Damaged Goods

by Jennifer Bardsley

  Cal’s torso appears diminished next to his son’s. I wish Cal would put his shirt on. Actually, I wish both of them would put their shirts on. Seth looks like he’s spent every last minute of our thirteen-day breakup lifting weights at the gym. He wears dark sunglasses, so I can’t see his expression when I walk up. But he probably notices my inadvertent glance at the Tiffany tattoo scribbled on his side.

  “Isn’t this nice?” says Cal when I’m settled in my chair. “All of us together on vacation.”

  “Mmm,” Pilar murmurs. “Wonderful.”

  I take a sip of punch. Chunks of coconut float in ice, and the taste is pure heaven.

  “Blanca,” Cal asks, “are you wearing sunscreen?”

  “On my face.”

  “Not good enough.” He hands Seth the bottle. “Make sure to get her back.”

  Seth mouths, You still haven’t told him we broke up?

  You do it.

  “Blanca,” Cal shields his face from the sun and stares out at the ocean, “sunscreen isn’t optional.”

  “I thought you said I was old enough to make my own decisions.”

  “Of course you are, sweetheart. But we couldn’t have the face of McNeal Solar be sunburned, now could we?”

  “Fine,” I grumble. I pull the dress over my head and throw it down next to me.

  “Oh, my God!” Seth gasps.

  “What?” Pilar startles. “Is somebody hurt?”

  “No.” Seth lifts up his sunglasses.

  “Blanca!” Cal’s voice is full of emotion. “You’re wearing color.”

  “Yes. So?” I turn around so they won’t see me blush. My face gets even hotter when I feel Seth’s hands rub against my back. I close my eyes and focus on images that will make the blush go away. Steamed tilapia. Gluten free porridge. Ms. Corina. Alan driving the limo. Latin conjugates.

  Seth’s hands are on my arms now, rubbing down my perfect skin. My spine tingles with pleasure. It takes all my resolve to pull my arm away. “Hey,” I say, “I can do that part myself.”

  “Fine,” Seth mutters and hands me the sunscreen.

  “Is that my former girlfriend in color?” I hear someone call. I look over to see Trevor and Sarah walk up the beach, hand in hand. Sarah’s gray hair is pulled into a high ponytail that looks cute with her white tankini.

  Beau’s brothers, Ryan and Zach, bound up the beach behind them. “Check out Blanca,” says Ryan. “Damn, girl.”

  “I’m going to swim.” Seth throws his sunglasses down and stalks off into the waves.

  “Too bad you’re dating a Virus,” Zach says as he motions at Seth’s backside with his thumb.

  “I’m not,” I announce. “Seth and I broke up last week.”

  “What?” Cal sits up straight. “Why didn’t anyone tell me?”

  “I don’t know,” I mumble. “Maybe because saying it out loud makes it real.”

  “Trevor’s taken,” Sarah snaps.

  “I know.” I wrinkle my nose.

  “We’re not.” Zach flexes his muscles.

  “And we’re a whole lot of fun,” adds Ryan.

  Butterflies overtake my stomach. The type that make me want to throw up.

  “Get the flippers, Zach,” says Ryan. “We’re teaching this woman how to snorkel.”

  Zach reaches down and pulls me off the lounge chair. “I hope you know how to blow.”

  After dinner, Cal, Alberto, Beau, and the rest of the men take off with cigars for another part of the island. I can’t say I’m sorry to see Ryan and Zach go with them. I’ve spent all day smothered by attention. But I’m surprised Seth chooses to follow. “I didn’t know you smoked,” I tell him.

  “Bleh. No way. I’m just succumbing to peer pressure.” He winks before he leaves.

  I don’t think it’s very funny. Especially when the only two people left are me and Sarah because Pilar has already rushed Fatima off to bed for her last night of beauty sleep before becoming a married woman.

  Sarah takes one look at me and screws up her face. “Um, I better go wash my hair.”

  I hum the “Citrus Sunshine” jingle from her last commercial as she leaves. That probably won’t help our relationship any.

  But there are worse places to be alone than on a Polynesian beach. The breeze is warm against my face. Plumeria tucked behind my ear gives everything a sweet, soft fragrance. The moonlight sparkles on the water. I spin around on the sand and my dress twirls around me. I reach my hands out wide like they could stretch out across the whole island.

  “Lovely, isn’t it?” A deep voice interrupts my revelry.

  I come to a halt and immediately feel foolish.

  In front of me stands Captain Lin, the pilot of our private jet. His dark black hair falls forward, slightly askew. The legs of his uniform are cuffed, his feet ankle deep in the ocean. “Your mother loved this island too.”

  “My mother? You knew her?” I peek for the workers behind me, clearing off the tables. But everything is gone. I’m completely alone with a strange man.

  “Yes.” Captain Lin nods. “For years.”

  I dig my feet deeper into the sand. “But I thought you flew the McNeal Solar jet.”

  “I do. At the moment.”

  The McNeal Solar HR department needs a seriously better screening protocol. But that’s not particularly helpful now.

  “This afternoon, you looked like a younger version of your mother in that bathing suit,” Captain Lin says.

  I feel goose bumps. Every instinct I have tells me to escape, but the buildings are too far away. I’d never outrun him.

  Maybe I could throw sand in his eyes. I could stay and fight!

  Or maybe, something whispers from deep inside my soul, you could play this straight by the book. Controlling people is easier than you’d think, I hear Barbelo say. Speak their name softly, melodically.

  I adjust the flower behind my ear. “Captain Lin, it’s so nice of you to mention my mother. I cherish every bit of information people share about her.” A little appreciation goes a long way.

  “I could talk about Lydia all day.” Captain Lin traces the sand with his toe.

  “I’d also like to hear about you.” I coil my shell necklace around my fingers. People love to talk about themselves.

  “Me?” Captain Lin answers. “There’s nothing much to tell.”

  I beam my most friendly smile. “I highly doubt that. Were you a Vestal?”

  Captain Lin laughs. “No, not me.” He holds out his hands and shows me his finger-chips. “The only bad thing about this island is that these don’t work.”

  Neither does my chip-watch. There’s no way I can call for help.

  “Are you a Guardian?” My words are slow and measured.

  “What’s that? Oh, you mean the Chinese Vestals. No. I was born and raised in San Jose.”

  Is he telling the truth? I can’t tell for sure. Keung all but said he had other people working for McNeal Solar. Captain Lin might be under orders to keep mum.

  If Keung planned this, maybe this situation isn’t as dangerous as it seems. Maybe Captain Lin isn’t a psycho killer. Maybe he’s here to keep me safe.

  Still, I’m taking no chances.

  “How did you meet my mother?” Clarifying questions are your friends.

  “She flew all over the world. But of course you probably knew that.”

  I nod. My mother was Barbelo’s representative when he sold or acquired important secrets for the Vestal archives. She was second-in-command.

  “I worked at a company that offered jet-for-hire services. Lydia brought important clients here several times a year. She always requested me because we were friends.” Captain Lin sighs deeply. “But sometimes she’d come on vacation too. I taught your mother to copilot.”

  “Really?” I try to picture my mother in the cockpit, aviator sunglasses on her heart-shaped face. “Was she a good student?”

  “The best.” Captain
Lin looks at me sideways. “I didn’t see her much after she began dating Mr. McNeal. She’s the one who suggested I work for McNeal Solar.”

  I swallow hard. “I’m sure she valued your loyalty.”

  “I like to think so.” His voice is as soft as the Polynesian breeze.

  Holy crap! I got this all wrong. I don’t need flight or fight. Captain Lin isn’t a threat to me. He misses my mother because they were friends.

  I pull the plumeria from my ear and toss it into the waves. “When’s the last time you saw her?”

  “I flew her to DC and back about a month before she moved in with Mr. McNeal.” Captain Lin looks out at the water as the flower floats away. “After that I never saw her again.”

  “But you decided to come work for McNeal Solar anyway? After she died?”

  Captain Lin shrugs. “You got to pay the bills, right?”

  “Yes,” I say on the outside.

  On the inside, a little voice whispers, something doesn’t add up.

  But what?

  I’ve been awake for hours, listening to the sound of the ocean, and second guessing everything I ever knew.

  Vestals are the only people you can trust, they told me at Tabula Rasa.

  Never listen to anything Headmaster Russell says ever again, Cal told me. You’ve got good instincts. You can think for yourself.

  I’m sorry if I frightened you, said Keung. That wasn’t my intention at all.

  We need each other, insisted Jeremy. Together we can rebuild our lives.

  I wasn’t trying to hurt you, said Seth before he broke my heart.

  The sick part is all of those voices in my head that confuse me—they’re all male. There aren’t any female voices giving me wisdom.

  What did my supposed mother teach me? Nothing.

  What did Ms. Corina teach me? How to smile.

  I don’t know how Cal could possibly think I’m ready for college. I can’t even have a normal conversation with someone on the beach without assuming he’s a psychopath stalker.

  But what if Captain Lin is a spy? What if he really works for Keung and has orders to keep tabs on me?

  I squeeze my eyes shut and will sleep to come. All I hear is the static of my brain on high alert.

  Then I hear shuffling at my door.

  “Blanca,” a low voice moans. “Blanca, it’s me.” The person outside fumbles with the handle.

  I spring out of the covers and rush to the door, my white cotton nightgown flowing behind me. I’d recognize that voice anywhere.

  “Blanca?” Seth mumbles through the lock. “Are you there?

  My hand hovers over the doorknob while I unlock the dead bolt. “I’m here.” I throw the door open wide.

  “Great.” Seth’s breath stinks of alcohol. “Because I can’t find my room.” He stumbles a few steps toward me, and then crashes down face first on my bed.

  By the time I shut the door, Seth’s snoring.

  The sheets are cool and silky, but Seth’s body emanates heat like a furnace. When I wake up at dawn, hot and sticky, I turn the air-conditioning on high. By the time I climb back in bed, Seth has claimed the entire thing. For the past few hours I at least had a pillow and a narrow place to stretch out straight. Now I’d have to be a contortionist to lie on the bed.

  Seth reeks like the bottom of a garbage can. Cigar smoke and rum make a nasty combination.

  I’d be better off sleeping on the ladder-back chair in the corner.

  Except … the way Seth’s hair sticks up every which way around his head makes me think of our first conversation, while he was stuck in jail for sneaking my picture. He had the dirty gleam of sweat on him then too. I thought Seth was horrible. Disgusting and cruel. But after I got to know him, I realized he was smart, brave, and fiercely loyal. And so much fun. Unlike me.

  Seth gave me my first taste of pure happiness.

  Now, I don’t know what to believe.

  I climb into the bamboo chair and wrap my arms around my knees. In the small light of dawn I can decipher the McNeal family sun tattoo, next to the angel for Sophia inked on Seth’s arm.

  Cal and Sophia, the two good parents. I never got the chance to meet Sophia, but Cal has changed my whole life.

  There’s nothing you could ever do or say that would make me stop loving you, Cal said to me. That’s what it means to be a father.

  That’s the only message running around in my brain that I know for sure is the truth.

  I want to be able to love like that. Unconditionally and with total trust.

  I watch Seth sleep, his face completely at peace. His five o’clock shadow makes him look like a pirate.

  Could Seth love unconditionally like his father? Could he love me no matter what crazy Vestal situation I brought down on him next?

  Or could I love Seth, finger-chips and all?

  If he took my picture while I was brushing my teeth, would I still love him? No matter what?

  Or what if it was altogether worse? If Seth took a video of us making love and uploaded it straight to Veritas Rex, what would I do? Could I forgive him?

  I’m messed up to think that. Seth would never do something so deplorable. He wouldn’t betray me in such a horrible way. What’s wrong with me that my mind always jumps to the worst?

  It’s like I’m playing Questions with myself. But there’s no Dr. Meredith or support group of Defectos to offer the answers.

  What do I really want?

  Seth, my heart whispers. I want Seth.

  But my head tells me a stronger message. Healing, it shouts. I want to be whole.

  And in the glimmering stillness of morning, I see opportunity.

  Maybe my heart and head both want the same things.

  I lightly step over to the bed and push Seth’s sleeping form to the side. Then I climb under the covers next to him.

  “Blanca,” Seth murmurs sleepily. His arm wraps around me and pulls me in tight. “I love you,” he says with a voice half drunk.

  “I love you too,” I whisper. Then I snuggle up close to his side and fall asleep.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  When I wake up, Seth is gone. I pat the bed wildly and reach for him before I’m fully awake. But once I open my eyes, I see that his side is empty. The air conditioner clicks on and the coolness turns frigid.

  I lie back into the pillows and stare up at the ceiling fan, collecting my thoughts. But Fatima interrupts my meditation when she bounds into the room and piles into bed next to me.

  “Why wasn’t your door locked?” Fatima’s wet hair drips over her fluffy white bathrobe. “And why are you still in bed? It’s almost ten!”

  “What?” I rub my eyes. “I had a hard time falling asleep last night.”

  “Well, get your butt into the shower, missy. It’s time to get ready for my wedding.”

  “I haven’t had breakfast,” I object.

  “I’ll have the kitchen send over some sushi.”

  “Aren’t there any croissants?”

  “Pastries! Are you crazy? Vestals don’t eat—” Fatima closes her mouth with her hand. “Oh. Never mind.”

  “Sushi will be fine,” I grumble. “I’ll see you in your room in twenty minutes.”

  I pad over to the bathroom and shut the door behind me with a sharp click. With my pale skin and long cotton nightgown, I look like a ghost from an ancient era. But my brown hair is soft and wavy, and the slight pink of my cheeks is a pretty color. At least when Seth woke up and left me, I didn’t look like a hideous hag.

  I turn the faucet on in the shower to warm the water up and then come back to the sink for a fresh bar of soap. There, underneath the complimentary tray of toiletries, I find a note in Seth’s slashing scrawl. “Sorry for last night,” it says. “I must have been rude.”

  Instead of signing his name, Seth left the initials VR.

  I crumple up the paper and toss it into the trash.

  It’s an all-whi
te wedding. I stare out the window of the bridal room and watch the men gather on the sand in front of the flowered altar. When I see Seth barefoot in the sand, freshly shaved and with his hair slicked back, I feel my heart lurch. It’s like looking at Seth transformed into a Vestal. The living, breathing flesh of a dream come true. The side of Seth’s face with the lion-headed cobra is turned away. All I see is his profile, the un-inked skin of a gorgeous man in white. Then Seth turns his face toward me, and I read his discomfort. He tugs on his collar and shifts positions.

  I don’t know who convinced Seth to wear that suit, but it mustn’t have been easy.

  Cal, tanned and smiling, was probably a cinch for Pilar. Cal looks handsome in white and completely at ease. I watch him shake Alberto’s hand and chat with Richard and Beau.

  “Are they ready?” Fatima whispers.

  I pull my head away from the window. “They’re all set. Let me take one more look at you.”

  Fatima wears a silk dress with a crêpe sash tied around the empire waist. The fabric across the top of the gown is gathered to show off her impressive décolletage.

  “Stunning.” Pilar adjusts the tiara of orchids that are pinned into Fatima’s elaborate updo. “Aye, mijiha. I can’t believe this day is here so soon.” Pilar’s face melts, and she rapidly fans away tears with her hands.

  “Mami,” Fatima cautions, “your makeup!”

  “I don’t care!”

  I hurriedly hand Pilar a tissue.

  “Thank you.” Pilar blots away tears under her eyes and looks at Fatima. “First it’s your wedding; next it’ll be your baby. I don’t think I can do this.”

  “What do you mean, Mami?”

  Pilar clasps Fatima’s hands tightly. “I don’t think I can leave you. When my contract is up next year, I’ll find a way to extend it.”

  “Mami! You can’t.”

  “I’ve waited my whole life to have a daughter,” Pilar says. “And now I get to have a grandbaby too. I can’t give either of you up.”