A/N: *Ahem* So some pictures came out recently of Nick and Anna Maria doing a Friends for Change thing, and now all of my Natella bunnies are going crazy. I mean obviously they've *been* going crazy since the last three things I've posted have been Natella, but it had been calming down some and I had started to work on stories for other pairings. But then *BAM* they're back. Because Nick and Anna Maria are so FREAKING adorable. Just sayin'.
Anxiety
by angellwings
for Beth and Kendra.
Beth for letting me turn her into a Natella fan (even if she has her own ideas for both Ella and Nate seperately).
And Kendra for sending me the link to the most awesome picture ever.
There was one person left to tell. Just one.
And he was not going to be happy with her.
But what was she supposed to do? This was the opportunity of a lifetime. How often did someone fresh out of design school get a chance to style so many different artists? Not very. She'd heard the horror stories about competitiveness and the terrible job market. She was damn lucky to get this offer. She had no choice but to take it.
Or at least that's what she told herself.
The truth was…she really wanted it. And she knew a lot of her friends wouldn't approve.
If only it didn't mean she'd have to work for Axel Turner.
That was the only wrench being thrown into this plan. Okay, not the only wrench. Luke Williams wasn't exactly someone she'd listed in the pros column either.
But was it her fault that Axel Turner ran the largest and most profitable record label in the business? Or that he had so many artists out on tour that he needed to hire more up and coming designers?
No, it was not.
At least Dana had been happy about it. Tess had nodded in understanding and patted her hand. Caitlyn had sighed and said, "Be careful. And don't sell your soul." Mitchie had been surprisingly stoic about the whole thing and Peggy had told her she was making a big mistake. Shane told her she'd regret it. Jason had wished her luck (all the while wearing his disappointed face), and Brown…
Well, Brown hadn't spoken to her since.
That just left…Nate.
Brown and Nate had been the last two people on her list. They were the people she'd feared telling the most. The one's who's opinions she respected, and the one's she knew were the least likely to be happy with her.
Telling Brown had been a disaster. And she knew telling Nate would be the same.
But it wasn't like she could chicken out. It would be worse if she just never told him. So, she was going to butter him up first. She'd brought his favorites. Lots of Diet Coke and (with a little help from Mitchie) Connie's famous potato salad. Ella threw in a few of her own Oatmeal, peanut butter, and chocolate chip cookies for good measure.
Once he was in a good mood she'd tell him. Then, at least, he would remember she fed him well whenever he kicked her out of his life.
All right, so that statement might be a bit dramatic. She gulped and rang Nate's doorbell. She really couldn't believe how terrified she was. It was just Nate. Her friend. Her really good friend who had supported her in everything. There's no way it would be as bad as she imagined.
Nate opened the door and grinned at her. His grin faltered at the sight of all the food containers in her arms. "You need to talk don't you?"
"No," Ella lied. "I just, you know, felt like bring you food. Is that so bad?"
"With you? Yes, it's always bad. Whenever you bring food over long emotionally charged talks often follow."
"That is so not true," She stated in an offended tone.
"Oh really?" Nate asked as he took the containers from her and motioned her inside. "The last time you brought food over you spent the entire night yelling at me because your idiot ex rubbed his new girlfriend 'all up' in your face. Yes, you used the phrase 'all up'. I remember it with perfect clarity."
"So? That was ice cream. It totally didn't—"
"And then the day after Thanksgiving you brought over all your leftovers and spent the day sobbing on my shoulder," He told her in a softer tone as he set everything down on his kitchen counter.
She sighed. "My family stresses me out, but if it bothers you so much—"
"No," He said quickly. "It doesn't bother me. I don't mind at all. I just want you to understand why you're coming over here with a container of cookies and Connie's potato salad makes me worry."
She closed her eyes and rubbed her temples. "This is not going as planned."
"What was your plan?" He asked.
"I'd show up, and make sure you were in a good mood—"
"By filling me full of soda, potato salad, and home made cookies," Nate said with a chuckle.
Ella didn't laugh.
Now he was really worried.
"And then I would tell you some bad news. Or at least, what you'll consider bad news. Even though I'm very excited about it."
"If you're excited about it then why won't I like it?" Nate asked.
"Because it means I'll be working for someone neither of us really like."
He breathed a sigh of relief. "You mean it's work related? For a second I thought you were going to say you were back together with the Idiot. Or worse that the two of you were engaged or something equally ridiculous."
There was a biting quality to his voice that caught Ella's attention, but she didn't have time to worry about that right now. She mentally stuck a pin in it, though, for later.
"Nate," Ella said slowly. "I got a job."
"Not seeing the bad yet, El."
"Styling artists for Star Records."
Nate blinked. "What?"
"I'm going to be a stylist for Star Records."
"No, you're not."
Ella nearly jumped at the anger in his tone. She took a deep breath and continued. "Yes, I am."
"Ella, you can't work for him. You have to know why he hired you." Nate told her heatedly.
"He hired me because I'm young, promising and talented. His words."
"No, he hired you because you're a Camp Rock alum and nothing would make Camp Rock look worse than having their alum work for the owner of the rival camp," Nate told her with a shake of his head.
"Oh, so then I'm not promising and talented? Is that what you're saying?" Ella asked him defensively.
"You're kidding me, right?" Nate yelled. "Of course, I think you're promising and talented! If I didn't I wouldn't have bothered to show up at all your fashion shows while you were in school. How can you even suggest that?"
If it was possible, he looked more hurt by that than by the idea of her working for Axel Turner.
"Sometimes I just don't understand you," Nate muttered angrily. "You're talented. Very talented, and yet you don't realize just how talented you are. I know exactly what Axel will have you doing. He'll have you in a bland room, hemming pants and taking in dresses. You deserve better than that. You shouldn't settle for this. It won't be the only job offer you'll have. Don't take it just because you're afraid nothing else will come up."
"That's not what I'm doing. I told you. I'm genuinely excited for—"
"Ella," He said in a stern tone. "Are you really? Or is that just the lie you've been telling yourself?"
Her throat suddenly went dry. How did this happen? When did Nate become such an expert on her true feelings? The worst part was. He was right. She knew he was right. But admitting it would be admitting that she'd screwed up her first truly adult decision. She was hoping she'd eventually grow out of her "screw up" phase. Oh God, she was never going to grow out of it, was she? She was going to be one of those people who made a thousand bad decisions before finally stumbling across a right one. Her breathing became shallow and she felt tears stinging her eyes.
Oh great, now she was crying.
Way to be a strong, independent career woman, Ella thought sarcastically. Just weep like a little girl. That will fix everything.
"Ella," Nate said softly. "Don't cry. I didn't want you to cry."
"It's not exactly what I had in mind either, Nate. I always do this. I'm such a weepy helpless—"
"One more word out of you and I'm making you put a dollar in the jar."
Ella chuckled and sniffled. "You still have the jar?"
"I keep it around for situations just like this one. I thought we broke you of this self deprecating habit of yours? That was the point of the jar. You were supposed to get so sick of giving me all of your money that you would quit insulting yourself," Nate smirked as he took several steps closer.
"What can I say? I relapsed."
"Yeah? Well next time you relapse I really will make you put a dollar in the Insult Jar."
She sighed and looked down at her feet. "I don't know what to do, Nate."
He placed a hand under her chin and tipped her face upward until he could look her in the eyes. "Yes, you do. You just don't want to admit that you made a mistake."
"How do you do that?" Ella asked him in disbelief.
"How do I do what?"
"Read my damn mind all the time. It's sort of annoying and yet, it always makes my heart jump into my throat. I swear, you know what I'm thinking before I do."
"You do that to me too, you know."
"I do?" She asked in surprise.
He nodded. "You know what I'm in the mood to have for dinner before I can even come up with a list of possibilities."
She shook her head at him. "That's not the same."
"Yes it is. It always makes my—how did you put it?—my heart jump into my throat."
"You heart jumps into your throat because I know that you're in the mood for Italian instead of Chinese?" She asked in an unconvinced tone.
"Wow, Ella, way to make me sound crazy," Nate grinned.
"Well, that's what it sounds like you're saying to me."
"El, my reading your mind and your reading mine are just proof."
"Proof of what?"
"How well we know each other," Nate said with a smile. "I like that you know my cravings better than I do because it shows that you take the time to notice to begin with."
"I always notice," Ella told him quietly. "You make it hard not to."
Ella suddenly felt Nate's fingers graze the length of her arm. She shivered and looked up at him as his hand wrapped around hers. "I always notice you too. There could be hundreds of people in the room and you would be the one I noticed first."
"I—I would?" Ella asked as Nate's other hand came up to caress her cheek. His thumb absently rubbed back and forth against her skin.
He smiled warmly at her. "Always."
And before she really knew what he was about his lips were on hers. Soft, warm, and strong. His hand moved from her cheek to the base of her neck, and the hand that had been holding hers snaked around her waist. He pulled her closer to him than she'd ever thought possible and couldn't help but let her hands wrap around his shoulders. He wasn't much taller than her but she'd somehow wound up on her tip toes anyway. He was kissing her slowly and deliberately. The man knew exactly what he was doing to her.
They pulled apart for air and Ella found herself desperately hating her basic human need to breathe.
Ella kept her eyes closed. A part of her was afraid that if she opened them this would all turn out to be some sort of dream. That she would wake up and find that Nate hadn't just said all of those wonderful things to her. Or that he hadn't really kissed her. No, she much preferred to keep her eyes closed.
"Ella," Nate whispered. She could hear the amusement in his voice. "You can open your eyes."
"If I do, you'll still be here right?"
"I hope so, considering you're standing in my house."
She peeked one eye open to see Nate smiling softly at her and then reluctantly opened the other. "So, that really just happened?"
Nate nodded. "And it's probably going to happen a lot more if I have anything to say about it."
Ella laughed and winked at him. "Well, I'm glad to hear you liked it."