Undertow (21 page)

His eyes flashed, and he straightened. “I’d like to see my children, too, okay? You think I don’t know how much I work? I barely see Will as it is. I’d also like to build a bigger house so we actually have somewhere to put another baby. I will not have this argument with you!”

We were quiet for a moment, and I looked down, my chest burning with guilt.

“You’re right. I really should mind my own business,” I said softly. “I’m sorry I didn’t… give you the benefit of the doubt.”

“Thanks.” He breathed, turning away. “You never do.”

I nodded. “I’ll try to work on that.”

He glanced back then he grinned. “Well, don’t work on it too hard. I don’t want you losing your creative edge.”

My eyes flickered to his. “What?”

“I think hating me might be the key to your power. Don’t mess with the works.”

“I don’t hate you,” I said, my voice still quiet.

“And I don’t hate you, too. Now get some work done today, will ya?”

I rolled my eyes and pressed the elevator button.

Jan. 8, 19--

Mexican vacation! The money might not be rolling in yet, but I’m not complaining if the perks are going to be like this.

Bill told me I could bring a guest if I wanted, and I immediately thought of Suzanne. She’d practically saved my life with that Atlanta gig years ago, and I was using so much of what I’d learned from her in this job. It was the perfect way to thank her.

“Well, hello, stranger,” my friend said. “I haven’t heard from you in months. So what problem are you having now?”

I laughed. “I’ve missed you, and I know! I’m sorry I’ve been such a slacker friend. I’m calling to make it up to you. How does a weekend in Mexico sound?”

“What?”

“Working for developers has perks,” I said. “We’re getting this free vacation in Mexico at this high-end resort Bill wants to check out. Can you come up with airfare and meet us there? Everything else is covered.”

“Ugh!” she groaned, and I heard what sounded like a notebook slap closed. “When? I’m going to have to see if I can arrange things here.”

“Next weekend? Oh, c’mon. I know the guys’ll let you off to come see me.”

“I don’t know,” she sighed. “They’re still bitter about your abrupt departure.”

“Oh my god, that was four years ago! And it was the right decision for me.” I said. “I’m having more fun than I expected, and the buildings are really coming together.”

“I know. And I can probably swing it. Let me see.”

Jan. 16, 19--

We arrived in Tango Sol on a Thursday with plans to leave out Sunday morning. It was a short trip, but it was so beautiful. I brought a camera to capture the flowers and scenery, thinking I’d start painting again.

Suzanne and I had a cabin suite that was separated by a bathroom in the middle. Each room had a large queen bed that was all mahogany wood and white linens draped in mosquito netting. It definitely conveyed the feeling of an exotic locale. I was totally making mental notes on this place.

The first night we all had dinner together in the open-air restaurant. Meg looked beautiful and not at all like she’d been the last time we were together. Bryant brought Donna Albriton, and I figured those guys would be announcing their engagement soon. I didn’t know what he was waiting for. It was so obvious they were a match made in heaven. Donna was the only girl I’d ever met who was both quiet enough and patient enough to balance Bryant’s boisterous personality.

Suzanne fit right in with the group, and we enjoyed a lively dinner with lots of joking and playful insults. Marco, the owner, joined us for a few minutes during desserts and coffee, and he was extremely gracious and welcoming. When we got back to the room, Suzanne and I were ready to crash following the long flight out and the drive to the resort overlooking the Pacific Ocean.

“So how is it I’ve never met the model couple?” Suzanne asked, studying me.

“Who?” I frowned.

“Meg and Bill. Those guys are hard to believe.”

“Oh,” I snorted. “Yeah. Meg’s always been like that. Just beautiful.”

“He’s no slouch.” Suzanne’s eyebrows went up, and a look that said
yum
crossed her face.

“Back off, Atlanta.” I climbed onto my bed, ready to sleep. “He’s totally taken.”

“And how are you handling the close proximity?”

“What?” I stretched into my pillow, forehead lined.

“I’m just saying. He’s very attentive to you, and you’ve been on ice since that slime-ball professor. Four years now.”

“That’s insane. I’m not on ice. I just haven’t met anybody who interested me.”

“And why should you?” Suzanne leaned on the bedpost facing me, her arms crossed.

I sat up at that. “I’m not following you.”

“When you’ve got a hottie like that taking up all your time, why should you meet anybody else?”

“Bill’s my boss,” I frowned. “Period. Now stop trying to mess up my good deal.” I lay back on the bed again. “And I don’t know. There weren’t any guys I liked back home when I left. Not much has changed.”

“So now you just work around the clock. That’s no way to be, my friend.”

I sighed. “I know. But how am I going to meet anybody? I don’t even want to.”

“They say that’s when it happens, so keep your eyes open.”

“I’m closing them now.”

Jan. 17, 19--

Everything about this trip is perfect for my art! Today I explored the grounds with my camera and climbed high on the hillside to look out over the ocean. The water here is far more active than it is back home, and I imagine locals can surf every day—not just when a hurricane or tropical storm is bearing down on us.

The foliage is basically the same, though, bromeliads and palmettos surrounded by huge ferns that give way to towering palm trees. Hibiscus plants bloom all around, and the only alarming thing is the iguanas. I’m not a fan of the large lizards that camp out by the pools and eat the brilliant flowers. Marco assures us they’re harmless, but they’re the size of small dogs. I keep my distance.

My favorite part of the trip has been getting to see Meg so much. I thought about suggesting Bill find her a job at the office but reconsidered. Sometimes spouses didn’t work well together, and I’d decided to keep out of their marital affairs since that whole day in September.

I was happy having time with her. I remembered how close we were as little girls as I walked to her cabin. We were going on a souvenir shopping trip, and when I arrived, she was opening and closing drawers.

“What are you planning to wear today?” she asked.

“I don’t know. Shorts? A dress?”

“You should wear that red dress you got last spring.”

“OK,” I said.

“Would you braid my hair?” she asked.

I sat down and started brushing her shiny blonde hair. When we were kids, I’d gone through a macramé phase, and I was constantly experimenting with different plaits and designs on Meg’s hair. I felt like we were in middle school again.

“It’s so great here,” she sighed. “It’s like being in a tropical paradise. Don’t you think?”

“You bet. I’ve taken lots of pictures, and I think I’m going to try and work some of these ideas into one of the buildings. I’m sure Bill’s thinking the same thing.”

“He’s been meeting with Bryant and Marco every day, but Donna says they’re learning tons. I think they’re golfing this afternoon.”

“That sounds very educational.”

We laughed.

“Lexy?” Meg had that same curious tone from when we were kids. “Do you ever get lonely?”

“What?” I smiled, tugging her braid tight.

“Well, you’re here with Suzanne, and don’t get me wrong. She’s lots of fun, but it’s not like a date. And this is such a romantic setting.”

“Some people think where we live is a romantic setting.”

“Don’t avoid the question.”

“I’m sorry.” I kissed the top of her head where I was making her braid. “I’m not trying to avoid your question. I have thought about that. And Suzanne was nice enough to bring it up the first night. I don’t know,” I shrugged, “I just… I can’t make myself feel something that isn’t there.”

“I’m going to help you.” Her voice had that scheming, matchmaker tone.

“Oh, please don’t,” I begged.

“Why not? Who knows you better than me?”

“You’re just like Miss Stella. She wants to drag me to mass every Sunday and hook me up with some good Catholic boy.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

I shook my head as I tied off her braid. “It just shuts down any interest I might otherwise have. I can’t fall in love when I’m being watched under a microscope.”

She sat up and faced me then, her eyes bright with her new project. “What if there’s no pressure? You just try a blind date, and if it’s a dud, we’ll move on to the next one.”

“The next one?” I rubbed my forehead. “Oh, Meg. Let’s just let it happen, okay? They say when you’re not looking, that’s when you find someone.’

“Well, you haven’t been looking for a while.”

“And I’ve been working nonstop. Maybe Bill and I can give it a rest and start having a little more personal time.”

She looked at her hands in her lap. “I’m all for that. But you’ll have to suggest it. If I say anything, he’ll think I’m nagging.”

“Done. And so is your hair. What do you think?” I held up a mirror.

Her eyes lit up. “Perfect! As always.”

Jan. 18, 19--

I know this is supposed to be a work trip, but I’ve been working on relaxing and having fun. I only saw Bill one other time after that first night’s dinner, and believe it or not, I’ve actually found myself missing my ole work buddy.

We bumped into each other at the pool one morning when he was on his way to memorize how the kitchen operated or whatever. I was lying out on a lounge chair in my bikini. He was distracted, but we had a nice chat. Suzanne came out and misread the situation as always. Then she suggested we go into town for dinner. It was a great idea. We both dressed up in short party dresses and caught the scary bus that took tourists down the hill into the tiny village that was a haven for Tango Sol tourists.

Inside the cantina, which was lined with rainbow-colored Christmas lights, Suzanne ran to the bar and ordered two shots.

“Tequila? No way,” I said, shaking my head. “I am
not
shooting tequila.”

“Stop being a party pooper!” she cried, eyes closed. “We’re in Mexico! We have to act like Mexicans!”

I squinted at her. “What does that involve?”

“Shooting tequila!” She slammed the thick little glass down in front of me and then lined up a salt shaker and a lime. “Lick your hand.”

“I don’t think I’ve seen a Mexican shoot tequila the whole trip!” I said, licking the side of my hand right beside my thumb. “And it’s very possible you’re being a racist.”

“Then we’ll act like American tourists in Mexico! Now, salt!”

It was a mistake, but I did the shot. Then we danced to the salsa band. Some fellows at the bar were checking us out, and Suzanne started flirting. Before long they were sending us drinks, and after a few hours, they had joined us by the bar. I was feeling dizzy, so I motioned to the waiter to get us a table.

“I need to eat something,” I told Suzanne. She stayed with the guys a few minutes longer while I grabbed a menu and ordered food.

I glanced up to see her speaking briefly to them and then heading in my direction wearing a frown. “See? That’s what you do,” she scolded, sitting beside me. “You’ve got to stop it.”

“What? Eating?”

“No. That guy was totally into you, and you just walked away.”

I took a chip and stabbed it in the salsa. “I’m about to fall over. I need food.”

“You need sex.”

“Oh my god! Shut up!” I nearly choked on the chip in my mouth. “I’m not hooking up with some guy I just met at a bar on our last night here. That’s just gross… and dangerous.”

“You don’t have to hook up,” she whisper-shouted. “You can just have fun. Make out with him down on the beach. In the moonlight…”

“That’s how women go missing, you know.”

“I’ve got my eye on you.” Then she did a little zig-zag wave.

“You’re not inspiring confidence,” I laughed. “And I’m sorry I didn’t notice Pablo’s advances.”

“It’s that Bill Kyser.”

“Would you stop with that?” I pushed her arm. “You’re wrong, and it’s irritating.”

“It’s irritating because I’m right. You’ve invested all your emotional energy in someone who’s unavailable. It’s safe. He’s your cocoon.”

I rubbed my eyes, placing my elbows on the table and trying very hard not to get mad at her drunk self. “I don’t even know what that means. But if you’re suggesting I’m after my best friend’s husband, then you don’t know me at all.”

“I’m suggesting you’ve got to stop spending so much time at work and open the door to other possibilities. How else do you expect to find someone? Remember how you were in Savannah? You were open then.”