by BETH KERY
“Sorry,” she said, perplexed by his slightly stunned expression.
“It’s okay,” he said, hitching the equipment bag higher on his shoulder. “It’s just …”
“What?” Alice asked, sensing his disquiet.
“I’ve thought about it before,” he said. He glanced at her uneasily. “Being a teacher. A coach, too. I thought about that even more than being a fisherman,” he added jokingly.
Even in the shaded woods, she saw his face deepen in color at his admission.
“Why don’t you?” she asked in a rush. “You’d be so good at it.”
His smile looked a little strained. He shook his head.
“What?” she prodded, confused.
“It’s not what Schaefers do.”
“Schaefers? Like your mom and dad, you mean? Your aunts and uncles and cousins?” She already knew Thad was an only child. “What does it matter what they do? We’re talking about you.”
He shook his head again. “I went to school for business. A Yale MBA isn’t cheap, you know. I can’t just trash it all on a whim.”
“The idea of being a teacher is a whim? Is that you talking? Or your dad?” she asked slowly.
His green eyes flashed at her. Alice bowed her head, recognizing she’d come on too strong. As usual. Neither of them spoke for a stretched moment. Birds twittered in the trees and the leaves rustled in the gentle wind. A thought occurred to her and she gave a bark of laughter.
“What?” he asked.
“It’s weird,” she said impulsively. “I’ve been thinking of myself as the loser here.” She noticed his dark scowl and flagging step and knew she’d misspoken again. “Not that I am—or you are—or anything. I’m just talking about irrational insecurities. Because I didn’t grow up like you or Brooke or Dave did, I’ve been feeling like I’m constantly running uphill while you guys fly effortlessly. But all of those advantages I’ve been thinking you guys had over me … they can just as easily be disadvantages, too. Right?” she asked desperately, searching his expression. It took her a second to realize they’d stopped and were facing each other.
“Yeah. You’re right,” he said soberly after a moment. “You have no idea how hard it is to live up to my father’s expectations. It’s like some kind of impossible dream, one I know I’ll never succeed at, but can’t seem to help trying to make reality anyway. It’s like a habit I can’t quit.”
Compassion swept through her. Her lips twitched into a smile and she resumed walking. “At least now you know. That it’s a disadvantage, I mean—your concern about doing what your parents want when it comes to the idea of being a teacher. It’s better to realize what you’re fighting, isn’t it? To know what’s holding you back instead of …”
She shrugged, fading off. He looked at her inquiringly.
“Just accepting it,” she finished.
“I’ll never be a teacher, Alice.”
“Yeah, well … I never thought Durand would look at me twice as a potential executive. Life is a funny thing,” she said, trying to lighten his mood.
I never thought Dylan Fall would look at me twice, either. Yeah. Damn funny thing, life.
She tamped down the thought, focusing on Thad. She felt guilty for making him so serious all of a sudden. A little sad. How horrible, to want to do one thing with your life, but doing something else because it was expected of you. Sissy and her uncles had no expectations or aspirations for Alice whatsoever. She’d never realized that was a kind of freedom until now.
Thad’s expression darkened as he peered ahead of them fixedly. Her concern swelled.
“Did you know that Durand did security screenings on us even before the interview? Even before we were hired as counselors?” she blurted out, eager to change the topic … to erase his uncharacteristic oppression.
He frowned. “I don’t think that’s legal, is it?”
“I don’t know, but they did it,” she said with grim finality.
“How do you know?” Thad asked.
She shifted the mesh bag of vests she carried, buying some time while she thought up a viable explanation.
“From something Maggie, my grad school advisor, told me,” she said vaguely. Poor Maggie. She was being used as the scapegoat not only for Dylan’s lies, but her own.
Thad grunted and shrugged. “Durand can be a little Machiavellian. The corporate world can be. I guess I’m not shocked.”
“You mean you think the company is manipulative? Dishonest?” she asked, concerned.
“No. Not really,” he admitted. “Just ruthless. Highly discerning. That’s no surprise, surely. Lots of big businesses are. Fall certainly is.”
“You think Dylan Fall is ruthless?”
“Well … like I said. Highly discerning. I didn’t mean it in a bad way, Alice. He’s a legend in the business world, a fine example of capitalism at work. It’s the American way, right? I would have thought you didn’t mind, when it comes to Fall.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Alice demanded.
“Nothing,” Thad said, his casual shrug and sharp stare at odds. “It just seems like you two are on the same wavelength. You’re the only one who was hired by the CEO personally. And you two seemed—friendly at the castle dinner.”
“Because he showed me how to get from the bathroom to the party, we’re suddenly best friends?” she scoffed uneasily. “I hardly know anything about him.”
“Then you aren’t so different from the rest of us,” Thad said.
“How did he become CEO of Durand at such a young age?” Alice couldn’t stop herself from asking, despite Thad’s reply. Surely someone with Thad’s affluent upbringing and background had some inside information—more than she would, anyway. Thad’s pace slowed, and he eventually stopped. So did she. The edge of the forest was just feet ahead, a distant cabin roof coming into view. Maybe Thad thought they shouldn’t have this conversation about Fall in the open air near the camp?
“I thought he was related to the founder and owner, Alan Durand. Or his wife,” Thad said.
Alice nodded. That had been her vague impression, too. “It’s funny, but there isn’t much backstory available about Durand or Fall. I had to do a lot of research for the philanthropy and profit article we wrote, but the details about Fall’s rise are murky. But you sound certain Fall isn’t related to the Durands?” she probed.
Thad gave her an amused, knowing glance. “I guess not. According to Kehoe, the Durands didn’t have a family heir.”
“What else did Kehoe say about Fall?” Alice asked slowly. She’d remained cautious in her dealings with the vice president of human resources. He always seemed friendly enough to her, but she sensed his sharp observance, his continued vague suspicion about her presence at Camp Durand. He suspected something about Dylan’s insistence upon hiring her. Perhaps she felt a little guilty in her dealings with Kehoe, too. She really had “taken up” with Dylan Fall, after all, and confirmed all Kehoe’s suspicions. A flickering of doubt went through her at her promise to meet Fall again tonight, despite her overwhelming desire to do so.
Had Dylan just hired her because he was so attracted to her? And why hadn’t she been dwelling on that disturbing thought all day?
Because you’ve been too busy melting at the memories of him … craving more of him.
She pushed the volatile thoughts aside.
“Dave mentioned something on the first day that we were here about Fall being a Durand relative,” Thad explained in a muted tone. “He wasn’t saying it to Kehoe, but Kehoe overheard him … and he made a point of correcting Dave. A major point.”
“What’d Kehoe say?”
Thad threw a cautionary glance toward the camp. “Kehoe sort of barked out from across the main lodge meeting room that Dylan was no relative to Alan Durand or his wife. It sort of flustered Dave, because Kehoe was so sharp. Dave said he’d thought he’d read Fall was a relative somewhere, and Kehoe snapped at him again. Us, actually. All of us sitting there. He said that it
was time we all learned that sometimes, people got into positions not because of what they knew, but who they knew … and he said that Fall had one sure talent: how to ingratiate himself with the powers that be,” Thad said in a hushed, confidential tone.
“The Durands?” Alice whispered, her heart starting to pound in her ears.
Thad nodded.
“But haven’t Alan Durand and his wife been dead for years?” she asked. “If what Kehoe said was true, Fall would have had to be a kid when he ‘ingratiated’ himself with the couple,” she mumbled, thinking furiously. Had Dylan become a favorite of the Durands when he was a teenage camper at their charitable organization? She hadn’t told anyone—even Thad or Kuvi—what Fall had told her about being a vulnerable child at Camp Durand. She didn’t think it was her place to expose what he’d told her in private.
Or maybe Fall’s vulnerability about his past felt a lot like her own, and she’d protected it instinctively.
“I’m not sure when they passed away exactly, or how Fall knew them,” Thad said quietly. “But I think Alan Durand lived longer than his wife, even though he was supposed to be weak and a sort of invalid for years. He certainly left his stamp on his company, though. Fall is hamstrung in his daily operations as CEO by the detailed operatives and the extensive trust document that rules all of Durand’s finances.”
“But I understood that Fall actually owns a good portion of Durand shares.”
“But not the majority,” Thad said. “The majority is held by the trust.”
Alice mulled this over as Thad glanced toward the camp. “Here comes Dave,” he said, frowning slightly.
“Oh … yeah,” Alice said distractedly, resuming walking.
“Alice.”
She paused and looked back at Thad. His expression was serious again.
“Thanks. For those things you said. I really have been accepting it as a given that my parents’ expectations for my life are more important than mine. I’m not saying I’m going to change my plans—this opportunity with Durand is too good to pass up—but it helped to hear you say that. To realize I have a choice. You’re really easy to talk to,” he said quietly.
She smiled and shrugged, embarrassed. “Sometimes, it just helps to hear yourself say it out loud.”
What would Kuvi or Dave or Thad say if she told them about how she’d spent last night? She scowled slightly at the judgey-sounding voice in her head. Still—there was no doubt about it. Her impulsivity when it came to Dylan Fall—her oddly intense obsession with him—could crash down on her at any moment given these circumstances. Most people would question Fall’s ethics in sleeping with her in this situation. They’d certainly question her judgment. What if Kehoe found out? She was being stupid. She was letting her guard down, something Alice just didn’t do.
But for some reason, it felt nothing but right when Dylan touched her—
“I’d like to be able to talk with you more,” Thad said, interrupting her thoughts and taking a step toward her. Alice’s heart jumped. “Alone. In private,” he added tensely.
“I thought you guys got lost in the woods,” Dave said dryly, approaching them. Alice took a step back. “Our teams have dinner duty,” he reminded Thad. “If you want to shower first, you better now.”
“Yeah. Okay,” Thad said distractedly, dragging his gaze off Alice’s face. “See you later,” he told her pointedly before he jogged toward his cabin.
“Do you want me to take that stuff?” Dave asked her in a friendly fashion, waving at the scrimmage vests. “The equipment storage is close to our cabin.”
“That’s okay, but thanks. I can do it.”
Dave tilted his head in the direction Thad had just taken. “Sorry for barging in on you two,” he said quietly. “I figured Thad had forgotten about dinner duty. He tends to forget about a lot of things when you’re around,” he said with a smile.
“It’s not a problem at all,” she assured, eager to correct his misunderstanding. “We were just talking.”
Dave’s look was a little too knowing for her liking. “Kuvi mentioned you being away from your cabin last night.” Alice’s stomach dropped. “Don’t worry,” Dave said quickly, obviously interpreting her alarmed expression. “Kuvi and I can keep a secret. It was just by chance that we realized we were both in the same situation. That’s the only reason we talked about it.”
“What situation?” Alice asked numbly, confused.
“We’re the roommates who have roommates that are …” Dave rolled his hand in a circular motion as if he wasn’t going to condescend to state the obvious. Alice wished he would write it down for her, because she had no idea what he was talking about. “I was the one who mentioned it to Kuvi first—about Thad being away most of the night from our cabin. Then she told me about you, and it all made sense. Kuvi normally wouldn’t have said anything, if we hadn’t had that in common. And don’t worry,” he mimed locking his lips together and flinging away the key. “Your secret is safe. I approve of Thad’s taste—for once. Like I said, privacy is a rare commodity around here. We’ve got to help each other protect it, right?”
“Dave, I don’t think you—”
Someone shouted Dave’s name. He turned and waved. “Gotta go. See you at dinner,” he said, jogging down the path and leaving Alice utterly bewildered how to proceed with this new complication in her life.
THAT night, Alice talked the kids into a fun game of Pictionary despite Terrance’s insistence that they tell more ghost stories. Given what had happened to her last night at the castle, she thought she’d heard enough ghost stories for now. Crystal had worried about the kids having nightmares. Little had she known that she’d be the one waking up in the midst of a nightmare, she thought with self-disgust. Somewhere in the midst of the rowdy game of Pictionary, Alice fortified herself and made a decision.
She wasn’t going to meet Dylan tonight in the woods. She was overwhelmed by everything that was happening to her.
What she needed was some time and space to figure it all out.
Her decision left an uncomfortable ache in the vicinity of her chest as she left the Red Team’s cabin that night. Muted pink and lavender light still clung in the western sky. She immediately spied Thad and Brooke standing at an intersection in one of the camp paths. Thad looked around as Alice closed the screen door behind her, as if he’d been expecting her. He took a half step back, and Brooke took a full step toward him, her gaze fixed on his face. She spoke quietly. For once, Brooke didn’t look like a bitch. Maybe it was a trick of the fading light, but instead, she looked anxious. Thad turned back to her and said something Alice couldn’t hear.
Feeling like an intruder, Alice hastened in the direction of her cabin. She felt jumpy and vaguely nauseated. Dylan would be waiting for her in the woods in half an hour. It pained her, to think of him waiting there alone.
Her body felt itchy. Restless. She wasn’t sure she could ever rest, remembering their lovemaking last night, reliving the things he’d done to her … the things she’d loved, knowing every second she was depriving herself of all that.
Great. It’d taken her nearly twenty-four years to discover she was a nymphomaniac.
She recalled all too well that strange incident in the castle’s hallway, too.
A nymphomaniac who’s prone to nightmares—
“Alice.”
She braced herself at the sound of tapping tennis shoes on the path and Thad’s voice. She turned. Behind Thad’s shoulder, she saw Brooke watching them. At Alice’s stare, Brooke spun around and walked in the opposite direction on the path.
“Hey,” Thad said, coming to a stop a few feet away. He grinned. “I was waiting for you to come out.”
“And Brooke was waiting for you?” Alice asked with a small smile.
Where had Thad spent last night? It’s none of your business, she chided herself. It wasn’t like she didn’t have some secrets of her own. Besides, knowing Thad, he’d snuck out on one of the fishing boats and fallen asleep whil
e the waves rocked him. She’d come to learn he loved boating and the water. He hadn’t been kidding that first day about considering becoming a fisherman.
Thad shrugged, looking vaguely embarrassed. And very handsome in a pair of jeans and a white sports shirt that set off his even tan and green eyes.
“She wants something that isn’t real,” Thad said, nodding in the direction where Brooke had just stood.
“You mean the blue-blood scion of the Schaefer dynasty?”
“Yeah. Unlike you, she doesn’t seem to realize that identity is phony.”
“I don’t think it’s phony,” Alice protested. “You’re as much of a gentleman aristocrat as anyone I’ve ever met.”
He laughed and touched her arm with light fingertips. She swallowed uneasily and glanced away. Things would be so much easier if she was crazily attracted to Thad, and not the CEO of Durand Enterprises.
“Do you want to take a walk?”
“Where?” Alice asked, glancing uneasily in the direction of the woods where she’d told Dylan she’d meet him at nine thirty. The woods had already fallen dark. Surely he wasn’t in there yet.
Thad looked vaguely bemused by her pointed question.
“I don’t know. On the beach?” he asked.
“Yeah. Okay,” Alice said stepping away from his touch. Thad was nice and sweet, but she liked him as a friend. If it weren’t for Dylan dominating her thoughts, maybe there would have been a chance. Maybe. But it was time she put a halt to Thad’s romantic interests, before things got out of hand, and she ruined their friendship for good. Alice didn’t want to lead him on, especially when she was so emotionally confused.
They headed for the beach, in the opposite direction of the thick woods. Would Dylan be angry at her for not showing up? Worried? Well she couldn’t help that. Both of them knew they were behaving irresponsibly by giving in to this thing between them.
“Whoa, wait up,” Thad joked when she hit the beach. “What’s the hurry?”
“Nothing. Sorry.” She’d been scurrying to get away from her cabin and the woods—out of potential sight of Dylan. She noticed Thad’s vaguely puzzled glance in the dying light. “What?” she asked.