“We know you can handle this,” his mother said, then added, “as long as you’re able to stay focused. As long as you don’t let distractions get in the way.”
Read: as long as you don’t let a woman throw you off.
“Your social life needs to fit around your work, not the other way around,” his father reminded him.
What social life?
“I will make sure my work gets done,” Ren said. “My social life won’t interfere.”
His father nodded, satisfied. His mother, on the other hand, seemed to notice his wordplay, and her eyes narrowed.
“Maybe we should meet this girl,” she murmured.
“It’s too soon,” Ren quickly said. They had found out that he’d proposed to Rachel, but not until they’d been engaged for a year – the summer before he’d gone off to college. The pressure to break up with her had been enormous. They’d guilt tripped. They’d pointed out the distance, the time. How he owed them to focus on his studies. And they’d strongly hinted that, were he to continue in this ill-fated relationship, they would cut him off: no financial support, no contact with family. In the end, he’d given in, knowing that it was probably for the best.
At least, it had seemed like it at the time.
Now, he wasn’t sure how they’d react if they realized he was seeing Rachel again.
“We’ll be checking in,” his father said finally, as they made it to their respective cars. “So you’d better make some progress.”
Ren thought of Rachel. He wanted to make progress there, too.
The only problem was – how the hell was he supposed to do that and be in the office for twelve plus hours a day?
#
“Rachel! How’d you think you did?” A fellow student, Tommy, came jogging up to her after the quiz. “If that was a quiz, I’m going to hate to see what his tests look like.”
Rachel smiled. Tommy was like a puppy, sort of bouncing all over the place. “I think I did okay,” she demurred. Actually, she thought she aced it. But she knew Tommy was struggling, and she didn’t want to rub it in.
They headed down the long hallway towards the outer doors. “Hey, a few of us are going to go grab burgers,” Tommy said. “You want to come with?”
She suppressed a sigh. Tommy was a kid. Not that she had any problems with age differences, generally speaking, but she was twenty-eight, and Tommy was twenty-three and often acted eighteen on a good day. They could engage in some great geek talks, but he’d horse around with some of the other young guys in the class, or talk about going to parties on campus. She shook her head. Really, an MBA guy at a frat party? She just knew that she didn’t want any part of that.
“Who else is coming?” she asked carefully.
His grin widened. “I don’t know. We’ll find out when we get there.” He tried for a look of innocence.
Which was his way of trying to ask her out under the guise of “everybody’s going.” Now she sighed aloud.
“Sorry, Tommy, I have plans tonight,” she said, and they stepped outside. Snow was falling in fat, plush flakes. She felt the cold like little flashes as each flake hit her cheeks. “Oh, damn it.”
She loved snow. It was beautiful, making the world pristine and quiet. The problem was, Seattle was many things, but designed for snow? With its narrow streets and steep hills, not so much. Fortunately, they didn’t get snow that often. But when they did… gah.
“Oh, man. You live out in the boonies, right?” Tommy said. “It looks like it’s really coming down.”
“I see that.” She wrapped her scarf around her throat and pulled on her hat. “Well, tonight’s drive is going to be fun.”
“You might want to think about staying in the city.”
She laughed. “I’m not renting a hotel room just to avoid some snow.”
“You could stay with me,” he said, with a wink.
“Tommy,” she warned.
“Hey. You can’t blame a guy for trying.” He sounded cheerful. “See you at class next week?”
“Yeah.” She watched as he galumphed off, quickly chatting up another student, a younger woman named Mathilde who seemed far more eager for his attention. Good for them, Rachel thought. Guys that young were exhausting.
She pulled out her phone. Ren had texted her that he’d be working late, but that he’d come get her when her test was done. With the weather turning the way it was, all she wanted to do was get home where it was warm and cozy. She pulled out her phone and called him.
“Hey there,” he said, his voice rumbly and low. “How’d it go?”
“Can’t be positive, but I feel confident I nailed it,” she said, smiling.
“That’s great.” He sounded so encouraging. She just wanted to cuddle up with that voice. “So now what? It’s only eight. We could…”
“I was calling because I wanted to cancel tonight,” she interrupted.
He sighed. “Oh?”
“It’s snowing here, and the drive back is going to be a mess,” she said quickly. “I don’t want to think about hanging out here for another few hours, letting the snow pile up, then having to crawl across the bridge and down I-90 to get back home in the slush and the snow.”
“That does sound dangerous.” He paused. “You know, you could… okay. Let me preface this with: I am not making a pass at you.”
She laughed. “Oh-kay.”
“But you could stay here. With me. In the city,” he clarified. “That way, you won’t have to drive home in the weather and the dark.”
Unlike Tommy’s flirtatious offer, this felt like genuine concern. “I can handle it,” she said.
“I’m not doubting your driving abilities,” he countered. “I’m just saying: it sucks out tonight. If you can avoid it, maybe you should.”
“I’ll still have to go to work in the morning,” she pointed out, then shut her mouth with an audible click. Am I really considering this?
“By then, they’ll have plowed,” he said, his voice smooth and persuasive. “And if you go in the morning, at least there’ll be some light.”
She bit her lip, considering it.
“No,” she finally drew out.
“Okay,” he said, backing off. “Mind if I ask why, though?”
Her mind flashed back to the limo… grasping hands, the way their mouths fused together. “You know why,” she said, her voice low and raspy.
“I promise I’ll be a complete gentleman.”
“Oh?”
“Well,” he said, “a PG-13 gentleman, at the very least. I do still want to convince you that dating is a good idea, and hopefully a little making out is involved.”
She chuckled. At least he was being honest. “Would you consider going to a frat party?” she asked.
There was silence on the line. “Do you want to go to a frat party?”
“God, no.” She laughed.
“I didn’t go to frat parties when I was in college,” he said. “Not that there’s anything wrong with them, I suppose, I just didn’t have the time or the bandwidth for parties and that kind of thing. My family would’ve killed me.”
That sobered her.
I’m going to be too busy for you, Rachel.
“Well, I’m going to head out,” she said, as she got to her car.
“I get another day.”
She blinked. “Huh?”
“You said you’d figure it out in a week,” he said. “I get another day of courting you to help you make that decision, if you’re canceling on me tonight.”
She smirked. “Do you really think another twenty-four hours is going to make a difference?”
“I’ll take any advantage I can get.” He let out a low sigh of disappointment. “Just… please be careful. And call me when you get home?”
“Okay,” she said, with an eye roll.
“Not just to let me know you’re okay. So we can talk.”
She felt her belly knot, warming at that. She liked talking with him, as well.
Especially in bed.
“I’ll talk to you in a bit,” she said, then hung up. She climbed into her cold car, hoping that her heater would decide to work full blast. She turned her key.
Nothing.
She frowned. “Oh, come on, baby. Don’t do this to me. Not now.” She turned the key in the ignition again.
The engine made a sickly sound, like a cow being tipped. Then nothing.
“Oh, no, no, no…”
She got out, debating opening the engine. Hailey would know what to do… but then, Rachel wasn’t Hailey. She felt tears of frustration fill her eyes.
Here she was, in a cold parking lot at the University of Washington, at eight o’clock at night, in a full snow storm. With a dead car.
Fantastic.
She took a deep breath. She could probably call roadside assistance, but by the time they got out there, she’d be dragging the car to some car repair place. And she really only trusted her friend Kyla with her car – she winced at the tow truck price to bring her car all the way back to Snoqualmie. In the meantime, she’d be out in the cold for half an hour waiting for the tow truck, at the very least. She’d bet there were plenty of accidents tonight, from the snow and ice.
Damn it!
She pulled her phone out of her pocket. Ren’s place would be warm, she thought. And he was nearby, relatively speaking.
She opened up her contacts, then selected him, hitting dial and closing her eyes.
“That was fast,” he said.
“My car won’t start.”
“Where are you?” he said immediately. “I’ll come pick you up.”
She took a deep breath. “All right.” She told him the building and the lot number.
“We’ll take care of your car and everything tomorrow, don’t worry,” he reassured her. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
He hung up, and she shivered in her car. So she was going to stay at Ren’s house.
She was going into the lion’s den.
He promised to be a perfect, PG-13 gentleman.
The only problem was, she hadn’t promised anything.
Chapter 6
It was around eight-thirty when Ren finally got Rachel back to his condo. She was shivering in her car when he’d picked her up, but now she was warm, and hopefully she’d be comfortable at his place. He found himself a little anxious when he opened the door, ushering her inside.
“Wow,” she said. “This is nice.”
“It’s not too much, is it?” he asked. “I just use it as a place to sleep, really. I bought it, but my Mom sent in her interior designer.”
“It definitely looks all pulled together.”
Was that a good thing, or a bad thing? He glanced around. Everything was sort of modern and minimalist and tasteful, in muted shades of gray and slate blue and sage green and silver. It was funny how he’d barely noticed it before.
He heard Rachel’s stomach growl. “When was the last time you ate?”
“Lunch,” she admitted. “With the test and all, I didn’t really have time for dinner.”
“Well, I said I’d feed you, and I think going out or waiting for takeout is going to be a mess,” he said. “It’s not fancy, but how about my fallback food?”
“What’s that?” she asked with a grin, taking off her coat.
“Grilled cheese and tomato soup.”
“A staple, and a classic,” she said, her eyes darting around for someplace to stow her coat and backpack. He took both, gesturing for her to follow him. He led her to the guest bedroom, turning on the light. This room was done in shades of gold and wheat, with a sumptuous sheen over everything.
“This is your room,” he said.
“Very nice,” she said, with clear admiration. “You know, someone else offered to let me stay over at his place tonight, but I get the feeling he didn’t have a spare bed in mind.”
Ren felt jealous like a hot, vicious punch. “Oh?” he asked, keeping his voice calm. Or at least, he hoped he did.
She laughed, and he guessed he didn’t do as well as he’d hoped. “It was this kid from school. He’s the one that still goes to frat parties. He’s been trying to ask me out for a year.”
“Is he having some trouble taking no for an answer?” Ren said, his voice low and intense.
“Why? Would you engage in fisticuffs over me?” she said with a mock British accent, shaking her head.
“I take MMA lessons to keep in shape, and to blow off steam,” Ren said. Which reminded him: he hadn’t had a chance to get in the ring all last week, thanks to the Zhuhai shenanigans. “If the guy’s bothering you, I can make him stop, believe me.”
Rachel’s eyes widened. “You’re serious,” she said. “Huh.”
He couldn’t help it. He reached out, stroked her cheek. “I don’t want anyone harassing you, or hurting you,” he said.
They stared at each other for a long minute. Then she seemed to shake herself off, her smile weak. “Well, I appreciate it, but I can take care of myself,” she said. “And you know if anybody tried anything, Hailey would have probably maimed them with a tire iron.”
“She’s formidable,” he agreed. “C’mon. Let’s get you fed.”
She followed him back to the kitchen, cooing over his stainless steel appliances and the size of his fridge. He felt oddly proud that she liked it. Maybe she’d be able to start envisioning herself here, he thought.
Wait, whoa. Living together?
He’d only reconnected with her a month ago, only started regularly talking to her a few days ago. But in his gut, he knew. He’d screwed up, letting her go. She was still funny, still fun – still smart, and thoughtful, and strong. Beyond that, there were things that he still wanted to learn about her, mysteries that he was still learning. He got the feeling he’d be able to learn more about her for years, and he was looking forward to it.
If she lets me.
He got out two cast iron pans and heated them on the iron burners as he got out a loaf of sourdough, putting out slices and loading them up with mustard, black pepper, and grated cheddar cheese. He put the tomato soup in bowls, having Rachel microwave them. Then he brushed the sandwiches with a bit of melted butter and popped them between the pans, letting the heat melt the cheese and toast the bread. In a few minutes, they were at his dining table, chowing down.
“This is so good,” she murmured around a mouthful. “Oh, my God.”
“I’m a late night snacker,” he said, his chest puffing out a bit. “I sometimes work long hours. This was my go-to snack in college.”
“I can see why.” She swallowed hard. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Of course.” He crunched into his sandwich.
She looked hesitant, her violet eyes clearly tentative. “Did you miss me? When you went off to college?”
He swallowed hard, the sandwich jagged in his throat. “Of course I did.” At the time, he’d been homesick, studying his ass off, and missing her like a lost limb.
“How long before you had another girlfriend?”
“It was a while,” he said. “I didn’t date anybody freshman year. Not the first semester of sophomore year, either.”
“Oh.” She shrugged. “Not that it matters, really. I just always wondered.”
“Wondered what?”
“How long it took to get over me, I guess.” Her laugh was rough. “That’s stupid.”
“No,” he said. Then he frowned. “How long before you… you know? Started seeing someone else?”
“I didn’t have a boyfriend until senior year of college.” She grimaced. “But I did sleep with several guys, starting in freshman year. Mostly in an attempt to forget you.”
He winced. He couldn’t blame her, but he suddenly wanted to see each and every one of those men in the ring, so he could beat their brains out.
Dude, get a grip.
“Like I said before, I’ve had a few relationships that didn’t work out, and now I’m focusing on my school, my work, my family.”
Where she’d sounded matter-of-fact about it before, she now sounded a little forlorn. “You must understand that. It’s not like a relationship fits easily into that dynamic.”
“Not easily,” he agreed. “But it’s not impossible, either.”
Her lips quirked on either side. “Says the single man who went back into work at ten o’clock last night.”
“Touché.” He nodded to concede her point. “Let’s just say I believe that it’s possible to have a relationship and do all that other stuff.”
“I don’t.” Her words fell like a stone between them. “Not without prioritization, anyway. And some really hard boundaries. You can’t give everything to everybody, you’d just disappear, get crushed under the weight of everyone’s expectations.”
“That’s true.” He frowned. “You’re juggling three things. How do you manage?”
“My sisters are supportive,” she said. “They run the store, and know that I can only work on weekends, and that’s mostly the books and administrative stuff, which Cressida helps with. The casino knows that I’m working on my MBA, and my grad program knows that I’m working with a job. I negotiate what I need, when I need it.”
He nodded. “So, what do you need from me?” he asked, in a low voice.
“Who says I need anything from you?”
He stayed serious, ignoring her attempt at playfulness. “What do you want from me, then?”
She sighed. “I want to know where I stand with you. I want assurances that you’re not going to hurt me.”
I’m still in love with you.
It was too early, way too early, and way too stupid to make that kind of a declaration now, so he bit back on it. “I am not going to hurt you.”
“You’re not going to want to,” she said, getting up and grabbing the now empty plates and bowls. “But at some point, you’re going to have a hard choice, and I am not sure that I’m going to be on the plus side of that decision matrix, you know?”
He wanted to say that it was unfair. He’d made the wrong choice ten years before, when he was eighteen. “I will always put you first,” he said instead, his voice solemn.
“Don’t.” Her eyes flashed. “Don’t say shit like that. You can’t possibly mean it, and it makes me distrust you.”
Ship of Fools Page 8