Shy Girl

by Katie Cross

  “If there’s an elephant for you,” I said, “we can clear the air, but I'm fine over here. You made your position clear, and I've respected it.”

  Her nostrils flared, then relaxed. “That’s . . . fair.”

  I blinked. She shrugged.

  “That’s fair,” she repeated. “I can’t control the way you feel.”

  Startled, I just waited for what would come next because fairness hadn't been a factor before. With Victoria, there was always a next.

  “I just . . .”

  She trailed off, then leaned forward and picked her words back up. Her shoulder shifted, allowing a greater view to her bikini top, which I ignored.

  “I suppose I want closure, that’s all. What we had was special. Yes, it was fast but . . .” Her expression softened. “It was also magical. Do you deny that?”

  “What was magical?”

  She straightened, her eyes bright. “The chemistry between you and me. We’re cut from the same cloth, Jayson. We excel in whatever we do. We care about others. We aren’t afraid to go against culture. I sensed that in you right away.” Her hand rose to press against her heart. “Here. Even you said that. When we met, it was like we were meant to be.”

  Warning bells clanged in my head. Victoria had done this before—assigned words that had definitely never crossed my lips. Put too much meaning to normal things, making it impossible for me to escape.

  Also, she had said we were never meant to be.

  “I said what?”

  “That you felt something magical for me.”

  I scoffed. “Sorry, I don’t use that word.”

  She shrugged. “Special, then. The sentiment is the same.”

  “Is it?”

  Her expression hardened. “You’re going to deny it?”

  “I felt you were attractive and interesting, and I was all in from the beginning. You are the one that backed away.” I shrugged. “You chose, Vic.”

  She huffed and folded her long arms across her chest. “That is a lie. You were mad about me, Jayson, and I was mad about you. I don’t need to make that up.”

  “It's true.”

  Her head jerked up to mine.

  “But you also let me go,” I continued. “And now it's too late.”

  She frowned. Her lips pressed back together for a moment before she shook her head. The rising tension in her cooled a bit.

  “Well,” she murmured, “maybe I realized my mistake.”

  “If that's the case, I'm sad for you. I have Dagny now and she's the real deal.”

  The words came out of my mouth before I knew they existed. Hearing them startled me for only a second, because they were right. Dagny was the real deal. Dagny was in my court now. In fact, she'd edged Victoria so far out I couldn't even see Victoria anymore. Looking at her pouty lips now, I wondered how I ever did see anything in her.

  This woman would never stand before my abuela.

  “What are you doing with that woman, Jayson? It can’t be real.” She waved an airy hand toward the yoga class. “D-d-dagny.”

  At first, I was too incredulous to speak, but the words came out with astonishment after several long moments.

  “Did you just make fun of her speech impediment?”

  Heat welled up in my chest, but I forced it back. Victoria hesitated, and the flicker of uncertainty told me she realized her mistake with such an immature tactic. But did I see a true apology? No. Not a hint of actual regret.

  “I’m sorry.” She turned away, her voice a stone. “That was wrong and petty and low, you’re right. Dagny seemed . . . fine. I’m just . . . I’m jealous of her. She has what I’ve wanted for months now.” She glanced up. “I’ve missed you, Jayson.”

  When she said nothing further, I leaned back in the chair. It had been Vikram’s advice not to ever be in a room alone with Victoria—based on all his experience with women—and now I understood why. She was trying every tactic available, and I’d almost fallen for it. Because for a moment, I almost reached out to touch her shoulder and comfort her. Some valiant part of my inner idiot couldn’t help himself. Victoria looked small and frustrated and I never wanted that for her.

  But I kept my hands to myself because I didn't want Victoria anymore.

  “I’m sorry that you feel this way, Victoria, but there's no going back. There’s nothing that will happen between us, and I hope you can accept that and move on. You deserve someone that will make you happy.”

  For a full fifteen seconds, she didn’t say a word. Her jaw tightened several times, as if she were about to speak, but she stopped herself. Finally, her throat bobbed a little as she swallowed, then nodded.

  “Fine.”

  She stood up and headed for the door. I stood, but remained outside by the railing. Below, the yoga session started to break apart. Dagny spoke with Alison, Helene’s mother. Relief that Victoria was leaving, and with so little struggle, left me a little weak. Until this confrontation showed its ending, I hadn’t realized how stressed out I’d become.

  Victoria stopped before she left. She gazed over her shoulder.

  “I’m sorry, too.”

  With that, she disappeared.

  Fifteen minutes later, a knock came on my door. Vikram let himself into the bungalow, then dropped onto my couch with both arms in the air in a sign of victory. He fist pumped one of them.

  “I still got it!”

  He held up his phone, which displayed a new phone number across the top in bright green letters. I threw a pillow at him, then a beer. He deflected the first and caught the second with an arrogant smirk.

  “Another number?” I asked.

  “You know it. This lady, however, is just coming off a break up and needs a little reminder that men aren’t dirtbags.”

  “You are.”

  He rolled his eyes. “I’m not a dirtbag, I’m just not a committer. There’s a huge difference. You can still be good to women and not marry them. Grady’s on his way over, by the way. Something about best man responsibilities or that garbage.” Vik cracked the top off of the water bottle. “Nothing us lowly normals would know about.”

  Bastian entered through the back door before I could make a sarcastic quip back. Before I could toss him a beer, he grabbed his computer, opened it up, and slid back to sit on the counter. “Dagny’s going on a walk,” he said. “I have no idea where Victoria is. The grill is packed or else I’d recommend we go there.”

  I waved that off. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll order lunch. Hey, I talked to Victoria while you were out there.”

  Bastian’s eyebrows rose in silent question. Vik paused, bottle halfway to his mouth. They both stared at me, eyes wide.

  “Victoria came here?” Vik asked.

  Bastian eyed me. “And she didn’t claw your eyes out?”

  “Yeah. It was fine. I just explained that I wasn’t interested and was sorry that her feelings weren’t returned. It’s over. Communication for the win.”

  Vik snorted and leaned back. “She’s not going to let it go.”

  “She will.”

  “She won’t.” Vik held up a hand. “Girls like that don’t get thwarted, my friend. They aren’t a second choice, certainly not to someone as normal as Dagny. Not without having the last word, anyway. Note my correctness in a week when you’re full of regret for letting your guard down.”

  “Dagny isn’t normal,” I snapped. “Not the way you said it, anyway.”

  “She’s normal, and that’s not an insult. I’m just saying that you shouldn’t let your guard down just yet.”

  I rolled my eyes. No, I wasn’t getting into a dramatic breakup story here. Victoria, while she wasn’t exactly an adult, was no problem to me or to Dagny. Her nasty remark about Dagny’s stutter replayed through my mind. While I doubted Victoria would act on an impulse in a violent way . . . maybe Dagny didn’t need to be left alone in social circles, just in case Victoria got mean.

  “Fine,” I said. “Fine. I’ll keep an eye out.”

 
“We will too,” Bastian countered. “We got her back.”

  Vik held up his beer in agreement.

  A large, familiar body blocked the light from outside as Bastian held out a hand for a beer. I tossed it, but Grady advanced into the room and snatched it without breaking stride. He smirked at Bastian, then sat on a wicker chair across from Vik.

  “Gentlemen,” Grady drawled.

  “Grady,” we intoned together.

  The bottle let out a little hiss when he popped it open, then he mirrored it with a sigh. After a long, long drink, Grady set the bottle down, leaned back and muttered, “Weddings suck.”

  “It’s the planning that sucks,” Vik cried and threw a pillow at him. “The rest of it is awesome. People. Great food. Celebrations. This is a dream! Besides, we’re on a private island, you idiot. Weddings rock.”

  Grady glared at him. “Just don’t tell anyone I’m here for two minutes. Two minutes where no one can talk to me.”

  “Helene hounding you?” I asked.

  “Nah, it’s my parents.” Grady rubbed a hand over his eyes. “Mom wants me to try on my tux again, my aunt has questions about the ceremony and where she’ll be standing even though we told her she’d be sitting, and my dad is complaining about the heat because he hates sunscreen.” Grady threw his hands up. “I don’t care about your sunscreen, Dad!”

  Vikram asked Grady about the woman on the beach and her thwarted lover while I turned to Bastian. He sat with his back against the fridge, a brooding stare on his face. He glowered at his computer, then slammed it shut and set it aside. All through high school, he’d always sat on the counters.

  “You good?” I asked.

  He shrugged it off. I peered outside to see if I could find Dagny on the beach. She stood alone near the edge of the surf, arms at her side as she faced the ocean. What was she thinking about?

  “So,” Grady drawled and interrupted my thoughts. “I hear Hernandez is dating Dagny after all. You’re the most on-again, off-again fake couple I’ve ever met.”

  A note of mischief in that tone didn’t reassure me at all. I shot him a glare.

  “Shut up.”

  “What?” Grady spread his hands. “You said you weren’t dating on the phone, but last night she said you are. The way she looked at you over dinner . . . Let’s just say that I saw her feed you that pineapple.”

  Oh, I would always remember that pineapple. Vik tried to hide a laugh behind a cough, but Grady didn’t even attempt to hide his hoot-like laughter that always reminded me of a high-pitched owl.

  “Shut up, Grady.”

  “He protests too much,” Vik cried.

  “We’re not dating,” I snapped, and even I heard the defensiveness in the words. “She just said that for Victoria’s sake. Victoria pulled her aside and talked to her about me, so Dagny wanted to get her off my back.”

  Grady whistled. “Cat fight, my dude.”

  “No cat fights. I just spoke with Victoria. She’s going to back off and get over me. Which is clearly hard to do because I’m such a stud muffin.”

  Vik rolled his eyes so hard he almost fell off the chair. Bastian snorted.

  “Not that easy,” Vik sang. “You hurt her pride, that’s all I’m saying.”

  The uncomfortable truth was that Vik had it right. While I wanted to assume Victoria would back off, she hadn’t exactly said as much. Most of this was wishful thinking, at best. But we were at a wedding and on an island with extremely influential people. If there was one thing Victoria would not want to risk, it was her reputation.

  Or so I hoped.

  “So,” Vik said to Grady. “You’re tying the friggin’ knot.”

  Grady looked up and met Vik’s challenging stare. Vik always kept things light, but there was an undercurrent of disbelief in his tone he didn’t bother to hide. Grady held his gaze for a second and said, “Yeah.”

  Vik hid his response behind a sip of beer. Bastian watched both of them carefully. In all our years together, there had only ever been a few fist fights between us, and those had mostly cleared the air. Grady and Vik went at it the most. They lived on opposite sides of most opinions all their life. Grady was a classic, Vik a progressive. After a few swings, they’d not talk for a week, then we’d come back together like nothing happened at all.

  I found myself hoping they’d just get the beating over with already.

  “You got a problem with it, Vik?” Grady asked.

  “Yes!” Vik threw his hands in the air. “Finally! Can we talk about this? Why the hell are you getting married?”

  Grady motioned in front of him. “Bring it out. What’s your problem with Helene?”

  “Nothing. Helene is lovely.”

  “So why are you acting like I kicked your dog?” Grady snapped. “I’m getting married, Vik. I’m not sacrificing myself to a pagan ritual.”

  “Disagree,” Bastian muttered, but acted like he hadn’t said anything when Grady shot him a glare. Vik schooled a bark of amusement, but only barely.

  When I glared at Bastian in question, he shrugged and mouthed, “Antiquated.”

  “You’re the first to go,” Vik said to Grady. He leaned forward, his forearms leaning on his thighs. “You’re breaking up what we have as brothers.”

  “We meet once a year to do something stupid and dangerous.”

  “Don’t diminish all the years before it,” Vik cried. “You know it’s more than that, and if you’re going to make it small so you can stab us in the back, that’s a low blow.”

  “This decision has nothing to do with you.”

  “Exactly!”

  “You want me to keep you involved in my life?”

  “That would be great.”

  Grady blinked. “Don’t be stupid, Peter Pan. We can’t be idiotic teenagers forever. At some point, we have to grow up.”

  Vik pointed to himself. “I’m a fully functioning adult with a job and a rent payment and plenty of women that love me. I can still have fun as an adult. Don't put that adult crap argument to me, Gray. It will lose every time.”

  “Counter,” Bastian muttered. “Fully functioning is up for debate.”

  Vik glared at him.

  Bastian sent him an innocent look of question.

  “You don’t have to be married to have fun and be free,” Vik said. “That’s all I’m saying. You’re killing our plan to be bachelors and have fun the rest of our lives.”

  “That was your dream, Vik,” Grady said. “Not mine.”

  “It was ours!”

  Vik shot to his feet and Grady followed. Grady was broader through the shoulders, with big hands that could span a basketball and a fierce expression that helped him navigate the most challenging situations. Vik was strong, but a scrapper. He won through sheer mental brawn and the power of surprise. In a fight, no one saw Vik’s next move coming, but no one could endure Grady’s raw strength.

  Bastian slid off the counter to interfere, but I held him back with a shake of my head. “They need it,” I muttered.

  “I’m not making it small,” Grady barked to Vik. “We had awesome years together, and we’ll have more. But I don’t have to be single and angry at women to have fun with you.”

  “I’m not angry at women.”

  “Disagree,” Bastian called.

  Vik flipped him the bird, then turned back to Grady.

  “You can’t go back, Grady. Once this ball starts rolling, it takes you down the other side of the mountain. You leave behind adventure and excitement for diapers and fences and mortgages. You know you won’t make the time to do the crazy things. Not when you have a five-year-old tugging on your pant legs, or something.”

  “Maybe our definition of adventure differs.”

  Vik huffed a breath. “Fine. You’re gone, I can see that. And Helene is fantastic, so I wish you the best. But you at least need to acknowledge what you’re doing here. You’re the trigger that changes everything we’ve had the last ten years. We deserve that.”

  “You wa
nt an apology?”

  “No. I want you to say it.”

  Grady’s nostril flared, and tension built in the room like a brewing storm. On some level, it felt good. Vik vented what Bastian and I had also thought, but didn’t have the balls to say to Grady’s face. Vik had always been the voice—mostly of insanity—but sometimes of truth. If nothing else, Vik gave everything at face value.

  A shout from outside, and the sound of Grady’s phone chiming against his thigh, broke the tension in the air. Grady hesitated.

  “That’s your opinion, Vik.” He moved forward to clap a hand on Vik’s shoulders. “I’m always glad to have it. My opinion is different, because I want the fence, the diapers, the five-year-old, and the woman in my arms every night. I respect your decision not to have it, and want you to respect mine. Got it?”

  Vik nodded once, his expression flat. “Got it.”

  Grady straightened. “Now, my wife is texting me, and I need to go.” He looked at me then. “Best man, you want to say anything at dinner tonight?”

  “Do you need me to?”

  He lifted an inquiring eyebrow. “No, but you’re going to have a speech for the actual reception dinner, right?”

  “It’s going to make you cry, my friend.”

  Grady tried to shove me into the fridge as he passed in an attempt to force levity back in the room. “The only thing that’ll make me cry is how bad the three of you smell. I’m out. See you tonight.”

  13

  Dagny

  Warm sand crept between my toes, all at once solid and crumbly.

  After running into Alison at the yoga class, my bones felt like liquid. The motivation to hold Anthony accountable that had bore me up all these years suddenly floated away. Meeting Anthony and waving the NDA in his face was one thing.

  But his wife?

  Although I only had known her for a few minutes, her warmth and brightness sent my mind careening on a different path that I’d never considered before. The path of subtlety around my biological father. Quiet. All my life I’d wanted to live under the radar except for this one thing: confronting Anthony Dunkin.

  Now, all I could think about was the other side of things. The side that Alison illuminated with her innocent smile and warm acceptance. And what about gentle Helene? I hadn’t expected to like her so much. Their comfortable life was built on a gossamer web of lives. Was Mom one of many other women? Had Anthony done this before? Maybe there were several NDA’s floating out there.