Diving Deep

by Megyn Ward

  I have an hour. Just enough time to run back to the condo and change into island clothes. I’d figure out how to entertain Liesa for the rest of the afternoon on the way.

  Something snags on the edge of my consciousness. Has me reaching into my pocket to pull out my cell to check the time.

  Four o’clock.

  I made plans to pick Kylie up at seven. If I meet Liesa at the office at five, that leaves me two hours to take her for a smoothie—not a cocktail because that would make me look too predatory—and make a plan for tomorrow. I didn’t want to seem over-eager with Liesa, anyway.

  No danger of that.

  Shit. Maybe she’d like to go to Sting Ray City or Rum Beach. We’ll start out purely platonic. It’s hard to gain a girl’s trust if you act like the kind of guy who just wants to get her naked.

  Isn’t that what you are?

  Not by choice.

  I should be formulating a game plan for my date with Liesa tomorrow. Instead, I punch in the number for my favorite seafood place. The windows overlook the sunset, the lobster is always fresh, the day’s catch is cooked tableside. Kylie’ll love the shrimp cocktail.

  I should probably blow her off. One date isn’t going to do either of us any good. It might even hurt because I’ll want more.

  For the first time in months, I’m looking forward to something that doesn’t involve waking up with sand in my mouth and a sore dick.

  And I haven’t thought of Lexi. Not once since I ran into Kylie outside Jonas’s office yesterday afternoon.

  What I’m doing to Liesa, a girl I didn’t even know, is bad enough. But Kylie doesn’t deserve this kind of treatment. So why don’t I just let it go?

  I can’t answer that. I just know I want to see her one last time. If I don’t show up, she’ll think I stood her up and I can’t do that to her. I’ll take her out. We’ll have a good time, and when the evening is over, I’ll find a way to step out of her life without hurting her.

  Chapter 19

  Zach

  I made it back to the office with five minutes to spare. Calming my breath in the elevator before it spits me out on the top floor, I remind myself what’s at stake. All I have to do is gain Liesa’s trust and get her to bed and I’ll be on easy street for the rest of my life. When I couch it in plain terms, it doesn’t really seem like a bad deal.

  Yeah? Not such a bad deal? Then why’s your dick trying to crawl in on itself?

  Alicia’ll spend years going to school and the rest of her life in an office or on the phone, missing vacations, rushing from the beach to join conference calls. She’ll be consumed with accumulating money, gaining market shares, making a name for herself. Meanwhile, I’ll be hanging out on the beach, traveling to exotic locations, enjoying every day. Answering to no one. And all I have to do is make a girl fall for me.

  Yeah, and then trick her into giving up her V-card.

  I exit the elevator. Judith raises her eyes to me, not her whole head; that might require more energy than she thinks I’m worth. She lifts a file folder with a languid movement. “Mr. Knightly asked me to give you this.”

  I take the folder. “Is he here?”

  She moves her head slightly, symbolic of a negative answer.

  Great. Jonas orchestrated our bumping into each other yesterday but now I’m on my own. I open the folder to a black and white glossy. The girl in the photo is every bit as elegant and frosty as IR. With blonde hair slicked back in a flawless and severe bun, high cheekbones, grim set to her mouth, beautiful as she is, Liesa Temple looks like a steel wall, impenetrable and cold.

  A single sheet of paper comprised the remainder of the folder items. In bold-faced type, the words, Make her happy slap me.

  A friendly threat from Jonas Knightly and Niles.

  A ding from the elevator transforms IR. She seems to soften from her shoulders to her feet and a warm smile spread across her face.

  Liesa Temple steps into the sunlight cast from the floor to ceiling windows. She’s wearing a ball cap with her hair poked through the back. Dark glasses cover most of her face. Khaki cargo pants, hanging loose from her hips and a white t-shirt with no bra covering her perky breasts. She doesn’t look like an obscenely rich TV star, and nothing like her chic appearance yesterday.

  IR steps out from her desk and rushes over. “Ms. Temple. How lovely.” In the last minute since she’d talked to me, she’s developed an upper-crust British accent.

  Liesa’s gaze slides from Judith to me and back to Judith. In a voice laced with ice she addresses the receptionist. “Please tell Mr. Knightly that I’m here.”

  Judith clasps her hands in front of her. “I’m terribly sorry but Mr. Knightly’s flight from Cayman Brach was canceled.”

  Judith is a big, fat liar.

  Liesa sighs and rolls her eyes. “Terrific.”

  That’s my cue. I take a few steps forward. “Hi. I’m Zach Lowery. We met briefly yesterday.”

  Despite the fact that I have about a foot on her, she somehow manages to look down her nose at me.

  So far, she’s not impressed.

  I smile to show off my dimples. “Jonas is mentoring me but since he’s gone, I’m calling it a day.”

  She thaws slightly. “Island time, I suppose.”

  Judith speaks in the cottony British accent again. “Mr. Knightly has requested we reschedule your appointment. Unfortunately, he needs to attend to his elderly mother tomorrow. He spends every Tuesday with her. She is somewhat confused, but his weekly visits give her an anchor. He wants you to know you are terribly important to him, but he can’t possibly disappoint his mother. I hope you understand.”

  Bold move, Jonas. The rich—and I know this from living with Mom—expect the service class to cater to their schedule. They don’t want to imagine other people have lives. But Jonas is dealing with a young woman and he’s banked on her trusting a man who’s devoted to his mother.

  “Might we schedule you for Wednesday?” Judith asks in a supplicating tone.

  I wait to see if his gambit pays off.

  “I suppose.” Liesa purses her lips. “Make it early, say one o’clock.”

  Judith thanks Liesa, gushing and fawning while

  Liesa ignores her and glides toward the elevator. I join her there and we step into the car together.

  How the hell do I break the ice, literally, with this frigid girl? “Do you come to the Caymans often?”

  She lets her pale blue eyes focus on me. “I have a house in the canal district and when I’m on the island, I spend all my time there by the pool.”

  Gently, carefully. “This is Mom’s favorite spot on the globe and she’s been bringing me and my sister here our whole lives. I have to confess to loving it as much as she does.”

  She regards me. “You sound like you’re from New York.”

  I nodded. “You’re good.”

  “Cayman isn’t much like New York.” She wrinkles her nose. “It’s got the heat and humidity of Manhattan in August, without the museums, restaurants, theaters and well, New York.”

  The conversation is going my way. “Ah, but there’s the island magic here. The soft marine breeze, unblemished sunsets, jerk chicken and conch fritters, reggae. The lazy island rhythm.”

  The elevator doors open, and we step out. The flat leather soles of her sandals click on the marble. “I prefer a chilly fall day in Central Park.”

  I walk alongside her. “Yep. I’m with you there. But before you discount the island, you ought to let someone who appreciates it show you around.”

  She looks skeptical.

  “Come on. You had some time blocked out to see Jonas. Why not let me give you a tour of the island instead.”

  “I don’t like to wander around in public.” But she’s stopped. She’s considering.

  “You look like any tourist with those big glasses. No one’ll know who you are. How often do you get a chance to see a place through a local’s eyes?”

  She allows a trace of a smile. “You are
n’t a local.”

  “I practically am. I know a cart on Seven Mile Beach where you can get the best fruit ice, made with real island fruit.”

  She casts a glance out the front doors. “Street vendors? Is that sanitary?”

  I flash her my dimples and try not to think about Kylie. The way she walked around barefoot like it was no big deal. Ate greasy chicken from a broken-down shack. Licked her fingers clean and smiled at me, happy as a calm. “I’ve tried them all, so I know what’s safe and what’s not.”

  She’s wavering.

  I risk putting a light hand on her arm. “My car is in the garage. We’ll get the fruit ice and I’ll give you a tour. You’ve got nothing to lose.”

  I did, though. If I didn’t have her charmed enough in two hours to spend tomorrow with me, I’ll have to keep at it. That would mean standing Kylie up. She’s had enough disappointment in the last two days. Truthfully, I don’t want to disappoint myself.

  Liesa relents and follows me to my Mercedes. It’s one of Niles cast-offs. A few years old but impeccably maintained.

  She isn’t much for small talk and I carry the conversation, pointing out places of interest. We find the street cart and I order her a mango ice, doing my best to be charming and flash my dimples as I gave her a tour.

  The expression on Liesa’s face vacillates between boredom and annoyance. She tolerates half of the fruit ice but makes me pull over so she could throw it away. I drive her to the western tip of the island and the tiny Blue Coral resort. Not impressed. We swing into the glittering financial district with luxury shopping and fancy boutiques. She doesn’t care. She sighs and folds her arms, unfolds and refolds them, taps her nails on the door handle and sighs some more.

  My internal clock ticks and the silence in my Mercedes feels like a bottomless black hole. “You’re an only child, huh?”

  She rolls her eyes, folds those pale arms. “You know I am.”

  I chuckle. “Yeah. I guess I’d have to live in a vacuum not to know something about you.”

  She faces the passenger window.

  “But, you know, I have sort of been living in a vacuum.” I have to get under her armor.

  “Oh?” She sounds about as interested as a sloth at a tennis tournament.

  “My girlfriend broke up with me about a year ago.” I hate talking about it but I have to make myself vulnerable if I want to get her to open up. “We’d been together since we were fifteen. I thought we’d always be together.”

  “That’s too bad.” I haven’t drawn her in, yet.

  “I kind of checked out for a while. I quit going to classes and then dropped out altogether and, moved home.”

  No response.

  “I’m sorry,” I navigate through the twisting roads of a residential area. The houses sport bright pinks and blues, jungle fauna barely contained, threatening to take over. No sidewalks, definitely not the swankiest section of the island. “I’m boring you.”

  “No, not at all.” She might as well have said, hell yes.

  “It’s just that I don’t have a lot of friends. She was my whole world, you know? I isolated myself from everyone.”

  She shoots me a sideways glance.

  The barest of cracks. I press on. “It’s kind of presumptuous of me but I thought you might understand.”

  “Why would I understand? I haven’t been dumped by anyone.” Fold arms, refold.

  Six-thirty. No way am I making it on time to pick up Kylie. I lay it on. “I know. But I thought maybe you were like me with the no friends thing.”

  She flinches. “I have friends.”

  I let out a breath as if relieved. “God, I’m sorry. No, I mean, I’m really glad. It’s great you have friends. I’ve never had many. You know, when your family has a lot of money, you learn to protect yourself. You can get isolated and sealed off because you don’t trust people. It only takes one or two friends who use you for the money or connections, and you get good at shutting yourself down.”

  She twists her regal neck to make eye contact with me but doesn’t say anything.

  “I confess I haven’t watched much of your show, but in the episodes I’ve seen, it looks like you fight with your friends and mother a lot. Seems like someone is always coming after you about something.”

  She stares out the window. “It’s TV.”

  So far, I haven’t lied. But I’ve been playing a part instead of being real. And real is what I’m going to have to be if I want this girl to open up to me. “I was always a loner. Then I met Lexi. She didn’t come from the kind of money I did, but her family wasn’t hurting. It started out slowly. I didn’t let her in but she was patient, always there, not minding when I turned away. Bit by bit, she won me over. She was so cute and sweet and funny. Smart and loyal.” Saying it out loud, I finally make myself admit that Lexi was none of those things. That it was all act. She never loved me.

  Liesa leans toward me slightly. “And she broke up with you?”

  I hooked her. Too bad my throat closed up and my eyes stung with tears. “Yeah. And I get that people break up and someone gets hurt. That happens all the time and I’m not special. But she didn’t just break up with me.”

  Liesa’s aqua eyes flash with compassion but she doesn’t respond.

  “I found out she’d been seeing someone behind my back. She didn’t want to break up until she had the next deal closed. Not so loyal after all.”

  Liesa gives me a sad look. “Lilypad effect.”

  “What’s that?”

  She sounds disgusted. “Insecure girls always need a guy. So they’re like frogs. They jump from one lily pad to the next so they never have to swim on their own.”

  I’ve been driving around the business district in random circles. “That’s Lexi, all right. The golden lily pad effect.”

  “What do you mean?”

  I pull over to the side of the road along a stretch of beach and roll down the windows. “She left me for Bradshaw Bishop.”

  Liesa’s eyes shot up. “He’s loaded. They say the fifth richest man in Europe. But he’s old and ugly.”

  “Bradshaw the second. Just as ugly, just as rich, but considerably younger.”

  “How did Lexi meet him? I mean, I know them both but that’s because we serve on a few charitable boards together. Exclusive membership. Brad is a total dork and his father keeps him pretty isolated.”

  I shrug. “I told you Lexi was smart and patient. I guess if you’re that determined to get at someone else’s money, you’ll find a way.” And thanks to Niles and Jonas, I was following in sweet Lexi’s footprints.

  We sit in silence for several minutes, both of us watching the waves on the rocks.

  She steals a glance. “I don’t know if you have plans. But I’m starving. If you’re not busy, do you think we can get some dinner?”

  It worked.

  Holy shit it worked.

  I’m on my way to financial freedom.

  Soon, I’ll be able to tell Niles to kiss my ass.

  I should be turning cartwheels.

  So why do I feel like shit?

  “Sound’s great.” I start my car and try to push Kylie out of my mind. “I know a great place right on the beach.”

  Chapter 20

  Kylie

  I pull the green sundress over my head and drop it on my bed. I pick up the blue one again and hold it up. The backless halter might show too much skin for a first date, but the color brings out my eyes. The green one snugs at my waist and shows a bit more leg.

  Shit. Why do I care how I look?

  Because you like him.

  I’m only going out with Zach to glean intel on Jonas.

  Then why do you choke every time you try to ask him about working for him?

  I yank the blue dress on and secure the ties at my neck.

  Diana wanders in and flops on her twin bed. We share one bedroom and Blake has the other. It’s a small house, with shabby furniture. Our room contains two twin beds and two rickety dressers. A sho
wer curtain serves as our closet door.

  “Must be an important date if you blow-dried your hair.” Diana appraises me, her eyes dancing with humor.

  I rummage on the floor of the closet, pairing up sandals, tennis shoes and flip-flops. “Not really. I just hadn’t been out in a while and felt like going the extra mile.”

  For Zach. That’s okay. You can say it.

  “The green dress is sexier than the blue dress.” She appraises me with a critical eye, lips pursed slightly. “Do you want to borrow something of mine?”

  I find the shoes I’m been looking for and straighten out of the closet. “Naw. This will do.”

  “Heels?” She eyes the shoes, smiling again. “Don’t tell me—you just feel like going the—”

  I look at the shoes in my hands and feel my cheeks start to heat. “Shut up,” I grumble, throwing them back into the closet and dig for my leather flats.

  Diana pulls herself off the bed and fishes out the pair of cute wedge sandals she bought last week and hands them to me and drops the flats back into the shoe orgy of our closet. “Where’s he taking you?”

  “He didn’t say.” Grimacing, I tug on one shoe and then the other. “I hope no place fancy with shrimp cocktail and lobster and snooty waiters.”

  Diana rolls her eyes. “He is so wasted on you. You’d be happy with a hotdog on the beach.”

  I shrug. “I love the beach and I like hotdogs.” Money has never been my thing. When you grow up without it, you either obsess over it or develop this sort of take it or leave it attitude about it. I’m team take it or leave it. I only need enough money to keep me fed, sheltered and diving. As an employed dive master, I had the last part covered for free. Now I’m not sure when my next dive trip will be.

  Diana stuffs herself into a Lycra tube she likes to call a skirt. “If you’re not after his money, why are you going out with Zach Lowery?”

  I pick up eyeliner and consider my reflection. Do I really need it? I hated make-up. “How do you know his last name?”

  “He paid with a credit card last night. I googled him.” Diana waggles her eyebrows. “His dad is Niles Lowery.”