawn and trim the hedges to make up for the cost of the roses.”