She's Out of Control

by Kristin Billerbeck

  “Sure you do,” Seth says. “You loved working for Purvi back at Selectech, and the Indian culture is great. You love the food, the people. I don’t understand.”

  Finally, I’m annoyed. “Seth, I can’t go to India with you. What would Pastor Romanski think? This is just one more extension of being your buddy. Take Sam with you if you want company.”

  “Sam isn’t qualified to go there.”

  That’s it. I’ve got nothing to lose. “When you kiss me, do you want to be my friend? It doesn’t feel like you want to be my friend, but I’m not a very good judge, I suppose.”

  He pauses before speaking, and he breathes a jagged breath. “No, quite frankly, when I kiss you I want to ravage you—all of you—which is why I err on the side of safety. Our Christian faith is more important than my desires.”

  But there’s this thing called marriage that makes that lust legal. “You’re not a priest. You don’t have to live your whole life that way, you know?”

  “I asked you to marry me once, Ash, and you said no.”

  “That wasn’t really a proposal. That was more of forfeiture.”

  “Can we talk about this when you get home? I’m an engineer, Ash. I’m not going to do this right. Tell me what you want, and I’ll do it.”

  “You won’t be there to talk when I get home. Hans says that you would know by now if you wanted to marry me. That you don’t really want to get married, and I might be the good-for-now girl.”

  “Hans is a fifty-year-old man who left his wife and kids for the stupid nanny. And I do mean stupid. He’s old enough to be her father, possibly her grandfather. Are you actually confiding in him about me?”

  “No, but . . .”

  “Ash. I know I have a lot of issues. I grew up on the other side of the world, and things are different here. I’m not like Cary Grant in those old movies you watch. I just don’t know what I want. In the meantime, you need to stop talking to Hans, and don’t ever take any of his advice.”

  “Deal,” I submit. But I have to admit, my heart is more done with this relationship than I’d like to admit. I’m tired of being second-best. I’m tired of feeling inferior and waiting like a lovesick puppy for him to throw me a bone.

  Speaking of which, I hear squeals and a few yelps. “Rhett’s here at work with me. Do you know how ridiculous I feel telling people my dog’s name is Rhett Butlah? I’m already older and single, so you know what they think.”

  I start to giggle. “‘Frankly, my dear . . .’”

  “Come home, Ashley,” he says with a heat I didn’t think he could feel. “At least meet my boss and talk to him about the job.”

  “India smells like raw sewage, Seth.”

  “I’ll wear cologne.”

  “My plane gets in at eight a.m. not this Saturday, but next.” I relent. Why do I always relent?

  “I’ll be there.”

  “Good night, Seth.”

  “Sleep tight.”

  We hang up the phone, and it’s settled. I am Alice on the Brady Bunch. Seth knows just which buttons to push to get me running. Lord, if he’s not the one for me, please free me. Take me out from under his spell.

  13

  The fog hangs over San Francisco like a thick, woolly blanket that softens the edges of everything and blots out most of the morning’s rays. The airplane’s wheels touch the ground with a screech, and soon Ashley emerges from the runway, flushed from her long night’s travel yet sporting a healthy pink glow. She tosses her hair back with manicured nails, and her body warms at the sight of her one true love.

  Seth is standing, ankles crossed, leaning against his BMW—a brand-new 745iL. Rhett is in his arms and jumps from a dangerous height to rush and greet Ashley. She scoops up the puppy, allowing him to rain kisses upon her cheek, while she breathes in the salty San Francisco Bay air and exhales deeply.

  “I’m so glad to be home,” she yells over the roar of the airplanes.

  “We’re so glad to have you home.” Seth embraces her tightly. “Rhett and I missed you with a passion. Life is not the same without you.”

  “I don’t know what to say. I’m sure you both did fine.” She giggles and twists her finger into her hair.

  “No, we didn’t do fine.” Seth bows to one knee. “We can’t manage life on our own, Ashley. We need you like a flower needs the sun.” He lifts his hand to the sky. “Like the earth needs the rain. We were parched without you. Desperate and dehydrated.”

  “I’m here now.” Ashley sinks to her knees and kisses Seth.

  “Don’t ever leave us again.” Seth holds out a ring, a spectacular radiant cut diamond. “Marry me, Ashley. Marry us. Don’t leave us again.”

  “Oh Seth—” Ashley falls into Seth’s arms.

  “Ma’am, can you put your seat back up? We’re landing soon.” A perky flight attendant jars me from the perfect dream. Parched! Seth was parched, for heaven’s sake.

  “Yeah, sure.” I put the seat up and look at Hans, who is smiling in amusement. “What?”

  “That Seth must be quite the hero,” he says with one eyebrow raised. “You had a smile on your face that defies explanation.”

  I rub my face, feeling the red color my cheeks. “Never mind. Did you get any work done?”

  “Tons, until you decided to have an interactive dream. It was quite entertaining. You talk in your sleep, you know.”

  I think this is the most embarrassing moment of my life. And trust me, that’s saying something. “Don’t tell me what I said. I don’t even want to know. Just tell me what you think of my patent work on this trip.”

  “I think you’re a genius. A genius who is adorable when she talks in her sleep.”

  “That just sounds bad. Don’t say that.” I take out my Bible threateningly.

  “Okay, I give up. Do you promise not to preach at me?”

  “You’d do well to pick up this Book yourself, but I promise not to read anything out loud, at least for now. If, that is, you promise to give up the talk about anything I do in my sleep. The glass ceiling is thick enough; I don’t need rumors starting around the office.”

  “Very well. I’m anxious to see your friend Seth again. He must be one of those guys who compensates for his looks in other ways.”

  “I beg your pardon. Seth is extremely good-looking. A hottie, in fact.”

  “Ugh, don’t say that word. You sound twelve. It reminds me of Sophia and I’m not ready to see her yet.”

  And I thought I made things difficult. “Do Sophia a favor, Hans. Send her home.” I shove everything under the seat in front of me as I feel the plane descend further. “You never did tell me what happened to your wife. Did she marry the other guy?”

  “They’re living together.”

  “With the kids?” My fingers fly to my mouth. “I’m sorry, that’s really none of my business.”

  “Ashley, I’ve taken Gainnet from a fledging start-up to a $250 million company. Let’s talk about something I’ve done right, okay? Even something that you’ve done right is a better topic: Sophia will love the ruby you picked for her. Thank you.”

  “And thank you for this.” I hold up the exquisite sapphire ring. “I never could have bought it without your bartering.” Though I must admit the ring hasn’t brought me nearly the amount of joy I thought it would. It hasn’t relieved any of the pain of Seth’s long, slow rejection, and the loss of my own feelings towards him.

  Hans taps my finger. “You have excellent taste. That piece is classically Renaissance. It will never go out of style. Jewelry should always be like that, never trendy. My father was a jeweler in Prague, and you have a very good eye.”

  “I guess it’s a gift,” I say. “But I thought you were from Austria.”

  “I am. My father was a jeweler in Prague.”

  All righty, then. My boss’s life is more complicated than a hybrid circuit board. But I’m enjoying Hans. If it’s possible to enjoy your slithering yet utterly charming boss. We have this camaraderie where we dispense with f
ormality and just lay it on the line. I love that. I don’t have to hide my Christianity in a closet, and he doesn’t have to try and pretend his lifestyle doesn’t offend me. Naturally, it’s an affront to women everywhere for him to keep a woman he doesn’t love out of sheer convenience. When Hans dies, his obituary will be about what he did—PROFITABLE GAINNET CEO DIES. He could be so much more than that, but I fear he’ll never explore his better side.

  As we descend, I’m reminded that no matter how many times I land at SFO, I hate to land at SFO. When you come in over the San Francisco Bay, you can’t see anything but water. And as you get closer and closer to the water, you start to panic until the wheels touch the ground, and you suddenly view cement, which by now you want to kiss with reverence.

  After a fairly quick line, we exit customs. Sophia is waiting for Hans, and comes running to him, sort of like I dreamed Seth would run to me. Of course, Seth is nowhere to be found, and even though my feelings have changed, I’m still disappointed.

  By now Sophia is draped around Hans like a knit shawl. She’s wearing straight-leg espresso-brown leather pants with a cashmere sweater, and she looks like she just stepped off the runway. The final touch is her gorgeous glittery lip gloss—just the thing most women wear at eight a.m.

  I don’t think I’ll ever see Sophia the same way after this trip. I’ll certainly never be envious again. Maybe she’s not the sharpest knife in the drawer, but she’s holding on so tightly to something so wrong for her. In that way, I’m starting to see that she’s not that different from me. The truth is, I haven’t committed my relationship with Seth to the Lord in a long time. I was always afraid the answer wouldn’t be what I wanted.

  Hans, meanwhile, seems completely oblivious to Sophia’s presence, and it grieves me like a lost relative. Will he ever value anyone? Or will he just go through life not feeling anything because emotions hurt too much?

  “I’ll see you Monday, Ashley.” Hans salutes me.

  “Good-bye Ashley,” Sophia sings out in her beautiful Italian way. “Thank you for taking care of my Hans.”

  I wave them both off and begin to look around for Seth. After a thorough search of the international terminal, I jog outside, secretly hoping my dream has a basis in reality, but he’s not at the curb either. Come on, Seth, I mumble with vehemence. I turn on my cell phone and see there’s a message. Punching in my code, I hear Seth’s voice and my eyes close.

  “Ashley, it’s me. I’m really sorry, but I unexpectedly had to go to India this morning. I waited as long as I could, but it was the only flight I could catch before Wednesday. Rhett’s at home with Kay, and Sam is going to pick you up. I’ll call you as soon as I get in.” I’m trying to make this register. Seth is in India. He went without me. Who says you need closure?

  I drop my bags around my feet and look at the line of cabs. Hans is driving away in the company car as we speak, and I’m waiting for Sam. The big, mean, burrito-eating machine. I settle myself on my red suitcase, which substitutes as a camp seat, and I force myself not to think about my situation, but tears are coming unabated anyway. He left me. I’ve been under this delusion that I dumped him, but when all is said and done, Seth did the leaving.

  A half an hour passes, and I’m still waiting without enough will of my own to get into a cab. Just as I’m about to force myself to stand up and move, Dr. Kevin Novak drives up in his Porsche Boxter. “I heard you needed a ride. Going my way?”

  The sight of him causes more tears, and I rush toward him for a much-needed hug, but I halt in my tracks at the realization that I’ve been played. Sam. It wasn’t enough for him that Seth was leaving the country. Sam had to do his best to thwart my chances for any future. Enter Kevin.

  Still, I’m grateful for Kevin’s appearance. I’m so desperately tired. And last time I had jet lag, I inadvertently hit a police officer with my Prada bag and ended up in the slammer. So I’m taking this ride, knowing that at least now I won’t be headed for the pokey.

  “Aren’t you on call?” I ask him through the window.

  “I worked all night instead. I thought I might have missed you. I got the call on my pager, but didn’t check it until a half an hour ago. I guess Arin assumed I’d get the message.”

  Arin?

  “We should make a great pair then. Me with jet lag, you without sleep.”

  “We’ll stop for an espresso,” Kevin says as he gets out of the car.

  “Music to my ears. So how did you end up here?”

  Kevin takes my bag from me. “Well, Sam got held up so he called Arin, and Arin couldn’t do it, so Arin called me.”

  “Why didn’t he just call Kay?”

  “Something about a puppy and a torn rug. That’s all I know.” Kevin gets out of the car and opens the trunk, placing my bags in what little there is of a trunk. “I visited your puppy this week.”

  He opens the door for me, and I slide into what feels like a cockpit. “I appreciate this. Thanks, Kevin.”

  “You don’t sound like you appreciate it.” One eyebrow of his goes higher than the other, and I’m fascinated by his uncanny ability to mimic an actor’s look.

  I buckle my seat belt and stare straight ahead. “No, I really do appreciate it. It’s just that I had other ideas in my head. Expectations and all that. So why did you visit my puppy?”

  “One of my colleagues has this little cancer patient, and she loves dogs. Unfortunately, while she was in for chemo, her dog died at home. Her mom doesn’t want to tell her, so I brought Rhett in to keep her spirits up. I didn’t think you’d mind.”

  “No, not at all. Did she like Rhett?”

  “You should have seen it, Ashley. She loved Rhett, and Rhett didn’t want to leave her side. I think he’s a very intelligent dog, too, because he went sniffing right where her cancer incision was. It’s like he knows where she’s sick.”

  “No kidding?” I nod my head. “I knew he was a great dog.”

  “That’s a beautiful ring.” Kevin grabs my hand. “Did you get that in Taiwan?”

  I nod.

  “I was going to say, I think I’d remember that.”

  “You remember everything, like that I am on Atkins.”

  “You’re looking great, too. But it’s my job to remember. I couldn’t have gotten through med school without a memory. I remember everything, so be careful what you say. If, for example, you tell me those boots cost $400, don’t try and tell me later they were $200.”

  I lift my foot, laughing. “They’re knockoffs—$75.”

  “I didn’t know you had it in you to bargain hunt.” His smile is absolutely gorgeous. I find myself utterly entranced by his profile as I turn and face him in the car.

  “The secret is to never overwhelm with an outfit. You saw my Kenneth Cole suede jacket?”

  “I saw your suede. I’m not much of a tag reader.”

  “The designer jacket is the focus of today’s outfit. If I go buying Prada boots with the jacket, then I’m like saying, ‘Look at me’ instead of ‘Look at this great jacket, my focal point of the day.’ Like any great room, a great outfit should have a focal point.”

  Kevin’s gripping the steering wheel while he laughs. “It’s frightening how you say that like it’s the most normal theory in the entire world. No wonder you’re a lawyer, you have that ability to justify anything.”

  “Justify? I’m not justifying. I’m merely saying that today the jacket is the star of the show. Tomorrow, it might be my great new handbag from Taiwan.”

  He’s still laughing. I love how he laughs. It’s with his entire being, and the fact that he finds me so entertaining gives me a ripple of pleasure. My ego needed this today.

  “So are you ever going to write these fascinating theories down?”

  “Absolutely. If I could write a book about fashion overkill, I’d just be doing the world a favor. I mean, Paris Hilton? Complete fashion overkill on a daily basis. She’s got a great body, but let’s leave a bit to the imagination, you know? Overkill. Mariah Car
ey? Satin is just so over. And she needs to invest in some undergarments the world doesn’t see.”

  “Ashley, I have no idea who you’re talking about, but my world is so much bigger with you in it.” He ventures a look my way, and I see he’s not teasing me. He actually enjoys my ramblings on nothing. My mind started to wander. “Ashley, did you hear me?”

  “Huh?”

  “I asked you if you got the general counsel job.”

  “Oh no. At least not yet, but Hans and I got a lot done in Taiwan. I think we’re going to have a really solid team in Taipei. The better the engineers, the better the patents. The more foolproof.” I look out the window. “By the way, what were Arin and Sam doing that she was too busy to pick me up?” Seeing as how they don’t have jobs and you’re, like, a surgeon.

  “She’s packing to go to India. Apparently, she’s picturing herself the next Mother Teresa.”

  I gasp so deeply that poor Kevin thinks I’ve choked, and he whacks me on the back. Calm. Be calm. India is an enormous country. She probably won’t even see another Caucasian, much less Seth. “She’s leaving the country again?”

  “She needed to find a sponsor to join up with FoodVision, and she found one.”

  “Only one?”

  “Seth. I guess he’s paying for it from his trust.” He sees my face and shakes his head. “I’m sorry, Ashley. I assumed you knew.”

  My head is shaking of its own volition. “What trust?”

  “Seth’s trust fund.”

  “Seth’s trust. Where would Seth get a trust?”

  “I don’t know. He told Arin he’d pay for it from his trust. Actually, he announced it during Bible study last week. They both seemed happy about the arrangement.”

  His parents were missionaries in China. Where would he possibly get a trust? Unless, he invented it. I rub my temples. I wonder if there’s an award for being the most naive person on the planet? American Idiot.

  Kevin pulls the car off the freeway at nearly the first exit, and we drive into downtown Burlingame, a wealthy, elitist suburb of San Francisco. He stops the car in front of a small roasting company, and the aroma of coffee fills my senses. “Are you hungry?”