Taking the Plunge (10 page)

“Whoa, hold on.” He grabbed her and pulled her to his chest. “Hey, that isn’t what I meant. I’m just trying to figure out why you didn’t want me there.”

“And what did you gather?”

“I was hoping it wasn’t so you could meet other guys.”

She pulled away and continued to walk. “I’m not you, Derek. I wouldn’t do that.”

He sighed, breathing through the annoyance. “Don’t talk to me like that.”

“I can say whatever I want.”

He stood in front of her, pushing her back with his chest. “I said I was sorry. I meant it. I want to move on.”

“We are moving on. You’re the one who has no reason to not trust me. I’m the one who should be wary.”

“I’m sorry. I just don’t want to lose you.”

“I wouldn’t have taken you back if I was looking for someone else.”

“Then I apologize for assuming.”

“Okay.”

He grabbed her arms and kissed her, pulling her to his chest. “What would you like to do now?”

“I’m tired. We can go back now.”

“Okay,” he said as he grabbed her hand led her back up the beach to his truck. After he got her in the passenger seat, he drove back to his apartment
, close to the university. “So, are you going home or staying here?”

She wasn’t sure what she wanted. “I don’t know.”

He stood in front of her and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “It’s up to you. I’ll respect whatever decision you make and not bug you about it.”

She stared at his chest, watching the rise and fall of his body.

“And we don’t have to have sex, if that’s what’s stopping you. We can take this slow, Nancy. I know how much I’ve hurt you.”

Nancy met his gaze.
“Really?”

He rubbed his nose against hers. “I’ll do anyth
ing to keep you. We can just lie in bed and watch a movie. We don’t have to do anything.”

“Okay.”

“Does that mean you’ll stay?”

“Sure.”

He smiled. “Okay.”

They walked into the apartment then moved to his bedroom. It was clean and the sheet
s and bedding were new. She sat on top then kicked off her shoes. Fully clothed, Derek sat on the bed and turned on the television, pulling Nancy to his chest. She was nervous to have sex with him again and she wasn’t sure why. The idea of being intimate with him just didn’t feel right.

Derek ran his fingers through her hair then down her back while they lay in bed, watching the movies he rented. She enjoyed snuggling with him, not speaking or making conversation. Most of the time, they just fought anyway.

When Nancy looked at the clock, she sighed. “I should go.”

“Why? Sleep here with me. I made you a drawer to keep your things in.”

“I have an exam to study for,” she lied.

Derek didn’t question her and she knew why. He had used that lie on her countless times. He sat up and ran his fingers through his hair. “I’ll make all of this better, Nancy. I promise. Just give me time. You’ll be able to trust me again.”

She sighed. “I hope so, Derek.”

He grabbed her face and looked her in the eye. “I promise. It’ll be better soon. I just want to make you happy.”

“I just want to be happy.”

He pressed his forehead against her
s. “Baby, you will.”

10

During the next week of school, Derek did everything he could to make Nancy smile. He walked her to all of her classes, asked about her day, and never argued with her. There were comments that slipped from Nancy’s mouth that would normally elicit an aggressive reaction from him, but he didn’t take the bait. For the first time, he seemed mature.

When he took her to lunch one afternoon, the waitress serving them was beautiful. Nancy even noticed it. She had long black hair th
at complemented her light skin and she had mocha colored eyes that shined even though they were dark. She had a petite waist and a huge rack. Nancy knew Derek better than anyone. He would blatantly stare at the woman’s tits then watch her ass as she walked away. But that didn’t happen.

Derek kept his gaze glued to Nancy, not even glancing at the waitress. When he ordered, he didn’t make eye contact. When the waitress gathered the menus and walked away, Derek leaned forward.

“You look beautiful today.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t check out that girl.”

“What girl?”

She smiled at him, pleased with the response.

When they were in the cafeteria a few days later, girls Nancy didn’t recognize kept approaching Derek, flirting with him and batting their eyes. He never stood up or reached for them. Instead, he kept his arm over the back of Nancy’s chair, being affectionate with her.

“You should come to my place tonight,” one of the girls said. “We’re having a pool party.”

“My girlfriend and I have plans,” he said quickly.

“Oh? You have a girlfriend?”

Derek leaned toward Nancy and kissed her on the cheek. “Yep. She’s the only one for me.”

The two girls stared at each other before they walked away. Derek breathed a sigh of relief when they were gone.
He really was making an effort to repair the relationship and Nancy appreciated it. Perhaps this wouldn’t be a mistake. Maybe they would figure this out and fall in love like her other friends. As cheesy as it sounded, Nancy wanted to fall in love, find a passionate relationship that made everything else in life pale in comparison. She wanted a man that looked at her the way Coen looked at Sydney. She wanted a partner like Henry, someone who was always honest. It seemed like Derek could be that guy, if he kept up this act, at least.

Her friends were excited about the competition coming that weekend. Shelly and Tiffany were both accepted, and they couldn’t stop talking about it. Dr. Wallus had to tell them to be quiet multiple times during the lecture.

When Nancy came home after school, she started to paint. Even though she had exams to study for and papers to write, she preferred to sit on her balcony and splash the canvas with paint. The only drawback was Thatcher. Every time she smelled the fresh paint or felt the soft tip of the brush, she thought him. Their conversation on Saturday night still rang in her ears. He was a nice guy, easy to talk to. And he was definitely good looking. But she couldn’t think that way. She had a boyfriend, a relationship to work on. Besides, she would never see him again anyway. Their paths had no reason to cross.

When her Dad came home on Friday night, he walked into the kitchen area and dropped his tie on the table. He did this every afternoon, and Nancy always took them to the dry cleaner at the end of the week. Her father never thanked her for it, but she suspected it was because he had no idea that she did it. He was so ignorant to everything around him tha
t he didn’t even wonder how the ties became cleaned and returned to his drawer. Nancy tried not to let it bother her but it got under her skin.

“Dad, I have something to tell you.”

He opened the refrigerator and grabbed a bottle of beer, twisting the cap off with his hand. “What’s up, kiddo?”

“I entered the gallery competition at J and K showcase and they accepted my painting as an entry.”

“That’s great,” he said as he reached for his phone in his pocket. It was lit up like he had a text message. He read it then responded. Nancy knew exactly who it was. It was one of his bimbos with breasts implants.

“Dad?”

“Huh?” he said without looking up from his phone.

“It’s Saturday night at seven. You’ll be there, right? I really want you to come.”

He walked by her then patted her on the shoulder. “Don’t worry. I’ll be there.”

“Really?” she said, hearing her own happiness escape her voice.

He grabbed his suitcase then walked back to his office, shutting the door behind him. Nancy was excited to know that her father would be attending. Perhaps if he knew she was talented, they could paint together like they used to, capture the relationship they lost.

Nancy went shopping with Derek, trying to find an outfit to wear for the following day.

“What about this?” Derek asked, holing up a one piece lingerie suit.

“Really?” she said sarcastically.

He shrugged. “You wanna win, right?”

“Based on talent, not hotness.”

“Well, you would blow everyone out of the water, baby.”

She smiled then looked through the
dresses. She found a backless dress that showed the lines of her shoulder blades. The cut extended all the way to her lower back. A built in bra was in the front, keeping the goodies hidden.

“That looks nice,” Derek said.

I think I’ll try it on.”

“And don’t’ forget to show me.”

“Okay.” She walked into the fitting room and got it on. Like it was meant for her, the dress fit the contours and lines of her body. It was perfect. When she walked out, Derek winked at her.

“That’s the one.”

She turned around. “You didn’t even see the back.”

His mouth dropped. “You should wear that when we get home.”

She rolled her eyes. “It’ll have to wait until tomorrow.”

“Damn.”

She walked back inside and change out of it. When she walked up to the register, Derek was beside her. “What are you doing?” she asked, seeing him reach for his wallet.

“I wanted to buy it for you.”

“I can buy my own clothes.”

“I know you can. But I wanted to do something nice for you.”

“Derek, you don’t need to shower me with gifts.”

“I’m not trying to. I really just want to make you happy for your big day tomorrow. Nothing can go wrong. It has to be perfect.”

She smiled at him then patted his arm. “I appreciate it, but no thank you.”

He stared her down, reaching for the dress.

“It’s a hundred and twenty dollars. It’s not cheap.”

“Hand it over,” he said as he pulled her closer, pressing his mouth against her ear. “I’m your boyfriend and I take care of you. Now do as I ask.”

She stared at him, unable to believe the words he just said.

He took the dress from her hands and paid for it.

Nancy was speechless. It had only been a week since the incident that devastated her, but it seemed like Derek really was becoming a new man, the one she had wanted from the beginning. She wanted to drop her guard and bring down her walls but she still couldn’t do it. Something was holding her back.

11

After Nancy dressed herself, doing her hair and applying her makeup, she looked at herself in the mirror. The dress fit her body perfectly and the heels made her look taller, her ass more prominent. She didn’t recognize herself. Normally, she wore jeans and a top, curling her hair at the ends or applying a small amount of makeup. She didn’t have the time to prim herself, and she didn’t care how she looked. But now she eyed herself with surprise.

She drove to the gallery with a heavy heart. What would people ask her? What would she say? She was so nervous that her hands kept slipping on the wheel. What if people hated her work, questioned why her piece was
even chosen for the competition? She wanted to make her dad proud by winning first place. Perhaps if she could do that, he’d realize what an ass he had been for the last five years.

When she reached the gallery, she parked her car in the parking lot then approached the front of the house. She was thirty minutes early so she could set up her area. Other cars were on the sidewalk, other artists, she assumed.

After she walked inside, the receptionist greeted her. “Hello, Ms. Erikson.”

“You can call me Nancy.”

“Of course,” she said. “I’m Diane, by the way.”

“Hello, Diane.”

“Nervous?” she asked with a smile.

“What gave me away?”

“Well, sweat is dripping on the floor.”

Nancy wiped her hands on the front of her dress.

“I’m just kidding. Let me show you the showcase room.”

Nancy was led to a large room that was dimly lit. Other contestants had their paintings on easels. They stood by their work, dressed in suits and dresses. Everyone seemed as nervous as she was. When she walked by the paintings, she felt her heart fall. They were so beautiful, way better than anything she could ever create.

“Here you are,” Diane said. “Here’s a small table of water and snacks just in case you need them.”

“What do I do?”

“What do you mean?”

“When people talk to me what do I say?”

“Just be yourself,” she said as she squeezed her shoulders. “Believe me, everyone else is just as nervous as you are. Mr. Adams will come by and question you before he makes his final decision.”

“I’m going to talk to him?” she asked fearfully.

“Of course. How else will he be able to select a winner?”

She rubbed her palms together, feeling the sweat stick.

Diane gave her a sweet smile. “You’ll be alright.”

She nodded. “Okay.”

Nancy stood by her easel and looked at her painting, feeling the doubt circulate through her. It was one of her first creations but now she felt foolish for thinking it was ever worth anything. Mr. Adams would probably laugh at her.

At seven, guests started filling in, looking at all the paintings in the room. There were twenty contestants along the walls. Couples moved by and examined the paintings, asking the artist questions about the work. No one approached Nancy. She waited as people moved around.

Couples came to her piece and stared at the painting for a long time. No one asked her any questions, which she made her feel relieved. But the longer people examined her painting, the worse she felt. Why were they staring at it for so long?

“It’s beautiful.”

“Huh?’ She turned to see Thatcher standing in front of her painting, wearing slacks, a collared shirt, and black buttoned vest. His hair was styled, wavy at the ends. His blue eyes looked excited as he stared at her picture. She looked at him, feeling slightly calmer now that she saw a friendly face. He looked handsome in his outfit and she immediately noticed the broadness of his shoulders and tightness of his stomach. His thighs were muscled and toned and his arms were the size of Nancy’s thighs. Her obvious attraction to him was evident and she couldn’t hide it.

“Nancy?”

“Sorry, what were you saying?”

He smiled at her, showing her his perfect teeth. “Nervous?”

She sighed. “A little.”

He put his hands in pockets as he stared at her. His eyes drifted across her body, seeing the curve of her breasts and expansion of her hips. The golden bracelet around her wrist felt cold against her skin. His eyes lingered on that before he looked back at her face. “You look lovely.”

She blushed and looked down. “Thank you,” she whispered.

Gently, he placed his hand under chin and lifted her face. “Be confident, Nancy. You own this room.”

His touch didn’t make her upset like she assumed it would. “I own it?”

“You’re the m
ost talented artist here. Yes, you own the night. And you own that dress,” he said with a smile.

She blushed again.

He placed his hand on her lower back, his warm hand touching her bare skin, and pulled her toward him. “Now, tell me about this painting.”

“What do you mean?”

“Artists usually discuss the inspiration for their pieces, their personal lives, what they were going through when it was created. And if it has any meaning.”

“Oh.” She tried to organize her thoughts.

He looked at the painting then reached out, almost touching it with his fingers. “The curve of the brush here highlights the bay of the ocean. The waves look calm, small. It’s dawn.” His hand moved farther to the right. “The splash of color here, the yellow and the pink, represent the flowers of our island. The faint outline of shadow here makes it clear.” He moved to the center. “Here’s everything combined together. The waves, the wind, the volcanoes, the sea life, the culture, the essence of the island.” He stepped back and returned his hand to her lower back. “It’s everything you see every day. Probably from your window.”

She stared at her him, dumbstruck. “How did you know that?”

He pulled her closer to his side. “I’m somewhat knowledgeable about these things.”

“My father didn’t even know what it was.”

“Well, don’t listen to him. If isn’t a portrait of a Benjamin, he can’t see it. He doesn’t see the natural beauty of the world like you do.”

She looked at him, feeling better knowing that he understood what she was trying to convey.

“I can see the picture and I can feel the emotion, but I don’t see the meaning. Would you do me the honor of telling me?” He pulled his arm away and turned to her, looking her straight in the eyes. Even though she was wearing thick heels, he still towered over her. His eyes looked calm, patiently waiting for her to speak.

“My dad and I used to explore the island together. We would hike the volcano, snorkel in the ocean, collect flowers and bring them home. We were inseparable. He was my best friend. We lived in a small house that was barely stable. Whenever it was windy we could hear the air howl around us. His car used to break down all the
time, and he would have to walk to work. I would have to take the bus to school. But I’ve never been happier than I was when we were poor. Now that he’s rich, I don’t matter to him.” She blinked back the tears, feeling her vulnerability shine through. “All he cares about is money. That’s it. Nothing else matters. Not even me.” She took a deep breath and tried to steady her breathing. “I’ve never told anyone that before.”

He placed his hands around her waist, his fingers touching the bare skin of her back, and he stepped closer to her, looking her in the eye. “That’s art, Nancy. It’s revealing your most sacred emotions for the whole world to see. Submitting your painting tonight was very brave.”

She sniffed then blinked her eyes, keeping the emotion away.

“It’s good to get it out, Nancy. There’s nothing wrong with being emotional. I’ve cried while making every single one of my paintings.”

“You have?”

He nodded. “You should say the same thing to your father when he arrives.”

“You think I should?”

“What could be a better time?”

“You’re right.” She wrapped her arm around his waist and stepped into him, letting her head rest against his chest. He didn’t flinch when she moved toward him. His hand ran down her back gently, his fingers gliding over her smooth skin.

She pulled away and moved toward her painting, feeling frightened of their profound intimacy. “So, why did you come tonight?”

“A painting needs to be selected.”

She smiled. “You think
you can sway Mr. Adam’s opinion?”

He stared at her for a long time, amusement in his eyes. “I m
ight be able to persuade him.”

“Well, make sure you tell him to pick me.”

“Why do you want to win?”

“Is that a serious question?”

He nodded.

“If I can get my painting in here, people might actually take me seriously. If Mr. Adams thought I was good, then I really must be. I could start my own gallery and sell my own paintings. I wouldn’t have to work at the aquarium.”

“So you would pursue your dream, not pick the most economically safe major?” he said with a smile.

“I would definitely take a leap of faith.”

“And what would you do with the money? Artists make good money. What would you do with it?”

She shrugged. “I never really thought about it. I would probably buy a small house and use what I needed for bills and groceries, my future children’s tuitions, and give the rest to charity. Or invest it in after school programs for the arts.”

He nodded. “That sounds admirable.”

“
I definitely wouldn’t be a green-eyed monster like my father.”

“It’s definitely out of your character.”

She looked at him, seeing the slight smirk on his lips, then looked away. “Well, it was nice seeing you, Thatcher.”

“Is that your polite way of getting rid of me?”

“I’m sure you have somewhere to be.”

“Actua
lly, I do. But I’ll be back.” His hand returned to the small of her back and he leaned toward her ear. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” He stepped away without looking back, pretending that he hadn’t just given her the sweetest compliment she ever heard.

She stood there, rooted to the spot. No one had ever knocked the wind out of her like that, swept her off her feet. Just a simple touch on her back and an intimate whisper in her ear left her feeling faint and light-headed. She couldn’t believe that just happened. She opened her heart to him, revealing a secret she thought she would never confess, and somehow she felt better, calmer. A weight had been lifted from her chest.

When she turned to look at him, he was admiring another painting, his arms crossed over his chest and his weight shifted to one leg.

“Hey, baby.”

Nancy turned and saw Derek wrap his arms around her, kissing her gently.

“You look—
yowza,” he said as he looked down at her legs. “I hope Mr. Adams is straight.”

She gave him a weak smile, still floored by Thatcher.

He caught the look. “Don’t be nervous. You’re doing great.”

“Damn, you look hot,” Henry said with smile. He made an hour glass shape with his hands.

Sydney nudged her. “If I were gay, I’d buy you a drink.”

Coen nodded his head in approval. “I like where this is going.”

She glared at him while smiling at the same time.

“Thanks for coming,” Nancy
said when she found her voice.

“We wouldn’t miss it for anything,” Derek said. He turned and looked at her painting. They all stared at it, none of them saying anything.

“It’s nice,” Derek said with a nod.

She could tell by the sound of his voice that he was lying. He couldn’t think of something better to say.

“Wow,” Henry said. “I didn’t know you could paint like that.”

“Yeah,” she said.

“So, is the competition almost over?” Sydney asked.

Nancy
looked at the clock. “It should be.”

“Did the artist come and talk to you?” Sydney asked.

“No,” Nancy said. “And I haven’t seen him.”

“Do you know what he looks like?” Henry asked.

“Actually, no. I just know he’s a guy. He’s probably old. Artists always seem to be old.”

Derek placed his hand on her back. “Maybe he already decided to pick you so he didn’t see the point in coming over.”

She smiled at his encouragement.

“Is your dad here?” Henry asked as he looked around.

Her heart fell. “No.” It was already eight. He should have been here an hour ago.

“Maybe he’s running late,” Sydney said quickly. “I doubt he would want to miss this.”

Nancy had a pain in her stomach. She wondered if he forgot. She just told him the night before. Surely his memory wasn’t that bad.

Derek caught the sadness in her eyes. “Don’t worry about it, baby. He’ll be here. And if he doesn’t show, you got us, your real family.”

“I know.”

He kissed her gently then pulled away. “I can’t believe I’m dating the hottest girl in this room.”