“I told you about all of that because I trusted you. I should have known you’d use that against me too.”
“I’m not using anything against you. I’m trying to talk some reason into you. I absolutely do not think you are the horrible person you think you are.”
“Do you know how many opportunities I had to get it over with?” he yelled. “The night, right here in this room, when you saw me going to the bathroom. The night on the deck, when you asked me to deflower you. In the hotel room in Utah, when I told you to go take a shower. The night on the beach, in Costa Rica—hell, the very next night—” He glared, his eyes stone cold. “It would have been done—just like you said. I could have saved us both a shitload of trouble.”
She met his lethal glare with confidence. “But you didn’t. You didn’t because that isn’t you. This man you want me to believe you are, doesn’t exist.”
Paul groaned and rolled his eyes again. “Give it up. You can’t make me believe that you don’t see me for what I am anymore. I know what I did, and I know what you did to get me to do it.”
“Do what, Paul? We consummated our marriage, we acted on the love we feel for each other. We made love.”
“That wasn’t making love, Rhees! I hurt you! You goaded me, and the real me, played right into your hands. I hurt you.”
“Yes—yes you did hurt me!” she snapped back. She saw his expression fall, and she regretted saying it, knowing he thought she’d just confirmed his opinion of himself, of what he’d done.
“The sex didn’t hurt—not any more than it ever does the first time—I think, but I loved it, because I love you, so very much. But the way you treated me, after. The things you said, you’re still saying. You’ve turned a beautiful moment into something dirty.” She choked up and had to pause to clear her throat. “That hurt a hundred times more than the sex.”
“There you go,” he said with a mocking laugh. How could she keep trying to call it anything else besides the truth? “Part of that is actually an honest observation. See? That’s what I keep trying to tell you. You do know the man I really am.”
“I see the man I love.”
Paul growled to demonstrate his exasperation, but he secretly felt relieved at how well she’d been keeping him worked up. He’d come dangerously close to giving in. Climbing into bed with her, holding her all night—it was all he really wanted to do for the rest of his life. He slipped his shoes on and walked to the door.
“You coming?”
oOo
Regina lay in her bed, watching Tracy, knowing her best friend didn’t want to be hearing the argument any more than she did. The walls were sheets of plywood nailed to the studs instead of sheetrock, two layers, and quite soundproof, so the exact words didn’t make it through, but they could make out the pain and accusation in both Paul and Rhees’ tones. They’d heard enough to be sad and concerned.
“We shouldn’t be here,” Tracy said when she heard the door close behind the unhappy couple. “They’re married now. They need their own place.”
“They should not be here,” Regina said. “Paul has his apartment. They should be living there now.”
Tracy nodded in agreement.
“Tracy,” Regina added. “You cannot be telling anybody about this. They do not need any busybody noses sticking on top of their business. It will only be making it worse.”
Again, Tracy nodded in agreement and didn’t bother to correct Regina’s English.
oOo
Paul and Rhees reached the shop in silence, but after Randy’s house—Miranda’s little store, instead of turning left onto the Plank, Rhees turned right, and headed toward Paul’s apartment across the street.
“Where’re you going?” Paul stopped and stared at her like she’d just asked him to take her on another shopping trip. She didn’t answer. He followed her to his door and watched with curiosity as she unlocked it, walked just inside, where she stood looking around.
“What are you looking for?”
She fired a glance at him that he didn’t understand and then climbed the ladder stairs to the loft. She stared at his bed for far too long and he finally figured out the problem.
“I slept on the couch . . . alone.”
She turned to look at him again, unconvinced.
“I haven’t been with anyone, except you—” he hated the reminder, “—since May.”
“What about Bathroom Girl, last night?” She climbed halfway down the ladder and sat on one of the rungs.
“Bathroom Girl?” It took a second to know who she referred to, but it became another confirmation that Rhees knew exactly what he was. “I met Ronnie at Oscar’s. She and her friends just got here from St. Martin. She wants to be a dive master. We talked about getting her trained, but she got flirty. I told her I was married, and left. I headed to the Starfish, and the next thing I knew, she’d followed me. I didn’t ask her to, I didn’t want her to.”
“You were going into the bathroom with her!” Rhees cried out.
“No! I wasn’t,” he yelled back.
“I saw you.”
“No, Rhees, you didn’t,” his voice faded to a quieter tone, “because I wasn’t going into the bathroom with her. I had a lot on my mind. I didn’t know she’d followed me until I got there. Suddenly, she was right next to me, asking where the nearest bathroom was. I told her my wife liked the one at the Starfish. It was right there, I opened the door for her—period.”
“Promise?”
He dropped his head back and looked up in aggravation. “I shouldn’t have to. I already made you a promise in front of a preacher and a whole group of witnesses. You know how I feel about breaking promises.” He walked to the door, opened it, and waited for her so they could get to work.
“And you weren’t drunk?”
“No.” He tilted his head and gave her an impatient look. “Not yet.”
oOo
Later that day, Bathroom Girl walked into the office while Rhees and Claire worked on their computers.
“Hi,” she said enthusiastically. “I’m looking for the infamous and very good-looking, Paul Weaver.”
Her accent sounded French.
“What do you want with him?” Rhees was surprised with Claire’s quick, condescending response.
“Could you tell him Ronnie is here? That’s short for Veronique. He’ll know who you are talking about. He told me I’d be a good fit for him—I mean, for his shop.” She grinned coyly, as if she’d innocently made the slip—by accident—on purpose. “He asked me to get my dive master here, and I would never refuse that man, anything.”
“Oh.” Rhees tried to smile as she stood to face the girl. “He’s busy right now, but I can get you registered.”
“No. I want to talk to him. I want him to register me.”
Claire stood too and rested her elbows on the counter. She reeked with intolerance for the slut on the other side. “We’re full right now, not taking new students at the moment.”
“No, Claire. Um, we had that cancellation, remember?” Rhees gave Claire a warning glance, to which Claire conceded. Rhees didn’t want Ronnie there any more than Claire, but they were running a business, a business that was now half hers. She needed to act like a professional, not a big, jealous baby. “We have a spot.”
“Paul’s busy,” Claire saved the conversation. “And very married.”
“He said that, but his wife was nowhere to be found, you know, when we spent the night together.” The harlot actually smirked. “Believe me. He’ll be happy to see me again.”
Rhees felt a stab in her heart. She would have been—should have been with him. The reason she hadn’t, stung. He couldn’t stand being around her anymore. Now, this woman stood, right in her face, making an innuendo about sleeping with Paul, her husband. He’d p
romised—no, he actually hadn’t promised when she’d asked about it just that morning. He’d only told her that he hadn’t been with anyone else since May. She wanted to believe him, but her insecurity rose up a notch or two.
“Well, like we said, Paul’s busy.” Claire glared at Ronnie. “He’ll just send you back here to us. We take care of all the registrations.”
Rhees grabbed the clipboard with the right paperwork and handed it to the girl. “Just fill this out and we’ll get you started.” She didn’t have it in her to force a smile this time.
“He’s very convincing. I’m eager to work with him. He seems like such a good diver,” Ronnie rambled on as she filled out the forms. “I’m sure he’s the best instructor on the island.”
“It’s amazing you could tell, just by talking to him, for how long?” Claire had read Rhees’ mind, but Claire actually said rude things out loud.
Ronnie waved her hands in the air with a laugh. “Well, he sounded like he knew what he was talking about, so self-assured, and good looking.”
“He’s married,” Claire said, again, dryly. Her expression matched Rhees’ when Ronnie actually shrugged, making it clear that it didn’t matter.
“I’m afraid Paul doesn’t actually teach the course.” Rhees had to clear her throat. “This shop is what some people call a dive college. He’s the owner. He supervises the training.”
“Oh. I was under the impression . . .” Ronnie looked up from her paperwork. She seemed disappointed, almost to the point of having second thoughts. “If he’s supervising, that means he’s here every day, right?”
“Yes, of course.” Rhees strained to sound enthusiastic. She didn’t want Ronnie around, and she wished she hadn’t been so quick to shut Claire’s rejection down—but a paying student.
“Okay, then,” Ronnie sounded too relieved as she handed the clipboard back to Rhees. “That’s all I need to work my magic.”
“Skank,” Claire said under her breath.
“What?” Ronnie asked.
“She said, um . . . thank . . . you,” Rhees tried to cover for Claire, “for filling out the form and joining us here at Paradise.”
Ronnie leaned over the counter and spoke in a hushed tone, “So, what’s the story with the wife? How stupid could she be? I mean, to let a man that fine, walk around unguarded.”
Claire reached over and took Rhees’ left hand, setting it on the counter to make sure Ronnie didn’t miss the ridiculously large diamond on her ring finger. Rhees never imagined she would love her gargantuan wedding ring as much as she did at that moment, or be so grateful, that because of her marital problems, she hadn’t been able to bring herself to put the large diamond section in the safe yet. She could have kissed Claire.
“Steer clear of Paul,” Claire said.
Ronnie looked the ring over and made a face that reflected respect, but to the ring, not necessarily the woman wearing it. She finally looked up at Rhees and checked her out from head to . . . as far down as she could see her behind the counter. When she finished scrutinizing Rhees, a strange glint flickered across her face, as if to say she didn’t think the competition too stiff.
“Good looking and rich,” she said, glaring at Rhees as if challenging her to a duel.
Rhees had been dealing with the occasional girl brazenly trying to steal Paul’s attention, right out from under her, since the first night he’d walked her home. Over time, Paul’s dedicated attention to only her had mostly cured her from worrying too much, but she worried now.
Rhees looked over the paperwork to make sure Ronnie hadn’t missed anything, at least she pretended to. Her concentration was shot and the writing was nothing but a blur. Ronnie extended her hand to Claire.
“I’m happy to meet you.”
“I’m Claire,” Rhees’ friend sneered, and then flashed Ronnie the phoniest smile Rhees had ever seen.
Ronnie turned to Rhees with her own fake smile, pretending not to know already. “And you are?”
“Rhees.”
“Mrs. Weaver.” Claire made it clear to the new girl. “Mrs. Paul Weaver.”
“Nice to meet you.” Ronnie’s insincere voice and smile didn’t falter as she reached for Rhees’ hand. Rhees hesitated before reciprocating, and Ronnie held her hand longer than necessary, sizing her up again.
“That girl is trouble,” Claire said when Ronnie walked out. “Watch your back.”
“It’s not my back I’m worried about.” Rhees knew Paul would never agree to lock himself in his room for the next few weeks. She could never ask him to, being the only person he’d ever confided in about his childhood.
oOo
Rhees waited that evening while Paul found a hundred unnecessary things to do to prolong leaving the shop, as if he dreaded having to finally face her. He’d avoided her all day, again, so she determined she’d stop trying to get him to talk about it, hoping he’d finally relax and come around. She didn’t know if it would work, but chasing him around wasn’t working, attempting to catch him long enough to make him talk it out, thinking that she could finally say the right words, in the right way, that would make it all better.
Her stomach churned, her nerves were frazzled, she was shaky, and it reminded her of the dance club performances in high school. She finally got tired of waiting for him to avoid her any longer.
“Can this wait until tomorrow?” She wasn’t hungry at all, but she knew he had to be. Hunger and Paul didn’t mix well. “Dinner takes forever. We should get going, don’t you think?”
She saw him wince. He hated the sound of her voice now too, apparently. He put his hands on his hips and avoided eye contact.
“Mitch and Shanni are meeting up with us at Jungo’s for dinner. It’s just down the road so I thought we’d wait, and head from here.”
“Oh.” It would have been nice to know that earlier. He must have seen the concern on her face.
“You look fine. You can shower after dinner.”
But Jungo’s is one of the nicer restaurants on the island, she thought. She was going to feel out of place in her shorts and T-shirt over a swimming suit, but she held firm to her new resolve. She wasn’t about to push him on anything until he finally stopped acting like he was about to crawl out of his skin around her. She sat down on the bench in the gazebo, pulled the brush out of her pack, and started to work on her dive hair.
“I said you look fine.” His voice sounded gentler than the crusty grumbling he’d been giving her lately. His eyes looked softer too, regretful, if she wasn’t mistaken. “You’re beautiful . . . as always.”
She stopped brushing and paused for a second before tucking the brush back into her pack. Those simple words were the best interaction she’d had with him since he’d crawled into her bed and pulled her into his arms the night before.
“Shall we go?” he asked as he held his hand out to her. She hesitated, wondering, afraid of assuming the gesture meant more than it did. She took his hand and he pulled, helping her up from the bench, and leaving them looking into each other’s eyes when she stood. The moment of silence seemed to last a very long time as each of them searched for something from the other.
“Shall we go?” he finally asked again, and she nodded.
oOo
Rhees had only eaten at the restaurant once before, when it had been just the two of them, Paul and her. Tucked back in the jungle, Jungo’s sat off and away from town, accessed only by a hundred and fifty-yard meandering path. The decor reminded Rhees of the Emerald Starfish, the way it had been built around a theme. The walls were made to look like they were hewn from rock, giving it a cave-like feeling with a grass hut-style roof. There was no breeze, but all the vegetation and shade kept it cool.
It didn’t take long for her to understand why they were having dinner with Mitch and Shanni. The whole thing
felt too convenient. Dinner with Paul’s friends was his shield against her, a successful attempt to fill in the time they might otherwise use to rehash their problems.
Paul engaged Mitch in conversation all night, out of character for him, the best listener in the world, but every time the conversation started to move toward more recent times, Paul was the one to take it back to pre-Rhees. Shanni piped in every now and then, having hooked up with Mitch sometime during the two men’s friendship, but Rhees had nothing to add to the reminiscing of their shared past. She could do nothing but listen with a smile.
Mitch had been Paul’s friend for years and they’d all come to the island together. Ginger had been part of their foursome when they first arrived, but she left shortly after. She was the subject of most of their stories, and one after another, they laughed at all the incredible, problematic situations she’d gotten them into.
Rhees had heard the name before, but didn’t know much about her before hearing the shocking stories that night. Shanni never once attempted to show anything but disdain for their former traveling companion, so it surprised Rhees to find out that Ginger was Mitch’s cousin. That helped her understand the fondness in Mitch’s tone regarding the family member, but she didn’t understand Paul’s apparent fondness for the eccentric, possibly mentally unstable, teetering on sociopathic, woman, leaving Rhees to feel a little threatened by the past Paul and Ginger had shared.
Rhees felt herself deflate even more when Ronnie and two other unfamiliar girls walked into the restaurant during dessert. Rhees brooded as she watched Ronnie so obviously staring at Paul for the next twenty minutes until the check came. She’d noticed Paul glance over at Ronnie a few times, but only with his scowly eyes, which gave Rhees a little confidence, but not enough.
“Take Rhees home for me,” Paul said as he grabbed the check and slipped his credit card inside the folder. “Ronnie said she’s been trying to convince her friends to sign up with Paradise. I’m going to go talk to them for a few minutes. Maybe I can convince them.”
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