by Sophie Lark
Marco noticed James’s glance as well. He slipped his hand into Anika’s casually, as a boyfriend might do. Both James and Hannah observed this. Anika could tell Hannah was bursting to text Gwen about it as quickly as possible.
“What have you two been doing?” Hannah asked. “Tennis or running?”
“Running, obviously,” James said, a little tersely.
Hannah looked at him in surprise.
“No racquets,” he said.
Hannah laughed, “Of course, Sherlock. You notice everything.”
It was true. Anika used to say the same thing to James—he was remarkably perceptive.
“I had to bring James to this shop,” Hannah gestured back to the record store. “My friend owns it. He told me he had a copy of a Stones single with the original picture sleeve showing the ‘68 riots.”
“Did you get it?” Marco asked keenly. He apparently knew exactly which album Hannah was referencing.
Anika did not. She only knew secondhand from James that you were supposed to call record-players “turntables” and the records themselves were “albums” or “vinyl.”
“I didn’t buy it,” James said. “He wanted too much for it.”
Marco laughed, “What does that matter to you?”
James shrugged, looking annoyed.
In times past, he had always enjoyed negotiating, getting a deal. But Anika suspected that wasn’t why James had passed up the album. He looked like his mood was low. She had noticed it on his face as soon as he came out of the shop, before he had glanced over and spotted them.
“We were on our way to get a bubble tea,” Marco said.
He probably would have followed that up with something like, “Nice to see you again!” but Hannah said, “We were going to get coffee too! We’ll join you!”
Neither Anika nor James wanted a double date, but there wasn’t any reason to decline. So all four made their way to the Bamboo Cafe. Hannah ordered a frappuccino, James an iced latte. Marco asked Anika to choose from amongst the dozens of flavors and combinations of bubble tea. She ordered almond with black tapioca for both of them.
“I don’t promise you’re going to like it,” she warned when their order came ready. “It’s a little weird.”
Marco took a sip and then chewed.
“God that’s bizarre!” he said with relish, sipping again.
“I can’t stand bubble tea,” Hannah said with a shudder.
“Me either,” James said.
“Well, you don’t drink anything that’s sweet!” Anika said.
Their eyes met across the table and Anika’s heart lurched. Whenever she forgot and made a comment on the thousand things she knew about him, she felt embarrassed and confused. It seemed faux pas, yet to pretend they were strangers would be false.
“No, I don’t,” James said quietly. “Do you still drink that chardonnay with the horse on the label?”
It was cheap swill, something they used to buy at the convenience store closest to campus. There was something in the flavor they both liked—a sort of buttery taste that appealed to James, a caramel flavor that Anika loved.
She shook her head. “I haven’t seen it anywhere else,” she said, almost in a whisper.
“James,” Hannah said, drawing back his attention, “are we still going hiking over Labor Day?”
“What?” James asked.
“Are we still going hiking I said. Over the Labor Day long weekend.”
“Sure,” he said.
“They should come with us!”
James made a noncommittal sound.
“Anika, you like hiking, don’t you?” Hannah said, turning toward her. “We’re doing the Blue Ridge trail the Saturday before Labor Day. You two should come with us!”
“Where is it?” Marco asked.
“In Storm King State Park,” Hannah said, “north of the city. It’s a bit steep at first, but once you get up, you can see the whole Hudson valley.”
Anika was finding their coffee date awkward enough, but she did love to hike and knew from experience how lovely that area was at this time of year. Actually, she had hiked one of the other trails in the same system with James. Perhaps because he remembered it too, James seemed amenable. Marco was ready to agree to anything.
“That’s a great idea,” Marco said. “Let’s all go together.”
“It’s set then,” Hannah said happily. “Gwen and Blaine are coming too. It’ll be a party!”
13
Monday at work, Anika was both swamped and distracted. Their server had crashed over the weekend, and Calvin was in a foul mood trying to set it right again. To make matters worse, Gwen informed her that three of the criteria for operating a non-profit in New York State would be changing in the fall, and they would have to resubmit their credentials for approval within the month.
“I can handle some of it,” Gwen said, “but I need your help on the board of directors section, and some other parts.”
“We could have the accountant take a look,” Anika said. “We don’t want to lose our 501c designation.”
“I had to get a lot of this together anyway,” Gwen said. “Marco Moretti wanted me to send him a full dossier.”
“He did?” Anika asked, surprised.
“Yeah. Gemma over at Bennet Knight says he’s going over everything with a fine-tooth comb. She said he’s nice and all but he’s coming down hard on anybody who’s not pulling their weight. He’s looking for inefficiencies and he’s fired four people already.”
“I did know about that part,” Anika said. “Honestly, it’s probably about time. I think Dominic held back on a few things, because of his relationship with my father. But it’s a business, and it will die without someone strong at the head of it, somebody who knows what they’re doing.”
“And if Bennet Knight dies, the Red Line dies,” Gwen said.
“Right.”
“Well then, all hail the new king,” Gwen said.
“Goddamnit!” Calvin yelled as the server crashed once more. He put his head down on his arms, knocking over his collection of Dr. Who bobbleheads. Hannah kindly came over to stand them all up again.
“Hannah,” Anika beckoned her over, “would you be willing to get some snacks for Calvin? He’s been here since four this morning and I think he needs another dose of sugar and caffeine to keep him going.”
“Sure!” Hannah said cheerfully. She never minded being sent on menial errands, as long as she got to leave the office and swipe the company credit card.
“Thank you,” Anika said fervently.
As soon as Hannah was gone, Gwen sidled over to Anika and said quietly, out of Calvin’s earshot, “So how do you feel about our new overlord?”
“Marco?” Anika asked innocently.
“Yes, ‘Marco’,” Gwen said, imitating Anika’s ridiculous tone.
“He’s good,” Anika said. “Like I said, he’s doing what needs to be done.”
“I’m not talking about his business skills,” Gwen said. “I want to hear about his other skills...”
“I wouldn’t know!” Anika said, laughing.
“Come on now,” Gwen said, “it’s not just Hannah and Gemma talking—everybody knows he’s completely infatuated with you. Are you dating? Is it serious?”
“I don’t know,” Anika said. “We’ve been out a few times. God, I feel like I’m in high school. I like him! Is that what you want to hear? Yes, I like him.”
“Oh, you like him,” Gwen said. “Wow, somebody book the Waldorf, I hear summer wedding bells. She likes him!”
“Quit busting my balls,” Anika grumbled.
“Liking is for puppies and ice cream cones,” Gwen persisted. “You’re talking about a man who looks like a walking cologne ad.”
“Yes, he’s hot,” Anika said, “and romantic, and clever, and all those things.”
“But...?”
“There’s no but,” Anika said.
“It seems like there’s a but.”
“W
ell...I’m just not entirely sure I trust him. It could be a cultural thing. You know, he’s intense, and slightly dramatic. So maybe it’s just a worry that he might be exaggerating.” Anika shrugged. “Or else it could be my own issues.”
“Hmm,” Gwen said. “Well, it’s got to feel real.”
“That’s right,” Anika said. “That’s it exactly. It’s got to feel real.”
Then, to change the subject, she said, “What about you and Blaine? Hannah said we’re all going riding together over the long weekend.”
“Oh god,” Gwen rolled her eyes. “He can be a complete idiot. But he does have those other skills we were talking about.”
“I’m not surprised,” Anika said. “Dentists have to be good with their hands.”
“Right,” Gwen said, “and let me assure you, he’s an excellent dentist.”
Anika hadn’t told Gwen that she had another date with Marco planned for Wednesday morning.
Marco picked her up outside her building bright and early Saturday morning, driving a red vintage Camaro she hadn’t seen before.
“New car?” Anika asked.
“One of my dad’s,” Marco said.
As always, he waited at the passenger side to open her door for her.
He had refused to tell Anika his plans, only giving her that mischievous smile and promising that she would like the surprise.
She supposed he was taking her for breakfast, or maybe a walk—she had already steeled herself for the fact that she would probably be late to work. But Marco didn’t seem to be staying in the city at all, heading north across the river and out of Manhattan.
I’m definitely going to be late, Anika thought. She’d have to text Gwen. They were meeting someone from the Charities Bureau that afternoon to get their certification updated.
As Marco drove further and further out, the road became more deserted. Anika couldn’t think of anything in this direction outside the city. Definitely no brunch places.
“Where are you taking me?” she laughed, half confused and fully curious. “I feel like you’re about to murder me.”
“Haven’t you been out here before?” Marco asked.
“No,” Anika said.
“It’s an airfield,” he said, “for private planes.”
“Bennet likes to spend, but even he wasn’t crazy enough to think we could afford our own jet,” Anika said.
“Well, neither can I,” Marco admitted, “but I have a few friends from school who can.”
She supposed he wanted to take her up in one of those small prop planes or helicopters that do tours of the city, but when she saw the size of the plane on the runway, she realized he meant to take an actual trip.
“Where are we going?” she said. “I can’t, Marco! I have a meeting this afternoon to get our non-profit approved. It’s important—I can’t miss it!”
“I already talked to Gwen,” Marco assured her. “She has everything she needs, she can handle it.”
Anika looked in wonder at the long, sleek silver and white body of the plane. Its nose and wings were so thin, it looked more like a spaceship than an airplane. A ramp led invitingly from the pavement up to the unseen interior.
It certainly was tempting. The Red Line was so important to her; it was her baby. But sometimes it felt like an anvil around her neck. It had cost her so many things. The idea of forgetting about it, just for a day or two, the idea of being completely free and a little bit selfish…it was intoxicating.
Down on the tarmac, the trim, handsome pilot chatted with a chicly-dressed flight attendant. They waved to Anika as Marco parked the car.
“I don’t have a toothbrush or any clothes!” Anika protested weakly.
“I have everything you need,” Marco said. “I’ve been planning all week. Trust me, Anika.”
He turned off the engine and came round to open her door, holding out his hand to help her out.
“Alright,” Anika agreed, stepping out, “I trust you.”
The plane’s engine was already running as they approached, a smooth and steady thrumming sound that seemed to vibrate through her whole body. She could feel goosebumps rising on her arms, from the sound, from the cool morning breeze, and from the anticipation.
“Welcome!” the pilot said, shaking their hands.
“Right this way,” the flight attendant said, ushering them toward the ramp.
They ascended the staircase into the softly humming body of the plane. It was as sleek inside as out, all butter-soft leather, polished chrome, and gleaming woodwork. It smelled incredible, like a new car multiplied by a thousand, like it might have been made that morning.
Anika sunk down into a chair far more comfortable than her actual bed at home. It swiveled under her, able to face in any direction.
The pretty flight attendant appeared at her side, offering to take her jacket and bring her a drink or a snack. A bottle of chilled champagne already sat on the table between her and Marco. Marco wasted no time in popping the cork to pour them each a glass.
There were no safety announcements or delays. Once the attendant was sure they had everything they needed, she and the captain retired to the front of the plane to give Marco and Anika their privacy.
In minutes, the engines had ramped up to full throttle and the plane swooped up into the sky. Anika had flown private once or twice before, but never in a jet as luxurious as this. It moved through the air like a bird, light and swift.
The golden morning light came pouring in the windows, which were much larger than the little portals on the side of a normal plane. Sitting across from her, Marco looked handsomer than ever, his eyes brilliantly green, taking in every inch of her.
“Are you going to tell me where we’re going?” Anika asked.
“Just Aruba,” Marco said. “I would have loved to have taken you somewhere more exotic—Thailand maybe, or Paris. But I know you don’t want to miss too much work.”
“Just Aruba!” Anika laughed. “That’s exotic enough for me. I haven’t been on vacation in ages. And definitely not to anywhere tropical.”
“It’s a favorite of mine,” Marco said. “My mother had her third wedding there. Which you wouldn’t think would endear me to the place, but while I was avoiding her husband-of-the-month, I found some pretty amazing spots. I’ll show you.”
Anika sank back into the plush seat, looking out the window in anticipation. It was too dark to see much below them, but she could tell they were already out over the ocean.
“I don’t suppose you brought me a swimsuit?” she asked.
“Of course,” Marco said confidently, sipping his champagne.
“What size?” Anika laughed.
“The right size!” Marco assured her—and then admitted, “Hannah helped me.”
Anika was afraid to see what Hannah considered appropriate swimwear, but she wouldn’t say anything to make Marco feel bad about it, no matter what it might look like. She steeled herself for pink spangles.
The flight passed quickly. Anika asked Marco how things were going over at Bennet Knight. He assured her the transition was going well, but he was vague on the specifics. She supposed he didn’t want to say too much because he didn’t want to put her in a position where she would have to take sides in any conflict between him and her father. But he promised her that no matter what changes were on the horizon, the Red Line would remain a top priority.
“You’re lucky to have such good staff in your office,” he said.
“We’ve all become close,” she said. “Especially since I moved back to the city. I used to only see them once every month or two. Maybe a good boss shouldn’t be friends with their employees, but it’s hard not to. I like them, and I care about them.”
Marco nodded, looking slightly uncomfortable. Anika thought he might be feeling badly that he’d had to fire some people at Bennet Knight, which had hardly put him in a friendly position with the remaining employees.
“I have had to come down on my team a few times,” An
ika hastened to add, not wanting to make him feel criticized. “It comes with being in a leadership position.”
But Marco just nodded again and changed the subject to what they might do with their limited time on the island.
Thanks to the speed and streamlined process of a private jet, they landed with almost the whole day ahead of them. Marco asked her what she would like to do first, and Anika elected to go snorkeling. Marco had suggested scuba diving, but she’d never gotten certified.
Marco had a convertible waiting for them on the tarmac, as they deplaned into the thick, humid air, onto a small airstrip completely surrounded by palm trees and tall grass. Marco took two small suitcases from the flight attendant, stowing them in the boot of the car. It was a vintage BMW with an interior like a tiny cockpit—all knobs and dials.
Anika watched admiringly as Marco deftly shifted gears to pull out on the narrow tropical road. He drove like a demon, which Anika usually would have hated, but she remembered that he had been a race car driver, after all. It was hot enough here that she was grateful for the speed sending a steady breeze into their faces, making her hair stream out behind her like a flag.
“Don’t worry,” Marco said, “I brought sunscreen. The sun’s a lot stronger down close to the equator.”
He probably didn’t need to worry about that; he was so tan already. But Anika was grateful that he’d considered her much fairer skin. She could hardly handle the little sunshine they got in New York.
Marco drove them to a small private beach where they rented the gear they needed, along with a cabana for resting and changing clothes. Marco let her go in first, passing her the compact suitcase he had carried across the sand from their car.
Anika opened it up, relieved to find an assortment of perfectly reasonable swimsuits, including a simple and sporty two-piece that would be perfect for snorkeling. She mentally blessed Hannah, resolving to let her leave early every Friday for a month.
Anika changed quickly, exiting the cabana so Marco could take his turn.
Marco whistled approvingly as Anika came out in the suit.
“Well done Hannah!” he proclaimed.
“I should never have doubted her,” Anika said.