The Cabin

by Alice Ward

  “Like I have the time for that,” I said, trying to keep my tone casual. The truth was, it bothered me more than I let on. As much as I loved my job, my personal life was suffering too much. I hadn’t been on a date in months. Niki was right. If I wasn’t careful, my job would soon overshadow every aspect of my life.

  “What about Ray’s son?” Niki asked suddenly, her eyes alive with excitement.

  “Zach?” I asked with a shudder.

  “No, not him,” Niki said. She leaned forward in her chair. I could feel the energy pouring off her. “The other one. The one in the picture.”

  “Sean?” I asked. “What about him?”

  “Well, if he’s as attractive as you said…”

  “I didn’t say he was attractive,” I interjected. “I just said he fit the brand we’re trying to create.”

  “I’m not the board,” Niki said. “You don’t have to whip out the party line for me. You can just say he’s hot.”

  “He’s not.”

  “I don’t believe you,” Niki laughed. “I can see it in your eyes.”

  “I haven’t even met him,” I reminded her.

  “But when you do…” she let her sentence trail off into nothingness. With a sly grin, she took another sip of her tea and allowed me to change the subject, but my mind stayed focused on Sean for the rest of my lunch break.

  ***

  When I made it back to the office, I decided to stop in and talk to Ray. I couldn’t wait any longer to find out how things went with Sean. Niki’s words echoed in my ears, but I forced them away. I told myself I was only interested in Sean for the sake of the business. He was just Ray’s son and, hopefully, the new face of Ray Yates’ Motorcycles.

  “Hey, Ray,” I said. “Got a minute?”

  “Come in,” he said, waving me inside. I walked over to the chair in front of his desk and sat down. He already knew why I was there. “I talked to him.”

  “You did?” I asked, sitting up a little straighter. “And? How did it go?”

  “Not well,” Ray admitted. “It was a disaster.”

  My heart sank, but I nodded. I didn’t want to let my disappointment show.

  “That’s okay,” I said. “Maybe it wasn’t as bad as you think.”

  “It was worse,” he said with an unamused laughed. “It was a good idea, Tara, but I think it’s time to move on. We should start looking elsewhere.”

  “Sure,” I said. “I can handle that.”

  “Thank you.” He smiled gratefully. I could tell he was worried I wouldn’t drop the issue. “Jennifer has some headshots for you to look at.”

  “I’ll grab them from her,” I told him. I stood up and walked over to the door. Before I stepped into the hallway, I turned around and added, “Ray, for what it’s worth… I’m really sorry things didn’t go well with Sean. And not just for the company’s sake.”

  “Me too,” Ray said sadly.

  I left the office and hurried down the hall toward Jennifer’s desk. She already had the headshots ready for me. She was on the phone with a customer, but she handed me the folder over her shoulder and smiled. I mouthed a quick “thank you” and took the folder back to my office.

  The second I opened it, I knew we were screwed. Every model was picturesque and gorgeous. They all had blue eyes and black hair. Just like Sean’s. But none of them shared the same gruff, manly quality that Sean’s picture seemed to embody. A few of them went so far as to pose on a motorcycle, but every single one of them looked uncomfortable. Their faces were contorted awkwardly as they tried to smolder at the camera. Some of them were so bad, I couldn’t help but laugh.

  I threw the last one down on my desk and sighed deeply. I wasn’t sure what Ray expected me to do. None of these models fit the bill. Sure, they might work if we had no other choice, but I wasn’t sure they would have the desired effect. Having grown up around bikes and men that loved them, I knew exactly what our customers would think of these men. They would take one look and dismiss them as fake. We would lose their respect even more than we already had.

  After a few minutes of wallowing, I dove back in. I was determined to find one model, just one, who could be made to look halfway decent. Flipping through the folder, I pulled out each photo and stared at it for a long time. My eyes scanned the men’s faces and their hair. I looked over their bodies and their physique. I squinted and turned the pictures sideways, then upside down. I searched desperately for a glimpse of the potential I’d seen in Sean’s photograph. There was nothing. Not a single one.

  Just as I was about to give up for good, my phone rang. The ring cut through the endless silence and made me jump. I’d almost forgotten where I was.

  “Tara Isaac here,” I said as I put the phone to my ear.

  “Tara,” a familiar voice said. “It’s Sean Yates.”

  “Sean!” My voice went up an octave involuntarily. I shook myself and took a breath. “Hello. What can I do for you?”

  “I’ll do it,” he said quickly.

  “I’m sorry?”

  “The job,” he said. “I’ll do it. You can tell my dad I’m in. I’ll be there Monday.”

  I opened my mouth to speak, but the line had already gone dead. I blinked and pulled the phone away from my ear. Staring at it, I tried to process what just happened. I set the phone down and exhaled slowly. My first instinct was to be angry that he hung up on me again. This guy, who I’d never met in person, was already treating me like nothing more than a nuisance, but my anger quickly faded.

  A smile began to form on my face as I walked down the hall toward Ray’s office. Sean’s words sank in more and more the faster I moved.

  “It worked,” I said as I barged into Ray’s office. I didn’t realize I was breathing heavy until I was standing in front of Ray. My heart was racing and my face felt flushed with excitement.

  “What worked?” he asked. “Did you find a model?”

  “No,” I shook my head. “Better. Sean called.”

  “Sean called?” Ray repeated. He stared at me like I was speaking a foreign language. “What do you mean he called? When? Now? What did he say?”

  “He just called my office,” I explained. “And whatever you did, Ray, whatever you said to him… it worked. He agreed. He said he’ll do it.”

  “He will?” Ray asked. He jumped to his feet and walked around his desk so we stood face to face.

  “Yes,” I said. My voice was getting louder, but I didn’t care. I was too excited about what this could mean for the company. “He was an ass. Again. He hung up on me after about two seconds, but he said he’d do it!”

  “What else did he say?” Ray asked.

  “Just that he’d be here Monday,” I said.

  “Monday.” Ray repeated with a nod. He seemed dazed. Like he was in a fog. “Well, we have work to do.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Sean

  Paisley came into the living room wearing her swimsuit. She had a cover thrown over her shoulders and her duffle back in her hand. I watched as she set down her bag and checked that her towel, goggles, and a change of clothes were safely packed inside. When she was satisfied, she zipped it up and went to stand by the front door.

  “You don’t have to go today,” I told her softly. “If you aren’t ready, you don’t have to go.”

  “I want to go,” she said. I couldn’t see her face, but I could feel her eyes roll. This was a conversation we’d had three times already, but I needed to make sure. It seemed fast. Claire died just over a week ago.

  “I know you do,” I said. “But, if you don’t think you can handle it yet…”

  “I can,” she promised. “There’s only a few weeks of swim camp and I’ve already missed one. I don’t want to miss any more.”

  “Alright,” I sighed. I knew I was fighting a losing battle. “At least let me take you.”

  “I already told you,” she said. “Hayden’s mom is picking me up. It’s all worked out.”

  “I know, I know,” I said. “I
would just feel better if I knew you got there safely.”

  “Hayden’s mom takes me everywhere,” she reminded me. “I’ve known her since I was five.”

  I fought back a grin. Paisley’s serious tone always made me both nervous and amused. She was so sure of herself for someone so young. At eight years old, her age rarely showed, but there were times when I couldn’t help but notice how small she still was. To her, five was a million years ago. Having known Hayden and her mom for three years was like knowing them her entire life.

  “I trust you,” I said. “Let me get your lunch ready.”

  “Hurry,” she said. She turned around to face me with wide eyes. “They’ll be here any minute. I can’t be late.”

  “I’ll hurry,” I promised. I went into the kitchen and quickly grabbed a loaf of bread and some peanut butter from the pantry. I made her sandwich and threw it in a brown paper bag. After adding a cup of applesauce and some potato chips, I walked back to the living room. Paisley took the bag without a word.

  We stood there together, just staring out the window for five minutes. There was so much I still wanted to say to her, but I was beginning to appreciate the silence. Paisley was smart for her age. She already had an attitude that could give me a run for my money, and she spent most of her time living inside her own head. I never knew I could be intimidated by an eight-year-old until Paisley came to live with me.

  “What time does camp end?” I asked suddenly. I just realized we hadn’t discussed how she was getting home.

  “Four,” she said simply.

  “Should I pick you up?” I asked.

  Paisley frowned, but she didn’t tear her eyes away from the window.

  “I mean, I don’t have to if you already have a ride home,” I added. “Whatever you want.”

  “You can pick me up,” she said.

  The sentence was a simple one, but it filled me warmth. For the first time in over a week, her words weren’t sassy or impatient. She thought about her answer and decided it was okay. It was a small thing, miniscule really, but it felt huge to me. It felt like we’d taken a step forward, however insignificant that step may be.

  “Okay,” I smiled. “I’ll be there.”

  “At four,” she reminded.

  “At four,” I promised.

  “They’re here!” she said. She grabbed her bag and threw the strap over her shoulder. With her lunch in one hand, she twisted the doorknob and ran out onto the porch.

  “Hold on!” I said, hurrying after her. “I’ll walk you to the car.”

  “You don’t need to,” she said.

  “But I want to.”

  “No.”

  I stared at her for a second, considering whether I should push the issue. On one hand, I didn’t like the idea of letting her climb into a car with someone I’d never met. That didn’t seem like something a good parent would do. But, on the other hand, I really did not want to piss her off.

  “I’ll just introduce myself to Hayden’s mom, okay?” I said. “It’ll be quick.”

  “No,” she said again. She glared at me with as much anger as she could muster.

  “Paisley…”

  “I have to go.” She hurried toward the car and threw open the back door. I walked after her slowly. When she turned back and saw me coming, she rolled her eyes and pulled the car door shut. I sighed and turned my attention to the driver’s seat.

  “Hi,” I said, lifting my arm to wave. Hayden’s mom rolled down the window and smiled. “I’m Sean Yates. I’m Paisley’s dad.”

  “I’m Helen,” she smiled. “I think we met at the funeral.”

  “Probably,” I nodded. “There were a lot of people there.”

  “Claire was loved,” Helen said sadly.

  “She was,” I said. I looked around awkwardly, wondering what else I should say. “Well, um, thanks for taking Paisley.”

  “It’s no problem,” Helen said. “We always carpool.”

  “Got it,” I said. I peered through to the back seat. “Have a good day.”

  I could barely see Paisley hidden behind the front seat, but Hayden smiled and waved at me. I smiled back and tapped the car as I walked back up to the house. On the porch, I turned around and watched them pull away. It was the first time Paisley was going to be away from me since the night of Claire’s accident. I told myself it was only for a day and that I would see her after camp. Four o’clock.

  Things hadn’t been easy over the past week, but it was worth it. I knew Paisley’s attitude was just her way of dealing with everything. Her entire life changed in one night. It only made sense that it would take her some time to adjust. At least three times a day, I reminded myself to be patient. Even though she didn’t know it, she needed me. And I was beginning to think I needed her, too.

  I walked into the kitchen and checked the time on the oven. Seven thirty. I was due at work in a half hour. I poured a cup of coffee and leaned against the counter. It would only take about twenty minutes to get to Phoenix if I drove fast, but I knew I should leave soon. Being late on my first day wouldn’t look good. Still, I waited until my coffee was gone before I grabbed my keys and walked outside.

  ***

  It took me exactly twenty-two minutes to drive from my house to Ray Yates’ Motorcycles in Phoenix. When I pulled into the parking lot, I wasn’t sure where to park. I drove my bike around to the back of the lot and found an empty space. Taking my time, I unhooked my helmet and turned the bike off. I was in no hurry to get inside that building.

  As I climbed off my bike, I looked up at the three-story building in front of me. I hadn’t seen it in years. It seemed different, bigger almost. Me and my bike both felt small by comparison. I sighed and stuffed my hands in my pockets. This was the last place on Earth I wanted to be.

  Forcing myself to move, I walked around to the front of the building. My pace was slow, slower than it needed to be. I dragged my feet and tried to think of a good reason to bail on the whole idea. What I wanted, more than anything, was to climb back on my bike and hit the highway. I wanted to drive until I made it back home. I wanted to sit on my couch and not think for a while. I wanted to pick up a shift at the repair shop where I was comfortable and where I could be myself. Then, after work, I wanted to pick Paisley up from camp and ask her about her day.

  Instead, I walked up to the front doors of Ray Yates’ Motorcycles and stopped. There were a few customers inside, but not many. I could see employees moving around, adjusting displays and talking amongst themselves. The show room looked nice, but I was unimpressed. I knew the show room here was miniscule compared to their other locations. This building was the corporate office. The real action took place on the top two floors, where my father and brother worked.

  I took a deep breath and pulled the glass doors open. Stepping inside, I felt a rush of cold air. A wave of leather cleaner accosted my nose, and I grimaced. Thankfully, no one was around to see it.

  “Good morning, sir!” one of the employees called out. He hurried over to me. “What can I help you with today?”

  “Nothing,” I said shortly. I stepped around him and walked deeper into the showroom. My eyes roamed freely over the bikes as I moved.

  “Are you looking for something in particular?” the employee asked. “A new bike or customization options?”

  “No,” I said. I could feel his frustration growing, but I didn’t bother to stop and explain myself. I wove a path through the bikes until I reached the back hallway.

  “Sir, that area is for employees only,” the guy said. I didn’t realize he’d followed me over until I heard his voice.

  “That’s okay,” I said. “I don’t think they’ll mind.”

  I walked over to the elevators and pressed the button. Standing back, I waited for the doors to open. Beside me, the same disgruntled employee was looking around for help.

  “Relax,” I said. “I’m related to the boss.”

  “The boss?” he asked. “Mr. Yates?”

  “That�
��s the one,” I said.

  “Oh.” He took a giant step backward and laughed awkwardly. “Sorry about that.”

  I didn’t say anything, but he turned around and went back to the showroom. I watched him go, wishing I could go with him. Spending the day downstairs in the showroom was much more appealing than seeing my father again.

  The elevator light came on and the doors pulled apart slowly. A woman about my age stepped off and extended her hand to me. She smiled brightly.

  “Sean,” she said, her dark green eyes taking in my appearance. I wondered if I should have dressed better. “It’s so nice to meet you, finally. I’m Tara. Tara Isaac.”

  “Oh,” I said. I shook her hand. “The woman I spoke with.”

  “Yes,” she nodded. “Come on up. We have some exciting things to discuss.”

  I stepped onto the elevator with her. I didn’t feel any excitement. I only felt a strong sense of dread. Tara stood slightly in front of me while the elevator doors closed. Her long blonde hair fell in ringlets down her back. I shuffled my feet and cleared my throat.

  “Well,” she said, turning around to face me. “I think you’re going to be pretty thrilled when you see what we have planned. We’re all just so happy to have you here. I can’t tell you what this will mean for the company. Your image is exactly what we’re looking for.”

  “My image?” I asked.

  “Yes,” she said. “Your authentic, biker look. It’s perfect. The customers will eat it up.”

  “It’s not a look,” I said. “It’s just me.”

  “Which is exactly what makes it perfect.” Tara’s smiled was forced, but she held it in place while she spoke. I didn’t know what to say, so I just nodded and stared at her. She looked back, clearly waiting for me to speak.

  “I’m sure it’ll be great,” I said. I did my best to keep my voice level and professional, but the sarcasm seeped in without my permission. Tara’s smile faltered slightly.

  “It will be,” she insisted. “We’re going to meet with your father first. That way we can make sure we’re all on the same page. How does that sound?”

  I grimaced at her as the elevator stopped and the doors opened. We were on the third floor. My father’s office was just a few feet away. In that moment, a grimace was the best I could do.