Wet: Part 1 (15 page)

Chapter 14

R
hees sat in the office at Paul’s computer. She had her little brown bag of peanut butter, thinking about how she wanted to eat it first. She decided to stop at a little grocery store on the way home and buy some crackers and jam. She couldn’t wait.

A couple of girls from another dive shop walked into the office. “Is Paul around? We came by to wish him a happy birthday.” They held up a couple of beers.

Claire rolled her eyes. “There’s a box on the floor over there.” She flicked her head in the direction of the tunnel.

The girls looked in the box and seemed a little embarrassed by how unoriginal their gift turned out to be. They set their beer in the box with all the other gifts. “We’ll leave these here. Is he around? We’d like to tell him we came by.”

“I saw him on the deck a few minutes ago,” Rhees said. The girls looked her over thoroughly and walked out to go find him, giggling and turning back to look at Rhees again before they disappeared from view.

“I didn’t know it was Paul’s birthday.” Rhees wondered how everyone knew but her.

“Yeah, the gifts and girls have been
pouring
in all day.” Claire laughed as she flicked her head toward the box full of gifts, filled mostly with alcoholic beverages.

Rhees stood and walked over to the box. It overflowed with at least three dozen bottles of beer, four bottles of wine, a pile of handmade birthday cards, a few trinkets, and a pair of women’s panties with a ribbon attached.

“Ew! I hate to think too much about those! Think they’re used? Maybe some sort of souvenir for, um . . . you know . . . the good time he gave her or something?”

“Believe me, you’re
thinking about it more than I bleeding want to,” Claire said dryly.

Suddenly, Paul walked by the office door with the two girls at his side. The girls giggled and Paul had his hands all over the both of them. Rhees watched out the window as they made their way to Paul’s apartment on the other side of the street.

“Why do they do that?” Rhees asked, her voice quiet.

“What? Leave him panties for his birthday?”

“Yeah . . . and go so willingly to . . . you know, knowing that it means nothing to him, at all.”

“Oh come now.” Claire looked up from her computer and stood next to Rhees to see what she was watching. She scowled. “Being a virgin doesn’t make you blind. You can’t make me believe you haven’t noticed what a fine-looking man he is. I mean, ‘I hate his bloody guts’ too, as you used to put it, but I would be lying if I said I thought he was ugly.”

“Yes. I’ve noticed,” Rhees said. “He is a
very
attractive man . . . but the thought of letting him, you know . . . do that to me, knowing he most likely just had his
thing
inside someone else—like the Bobbsey Twins there, just minutes before.” She shuddered. “That just makes me sick to my stomach.”

“That’s because
your
brains are in your head.” Claire put her arm around Rhees. “Paul’s, on the other hand, are in his stiffy . . . and the Bobbsey Twin tarts . . .” Claire laughed. “I doubt they have a whole brain between the two of them.” They both giggled as they watched Paul unlock his door, but when the two girls anxiously pushed Paul inside, Rhees had to look away.

“It makes me ill too . . . however, I do wish he could give Dobbs just a bit of his stamina,” Claire said.

“What does that mean?”

“Well, I personally happened to see Paul out on Frock, coming out of the bathroom, and whisking a girl off to his apartment all in one day, all before the shop shut down for the day.” Her eyes closed and her expression seemed to be one of envy. Rhees almost felt sick to think Claire might want him as much as the rest of the girls on the island. Claire opened her eyes again and came back from wherever she’d gone in her fantasies.

“If you believe all the gossip, it sounds like he’s banging just about every day, and then some.” She sighed. “I’ve been married a while. I consider myself lucky if Dobbs is up for a shagging more than once a week.”

“So which is normal?”

It relieved Rhees to see where Claire ended up with her point.

“Well, Paul is not normal. He’s only the way he is because of how he looks. Is it really his fault that an endless supply of women are always lined up, ready to throw themselves at him,
sending him panties
?” Claire looked at the box of birthday gifts again and shrugged. “Thing is, I don’t believe he likes himself when it’s all said and done.”

“You don’t really hate him as much as you say you do.”

Claire laughed. “Yes, I do! I bloody do. But I feel sorry for him.” She sat down and went back to work.

Rhees looked at the box of birthday gifts again and felt like she should give him a present too, but she didn’t know what. It looked like he had more than enough alcohol, and she wasn’t going to give him a pair of her panties. She looked at her brown paper bag and let out a sigh.

She noticed the pencil cup and grabbed a couple of colored markers. “I’m going to go out for a while. Is it okay if I borrow these markers?”

“Sure,” Claire said and Rhees was out the door.

oOo

Paul walked back into the office an hour later. He looked at the box Claire had put out to collect all the gifts people brought him and he frowned.

He sat at his computer and waited for it to fire up, when he noticed a brown paper bag next to his screen. It had “Happy Birthday Paul” written on the front. Colorful hand-drawn balloons and confetti decorated the bag and a ribbon bow held it closed. He looked but didn’t see a card and he wondered who it was from. He untied the ribbon and peeked inside.

He frowned again, and it took a few minutes to decide what to do. “Claire, give me ten minutes, and then send Rhees over to my place to . . . um.” He looked around the office and grabbed the first folder he saw. “Tell her you need this folder from my kitchen counter.”

“No!” Claire was aghast. “I’m not doing that! It’d be like sending a lamb into the wolf’s den.”

Paul held his tongue for a second. “I think you’re mixing up two different sayings. You send a lamb to slaughter, or someone is a wolf in sheep’s clothing.”

“They both apply,” she said tersely.

He narrowed his eyes, seeing her point, and it made him laugh in a cocky, flippant way. “It isn’t like that. I swear.” Paul could see she wasn’t buying it. “I
swear
!” he repeated with more emphasis.

“Yeah, you swear all the time. Promise me! I know you keep your promises. Promise me she’ll come back out in the same condition she went in.”

He didn’t respond right away but finally gave in. “I promise.”

“You promise what?”

“Claire!” He sounded exasperated. “I promise not to deflower her. Is that specific enough for you?” He didn’t like her implication, even if he wasn’t completely sure she wasn’t right. He couldn’t help himself from adding, “Not today, anyway.”

He snatched the bag and the folder and ran out the door before she could hit him with the clipboard she’d just swung at him. “Ten minutes.”

“Paul, so help me. If you
ever
hurt her, I will personally castrate you,” she yelled after him.

oOo

Rhees unlocked the padlock on Paul’s door with the key Claire had given her and walked inside. She’d never been in his apartment.

“Wow! His place is smaller than mine,” she muttered to herself.

Straight ahead from the door, the living room—with an almost overwhelmingly large, L-shaped leather couch—wrapped around to the right, and an oval coffee table stood in front of it. A television, too large for the room, sat in the corner to the right of the door and sporting equipment adorned about every nook and cranny of Paul’s apartment, crowded but tastefully placed.

“Looks like him.”

To the left, on the other side of the room, next to the couch, a set of stairs, looking more like a ladder, led up to an open loft with a wooden railing. She could see the end of a bed through the railing, the only bed in the apartment. She felt her face grow warm, trying not to think about what must have happened in that bed just a short time ago with the Bobbsey Twins.

“Ew!” She couldn’t think about it . . . at all. She was supposed to be trying to be his friend, but the day had pushed her limits more than they’d been pushed in a while, reminding her not to get too comfortable with him. She wished she’d had it in her to tell Claire she couldn’t enter Paul’s apartment so soon after . . . but she would help Claire with anything. 

Behind the ladder stairs, she saw a small room with the door slightly ajar—the bathroom. To the left, a breakfast bar stretched from left to right with two high stools. The tiniest kitchen she’d ever seen lay behind the bar. It reminded her of the kitchen in a camper trailer her parents had owned when she was younger. In fact, the whole apartment felt like a camper trailer, as though someone had taken a tastefully decorated, full-sized apartment and miniaturized it. Even the windows were smaller than necessary, making the rooms feel a little gloomy. Rhees thought the unfinished wooden walls could use a coat of light-colored paint to brighten them up.

Rhees looked around for the folder Claire had sent her to retrieve. She saw it on the end of the breakfast bar, but that wasn’t all she noticed. The brown paper bag she’d decorated also sat on the bar, the ribbon untied. A plate with crackers and a jar of mango jam sat next to the jar of peanut butter she’d sacrificed for Paul’s birthday.

Paul walked in before she had a chance to process too much.

“Hey,” he said. “Did you find the folder?”

She swung around, surprised to see him there. 

“I was just about to enjoy my favorite birthday present. Someone gave me peanut butter. Would you like to join me?”

“No one told me it was your birthday.” She wasn’t really lying. If it hadn’t been for the Bobbsey Twins, she might never have found out. It surprised her that Regina hadn’t said anything.

“Oh really?” He acted surprised but smiled like he had a secret. “Well?” He gestured toward the food he had set out on the counter.

“Um, that’s
your
birthday present. You enjoy it. I’d better get this folder back to Claire.”

His brow puckered. “You’re not seriously going to make me eat something that special all alone, on my
birthday
.”

She smirked. She knew he hadn’t been
too alone . . . or alone for very long. “You know, I wanted the gift to be anonymous,” she said, finally putting the pieces together. She bowed her head, knowing she’d been caught.

“I can’t believe you would give me the only jar of peanut butter south of Texas. I’ve heard you mention how much you’ve missed it.” He tried not to look too confused.

She shrugged. “It’s your birthday, and it looked like you already had plenty of beer, wine, and
panties
.”

“Hmm . . . yep. That’s about everything on my birthday list, except peanut butter . . . and Princess Danarya to share it with.” He flashed a wicked grin. She scowled. “I can’t accept your gracious gift unless you’ll share it with me.
Please
?”

It annoyed her he’d called her Princess Danarya again, but she couldn’t say no anymore. She’d practically been salivating for the peanut butter since Dobbs handed it to her. She sat on one of the stools. Paul pulled two Coke Lights out of the fridge, sat on the other stool, and they started making small peanut butter and jelly sandwiches with the crackers.

She took her first bite and swooned with a moan, expressing her pleasure. It embarrassed her when she realized that he’d watched her do it, very intently. He took his first bite and reacted the same way, imitating her with a smile. They talked and laughed together while they ate.

“I’m guessing Claire doesn’t really need this folder,” she said.

“No—well, she
will
need it, eventually, just not right now—possibly not for days.” He chuckled but then he turned serious. “Thank you, Rhees. This is the best birthday present I’ve had in . . . so many years.” He couldn’t figure out why she’d done it. She’d sacrificed her coveted peanut butter for him, even after everything he’d put her through.
“It means a
lawt
.”

“Hey! No biggie.” She rolled her eyes. “You saved my life. I gave you peanut butter. Now we’re even.”

Chapter 15

A
few days later, Rhees went through Paul’s emails and found one she thought she should tell him about immediately.

“Paul, you have an email in the business account. I’m sorry, but I didn’t realize it was personal until I opened it. Some guy named Taylor. He says he’ll be here tomorrow and he expects the usual royal treatment. I hope you know what that means because I don’t.”

“Oh, no! Seriously?” He pulled his phone from his pocket and looked at Rhees for a second. “Damn it!” he said under his breath. He dialed and ran out of the office. After a fifteen-minute international conversation, he stepped back into the office, still on his phone. Rhees could faintly hear a man’s voice on the other end between Paul’s pauses.

“Hey, Taye. Bring some new sheets . . . yes, again . . . yeah, already . . . I know. You know the kind I like . . . As many as you can bring . . . All right. See you soon.”

He hung up and stared ominously at Rhees for too long. “Is there any way I could convince you to stay locked in your room for the next ten days?”

Rhees laughed and waited for the punch line, but it never came. Paul seemed completely serious. The amusement dropped from her expression. “What’s wrong?”

He smiled to try and assure her he was just joking, but she could tell he didn’t think it too funny.

“Nothing. My childhood friend is coming. He likes to spring these things on me.”

“Okay,” she said, her voice still apprehensive. “So why does that make you so jumpy?”

Paul stared at her for an uncomfortably long time. “He’s better looking than I am.”

That was all he said before he walked out of the office, leaving Rhees alone. She wanted Claire to get back from lunch so she could ask her about what had just happened.

oOo

Paul fidgeted. He paced around the shop, started projects, changed his mind, moving from one to another, acting as though he didn’t know what to do with himself. It stood to reason he would be excited. His friend was scheduled to be on the three o’clock plane. Instead, he seemed nervous and irritable.

“Are you sure you won’t stay in your apartment until Taylor leaves the island?” He turned to Rhees.

“Paul!” She glared at him. “Seriously?”

“Just . . . don’t think that because he’s my friend, you have to be friendly, okay?”

She shook her head. “I’ve made it twenty-four years. He would have to be pretty darn good-looking to change my mind in just ten days . . . unless—” She caught Paul’s attention. “Do you think he’d go for a short engagement?” She giggled as she walked off.

oOo

Rhees sat on the edge of the deck, reading the final chapters of her course, almost four o’clock. A commotion made her look up from her studies.

Paul stood next to a man who had to be Taylor. She glanced over as inconspicuously as possible, trying to figure out why Paul thought Taylor outdid him in the looks department. She didn’t see it. Taylor wasn’t ugly by any means, but she thought Paul was still the most handsome man she’d ever seen in real life.

Paul made introductions on the other side of the deck, but she still tried to concentrate on finishing her assignment—not very successfully. Taylor had been to the island several times, so many of the students already knew him. They made their way around the shop, making sure everyone had a chance to meet Taylor or say hello. Paul turned and started back toward the office.

“Let’s go grab a beer or two and catch up,” he said.

“Not so fast,” Taylor said. “You missed one. She’s new.” He flashed a salacious grin and tipped his head toward Rhees.

Paul winced. “Yeah, that’s the uptight pain in the ass I told you about.  You’ll want to steer clear of her.”

“You know me, always
up
for a challenge.” Taylor flashed a cheesy grin, giving away his dirty intentions, and headed Rhees’ direction. Paul’s shoulders dropped, his head fell back and he looked up to heaven for divine intervention.

“Hi, I’m Taylor. You’re Dan-a-rhee-a, right?” Rhees wasn’t amused. She tilted her head around with a slow deliberate blink. Her cold I’m-on-to-you glare slipped right past Taylor and went straight to Paul. He smirked, guilty as charged.

“I’m afraid I’m at a disadvantage. Paul-io has obviously mentioned me, but he’s told me absolutely nothing about you,” she said, hoping Paul would catch the similarity to polio, the only other infirmity she could think of to play on Paul’s name.

“I see what you mean.” Taylor put his hand over his mouth as if trying to tell Paul something without her hearing, but he didn’t attempt to lower his voice.

Paul grabbed Taylor’s arm and pulled him away. “Beer!”

Taylor didn’t protest. Once Taylor had turned his back, Paul twisted back and gave Rhees a wink before flashing an award-winning smile. They walked around the corner and out of view.

oOo

Paul’s attempt to keep Taylor away from Rhees mostly entailed acting aloof and detached. He’d spent more time with her when they hated each other, and the loneliness unexpectedly wore on her mood. Taylor’s first few days on the island consisted of the two of them tearing up the town. Every day, Rhees had to listen to account after account about where and what the boys were doing . . . and whom they were doing
it
with. Not only did she feel lonely, she felt a little disappointed.

It was bad enough Paul avoided any contact with her, but the others at the shop seemed to read the situation as an excuse to be even more standoffish. There were moments when she wondered if she should have agreed to stay in her room after all.

Paul didn’t miss the deterioration in her mood, but he felt helpless to do anything about it. He knew the second he tried, Taylor would zero in on her, and that was the last thing he wanted.

Since high school, Taylor had made it a game of trying to steal every girl he thought Paul was interested in, treating it like winning some kind of prize. Taylor seemed more invested in the game so Paul stopped fighting it, stepping aside and settling for another. There were always others to choose from. Taylor wasn’t really invested in any of them, but he loved letting Paul know he could do it.

Paul wasn’t going to step aside and let Taylor have Rhees. No way in hell. He convinced himself he’d invested too much time already.

oOo

A few days later, Paul finally found a minute to be alone with Rhees. He took her by the arm and pulled her into the compressor room, using the act of stealth as an excuse to get a little closer to her than he normally would have dared. He stood next to her, within inches. He could smell the fact that she used mango-scented shampoo, and he breathed it in deeply. She seemed uneasy with the proximity and he pulled back a little, but it bothered him how, even after their truce, and all the fun they seemed to have when they were together, she still acted like she hated being too close to him.

“Are you going to the movie tonight?” he asked. “Everyone seems pretty excited about it.”

“I didn’t hear about it.”

Of course no one at the shop would tell her about a movie they all planned to see. Dobbs’ comment about her being shunned by the others came to mind. He had to work to keep from getting angry, but the idea made him want to hurt someone.

“There’s finally a new movie at the theater. People have been talking about it. It’s supposed to be good. Are you going?”

“Are you?”

“I’ll go if you go.”

“What about Taylor?”

Paul shrugged and tried to make light of it. He really wasn’t sure how it would work. He just wanted to spend some time with her—it’d been too long. “Taye’s a big boy. If he doesn’t want to come, he’ll find something else to do.” Paul hoped he would.

She smiled. “Okay. See you there?”

Paul lingered but started acting anxious. “Rhees, would you mind . . .” He hesitated.

“No. I am not going to lock myself in my apartment.”

“It couldn’t hurt to ask.” He chuckled, deciding to let her think that is what he was about to say. He thought better of his real question and chickened out. Standing so close made him yearn to touch her. He’d almost asked permission to kiss her, a foreign concept for him, but she still believed he just wanted to be friends, and he didn’t want to scare her away . . . yet.

“Again and again?” She giggled, assuming she’d finished his sentence for him. “I’m going to get my fins if you ask one more time. Then we’ll see if you can still tell me it doesn’t
hurt
to ask.”

She air swatted at him, pretending to have fins in her hands. He jumped away from her and laughed. He remembered the large bruise on his arm and how long it took to heal after their morning on Duna Caye.

“I’ll see you tonight,” he said as he watched her walk back into the office. He sighed, licking and twitching his lips a few times, wondering why she had him acting like a nervous teenager, something he had never been.