The Marshall Boy

Thirty-seven

Thirty-seven.
Lucy.

Our small town has a bed and breakfast that people refer to as a hotel; it's dumb, I know, but it makes our small town feel less small. The bed and breakfast was the home of a Civil War veteran whose wife left him during the war; the story goes that he came home, found out he was left alone, and shot himself- this story is why the town's children think it's haunted. Bobby's Mom's family has always run the bed and breakfast, and it was passed down to her. I know every inch of this place, because of all the play dates Bobby and I had; I was an expert at hiding during hide and seek. 

I expect to see the bubbly blonde behind the front desk, but it's strangely empty. Luck is on my side- I didn't want a lot of people to know I was showing up here. I sneak up the wooden stairs, heading toward the second floor. The first floor is reserved for special out of town people, while the second floor is for not so important people. However, the room at the end of the hall is the nicest one. I tread down the hallway toward the oak door, feeling my heart begin to race. 

It's a simple task really. 

I have to seduce Nate for at least five minutes, so he doesn't get suspicious. Then, once Blake calls him and gets him out of the room, I have to search his computer for anything linking him to the embezzlement, and framing Blake. We need to evidence to be here so that we can have the police clear Blake's name and arrest Nate.

A simple task really. 

I knock on the door, two quiet knocks, and fix my hair nervously. I wore a nice sweater and jeans, along with tan booties. It resembles the outfit I was wearing the first time I met Nate. I know his fascination with me has nothing to do with me personally and everything to do with who I am to Blake. He has a vendetta against the man who gave him an opportunity and today, I'm going to use it against him. 

The door opens, and Nate's eyes meet mine. I send him a closed mouth smile, tilting my head and holding up the wine bottle I bought. "I figured we could hang out, like you've been wanting."

Nate rubs a hand over his face, a smirk playing on his lips as he opens the door wider. I enter the lion's den, trying to keep my footing steady and not show how nervous I am. I take in the room, my gaze immediately landing on the laptop setting on the desk in the corner. The door shuts and I fight not to flinch. 

This could save Blake. I have to get it right. 

I turn, smiling over at the blonde, who's watching me as he leans against the door. I wonder what either Jessica or Marlee ever saw in him. Maybe it wasn't so obvious what a terrible person he was when he was younger. Maybe in LA he wasn't money hungry, and willing to do whatever it took to get what he wanted. Maybe he was good. 

"So, you like wine then?" Nate asks, crossing his arms over his chest and letting his eyes trail over my body. I fight not to fidget, and keep my composure. 

"I do," I confirm, even though I don't. I don't drink, since I've seen what it does to the people I serve it to. But Nate doesn't need to know that. 

"So," Nate drawls the word out, and my pulse quickens as he leans off the door and moves toward me. "You plan to get me drunk, and have your way with me?" My heart hammers in my chest as he stands in front of me, mere inches away. If he touches me, I might throw up. I release a quiet breath when he grabs the bottle, and steps back, inspecting it. 

"It's from my Dad's cellar." I lie, walking to the bed and taking a seat. I cross my legs, leaning back on my hands and watching him. 

Nate whistles, sending me a grin before walking to the mini fridge. He grabs two cups on the top of it, and pops the bottle. I'm thankful he's turned, so he doesn't see me jump from the sound. "This is some classic stuff." He comments.