Last Summer(53)

“Tell me, Nathan,” she begins, moving on to the coatrack. Her quilted coat and the hiking jacket she doesn’t remember leaving at Nathan’s house won’t cut it in Alaska’s Pacific coast windchill. “What else did we talk about?”

He removes his jacket and hooks it over his arm. Thinks for a moment. “Your brother. How’s his app coming along?”

“Come Over Rover? Great. He’s found an investor.” She pushes aside coats on the rack. Selecting one at random, she shows Nathan.

“Try it on,” he suggests, and she does. The thick blue parka, lined with sheep’s wool with a faux trimmed hood, fits well. Flipping up the hood, she extends her arms and turns full circle. “Well?” she asks.

“You remind me of a toddler stuffed into a snowsuit.”

She laughs. “Good. It’ll keep me warm.”

“Excuse me, are you Nathan Donovan?” asks a young woman neither of them had seen approach. Two friends flank her. All three are decked in knit snow caps and snowboard pants that bunch at their ankles. Sun-kissed cheeks and windburned noses with a defined outline in the shape of their ski goggles adorn their ChapStick-commercial perfect faces.

Nathan looks to Ella. She can tell he wants to say no, but he pastes on a smile and forces out an “I am.”

“I loved your show,” she gushes. “May we take a selfie with you?”

She has her phone out with the camera app open before she finishes her question.

“I’m going to pay for these.” Ella points at her basket. “Meet you up front.”

Nathan barely acknowledges her. The woman already has her arm around him, and the other two women are pulling out their phones.

By the time the salesclerk rings up and bags Ella’s items, a small gathering has formed around Nathan. They demand autographs and selfies. They want to know when his next series starts. Where does he live? Is he vacationing in Truckee? Who’s the woman he’s with? Does that mean he and Stephanie aren’t getting back together? Are they going to have another kid since Carson died?

Nathan’s face pales and Ella’s stomach lurches. The nerve of some people. A staff member tries dispersing the crowd, but they are all over him. Nathan has been off the grid for too long. Everyone is too caught up in getting his attention and the scoop on his next move.

His gaze meets hers over their heads. A sheen of sweat shines his forehead. Ella would expect that a celebrity with his degree of popularity would be used to this level of exposure and have the charisma to step away from the crowd graciously. She’d seen Steve Young do it on numerous occasions while shopping at Stanford Shopping Center when she was growing up. But Nathan is backed into a corner, trapped between the coatrack and sock bin. He looks like he’s about to panic.

“Excuse me.” Ella pushes between a heavyset woman and an adolescent boy and wraps an arm around Nathan’s waist. “Nathan, darling. We’re going to be late.”

“Sorry, peeps. Gotta bounce.” Nathan’s arm drops around her shoulders. Phones click in their faces. He looks at her with relief.

Threading her fingers through his and keeping his arm tight around her, she maneuvers them through racks of clothes and out the emergency exit in back. An alarm blares when Nathan shoves open the door. They don’t stop until they reach her car in the parking lot. Releasing his hand and her breath, she searches for her keys.

“That was so bizarre,” she says on a laugh, and the laugh builds. She can’t stop herself and sags against the car.

Nathan just smiles, waiting for the moment to pass.

“All right, you’ve had your fun,” he says when Ella settles down.

“Whew, I needed that.” She exhales, holding her ribs, then grins up at him. “Admit it, I was totally your bodyguard.”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “Cutest bodyguard ever.” They share a smile, then Ella sobers.

“Is it always like that for you?” His fans had even made her feel claustrophobic.

“When I get caught out in public, yes,” he says, his pale face slowly returning to its normal shade of winter tan. He shoves his hands into his pockets. “Thanks for that.”

“You’re welcome. Why didn’t you tell them you had to leave or something?”

“I tried following you to the checkout counter, but . . . Confession?” Nathan lifts his cap and tunnels his fingers into his hair. His hand shakes. “I get anxious in a crowd. It’s why I left New York.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.” She shouldn’t have left him. “Did I know that about you?” He might have told her before. She might have witnessed it before.

He shakes his head. “I’ve never mentioned it to anyone. It’s only bad when people get into my space and I don’t have a way out.”

Nathan’s expression is strained. He sounds perturbed, and for the first time, Ella catches a glimpse of what his life has been like. No wonder he plays the part of a hermit and grew a beard so that he could move about town incognito.

“I shouldn’t have left you. I’m sorry it got out of control in there.”

“It wasn’t too bad. I should be used to it by now, but . . .” He shrugs. “The outdoors, that’s my game. Best forewarn you, though: don’t be surprised if those shots show up on social media.”