Diving In

by Galway, Gretchen

  “What electrical guy?” Ansel asked.

  “We need better outlets in the break room. The ones there aren’t up to code.”

  “Can’t that wait until we close?”

  Brand strode over to the door. “We have to line up all the labor now. These guys schedule months in advance.” He nodded to Nicki as he pulled open the door. “Nice meeting you. I mean that sincerely.” And then he was gone.

  “Why’s he glad to meet me?” Nicki asked Ansel. She had a funny feeling he meant it.

  “Just being polite. He’s never glad,” Ansel said.

  “I bet he’d be glad if Diane stuck her tongue in his mouth.”

  “I’m not sure glad’s the word.” Ansel came over, put an arm around her waist, and kissed his way across her face to her mouth. “Elated?” He licked her lower lip from corner to corner. “Ecstatic?”

  “Think she ever will?”

  “Never.” He hauled her against him and kissed her hard.

  Nicki didn’t buy it. “She’s letting him stay there.”

  “She’s just being nice.”

  “Really?”

  “Okay, maybe she’s doing it as a favor to me. So you and I can be together.” He untied the sash of her robe.

  “That’s quite a present, especially since she lost her job.”

  “I totally agree.” One hand slipped between her legs, the other over her ass. His tongue slipped between her teeth and licked the inside of her mouth.

  She pushed him against the wall, giving as good as she got, dropping another conversation that never had a chance as long as they were within ten miles of each other.

  Chapter 25

  THE NEXT DAY, NICKI WOKE up alone. She had to open her eyes to remember where she was. She brought her phone to her face to look up the time, date, and day of the week. Unlike the school year, when her life was doled out by the minute with bells, streams of students, parents, and principals. Then she couldn’t even pee unless she added it to her schedule: between third and fourth period, and she had to jog, because the adult restrooms were on the other side of campus.

  But that wasn’t what her life was like today. Her phone told her it was Thursday, the twenty-eighth of June, just before nine. She was in Maui. She’d been sleeping with Ansel Jury-Jarski. He would be leaving soon but hadn’t said when. Miles would be getting married in less than three weeks.

  The phone didn’t tell her all of that; she remembered it on her own. It did tell her another thing, though: Betty wanted her to call her.

  She sank back into the messy bed and tapped Betty’s green-haired snapshot in the corner of her screen. While it rang, she reminded herself to wash the sheets as soon as she got up. Sleeping alone didn’t put the same demands on the linens as what she and Ansel had been doing.

  “Miles and Lucy think you’re coming to the reception,” Betty said when she picked up. “I was helping them order the food and drinks.”

  Nicki sat up. “No. I told him I couldn’t make it. I can’t afford the plane ticket back just for the day.”

  “He bought you a ticket,” Betty said. “He had points on his credit card, he said.”

  Nicki jumped out of bed. “No.”

  “He really wants you there.”

  Two years earlier, Nicki had sat in the bleachers at the youth center clubhouse, just to watch Miles teach badminton to a dozen football players from the high school. Bouncing around the huge males, the birdie looked like a mosquito. The rackets seemed smaller than their hands. It had made her laugh so hard, she’d had to leave, and as she waited at the bus stop, she’d realized how hard she’d fallen for him. She’d decided at that moment that Miles was the only man for her.

  A decision that was getting harder to comprehend. Miles was wonderful, of course, but he’d never once given her the kind of melting, hungry look he’d lavished on his fiancée; the kind of look that made you feel like the most beautiful woman on earth; the kind of look Ansel gave her when…

  Whenever. These days, when didn’t he look at her that way?

  She dragged her thoughts back to Miles. “Why? Why would he want me there?”

  “Don’t get excited. Lucy’s uncomfortable about the guest list. She wants to balance it out.”

  “I’m not excited, damn it. I’m angry. Why would he pressure me to humiliate myself like that?”

  “He wouldn’t if he thought that’s how you felt about it. Be grateful he doesn’t,” Betty said.

  “Why would he need me? He’s got plenty of friends. Is Lucy really that popular that he needs to pressure the unwilling to balance out his side?”

  “Oh, Lucy only has a few friends. Small family. It’s the adults they need. Right now the reception guest list has an average age of fifteen.”

  Nicki’s heart pinched. She let out a breath. “He invited all the kids from the clubhouse.”

  “Yeah. Lucy even encouraged him. That’s where they’re throwing the party.”

  “So, he wants me to chaperone.” Nicki ground out the word. “Because I’m a teacher, I bet. No wonder he wants to pay for my ticket. It’s a commercial transaction.”

  “Don’t get your panties in a twist—if you’re wearing any, which I doubt, given what you’ve been up to, you floozie,” Betty said. “He’s a popular guy. He knows dozens of people who don’t need airfare who’d come to the reception. He wants you because you’re friends. Really close friends, remember?”

  “I’m not going.”

  “What’s your excuse going to be this time?”

  “I’m too busy having sex with somebody who lo—” Nicki stopped herself.

  “Hula? Rich dude does hula?”

  Who loves me. No, no. Don’t get stupid. This was just a fling. All they did was eat, swim, and have sex. A pleasurable enough lifestyle, but hardly the foundation for true love. “Who likes to have sex with me,” she finished.

  “I’m sure Miles would’ve liked to have sex with you, too, if he’d ever known you were interested.”

  “He was dating somebody else.”

  “And now he’s marrying Lucy. You snooze, you—”

  “I’m not going to his wedding.”

  “Not even I got invited to that. This is just the party. They’re going to elope somewhere.”

  Nicki ran a hand through her hair. Of course she couldn’t go to a wedding; swimming in the pool had given her split ends. And her skin was peeling from the sun.

  Elope? Somewhere?

  “When?” Nicki asked.

  “They’re not saying. His friend the billionaire is threatening to crash it, no matter where it is.”

  “Then, for all we know, they’ve already gotten married,” Nicki said. “Miles could already be married.” She sat on the bed, staring at nothing.

  “Could be.”

  “I’m over him.” Nicki looked at her feet. The nail polish had chipped. The remaining red splotches made her toes look like a lawn mower had run over them.

  “Then you can go to this thing without getting upset. Bring your roommate. I’m curious to see him.” Betty cleared her throat. “And Jaynette would like to meet you.”

  Nicki managed a smile. “The breakup didn’t work out?”

  “She thinks I’m kidding. What do I have to do to convince her?”

  “Tell her what you want,” Nicki said. “If she dumps you, it’s win-win.”

  “I’ll tell them you’ll think about it,” Betty said.

  “No.”

  Silence. Betty had hung up.

  Damn.

  Nicki bent over, put her elbows on her knees and her chin in her hands, and stared at a palm tree outside her balcony. They had palms in northern California, but they weren’t like these. These made her feel like she was on the other side of the earth.

  She couldn’t go. She couldn’t watch everyone celebrate Miles choosing somebody else. Why should she put herself through that?

  “Nicki.”

  She looked up. Ansel stood between the sliding doors to the balcon
y. He had a sheet slung over his shoulders and a patio cushion under one arm.

  “Hi.” Smiling, she got to her feet. “I didn’t know you were here.”

  He didn’t move. “Who’s Miles?”

  * * *

  Ansel didn’t think of himself as a controlling guy. He’d never understood possessiveness; it didn’t mesh with his naturally generous nature.

  But when he’d heard Nicki talking—in a voice he’d never heard, angry and passionate—about another man, he’d wanted to rush into the room and demand an explanation.

  Which he’d just done.

  Nicki’s smile disappeared. “You were listening?”

  “I couldn’t help it. You woke me up. I was sleeping right there.” He pointed past the curtains to the balcony.

  She looked past him, her face unusually blank. “Insomnia again?”

  “Yeah.” He noticed she wasn’t answering his question. His stomach turned over. “Is he your ex? This Miles guy?”

  “No, just a friend,” she said. “He’s getting married in a few weeks. I can’t make the wedding.”

  He waited for her to say more.

  “Just a friend?” he asked finally.

  “Yes.”

  “You seemed pretty upset.”

  “My friend—the one I was just talking to, Betty—was giving me a hard time about not going.”

  He picked up her phone, where she’d left it on the nightstand. “You said you were over him. Those were your words.”

  She closed her eyes. Ducked her head.

  “Just friends?” he repeated.

  “We never touched each other.”

  It gave him a tight, uneasy feeling to realize he didn’t know her at all. This woman he’d been sleeping with, a woman he’d met years ago, a friend of his sister’s—she was still a stranger. “If you don’t want to talk about it, just say so.”

  “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Saw that coming.”

  She looked up and smiled faintly. “I’m sorry. Do you really want to know? It’s kind of”—she paused—“embarrassing.”

  “Yeah, I’d like to know. I’m nosy that way.” He walked over and sat on the bed next to her, patting his knees as if he were enjoying himself. “Tell me everything.”

  “There really isn’t anything to tell.”

  “Which is why it’s embarrassing,” he said.

  “Look,” she said. And then didn’t say anything else.

  He was suddenly furious. How could he know so little about her? He’d just told Brand he was in love. He’d said it to himself. It was just him being ridiculous again—impulsively, blindly jumping off a cliff. “Was it recent, this thing that wasn’t anything?”

  “I haven’t seen him in months. Maybe once since the school year started. We knew each other through work. He teaches an after-school sports program at a clubhouse he founded. Some of my students go there.”

  “Was there a time you saw him more often?”

  She let out a long breath. “I suppose. All right, yes. We used to go to the movies, dinner, that sort of thing, maybe once or twice a month.”

  “But he never touched you.”

  “No, I told you. It wasn’t like th—”

  “Did you want him to?”

  She stood and ran her hands through her hair, breathing too loudly. “I can’t talk about this.”

  “He’s getting married. Was that when—”

  “Am I being indicted before the grand jury here? What’s with all the questions?”

  “That’s it, isn’t it? You stopped seeing him because he got engaged.”

  “Yes! Obviously! That’s life.”

  He felt some slimy, unpleasant sensation come over him like a cape, tied around his throat, choking him. He thought it was anger, because she was lying to him about this guy and wouldn’t admit it. Then he realized it was jealousy. He was flaming green with it.

  “You were in love with him.” He crossed his arms over his chest to stop himself from reaching out to her. This wasn’t the time, but he felt the urge to confirm he could touch her. “Still are, it sounds like,” he added.

  She closed her eyes for a moment. Then she looked at him. “I thought he was perfect for me. It turned out he wasn’t. I mean, obviously. I’ve moved on. I don’t—”

  She shook her head and walked past him to tidy up the bed.

  He waited. “What?” he asked finally.

  “I don’t think about him anymore. I don’t want to think about him. I’ve got a life to live.” She punched the pillow into place, giving him a tight smile over her shoulder. “I’m here with you, aren’t I?”

  “Not by choice.”

  She stopped making the bed, turned, and stared at him. “Are you jealous?”

  “What does he look like?” He was nuts. What was he doing? He wanted to stop but couldn’t. He had to know everything about this guy.

  “You’re creeping me out. I have other male friends. I work with men. Are you going to demand to know about them?”

  “Are you in love with any of them?”

  She gave him a hard stare. “No.”

  “Then I don’t care.”

  “Miles is no different. Maybe he was—all right, he was, I wanted more and it didn’t happen—but now he’s just some guy I know. A nice guy who’s about to get married, and I probably won’t see him much after that, because that’s what happens, like it or not, when people find their”—she paused—“their soul mates. They tune out the rest of the world.”

  He wished he hadn’t heard a word, not any of it. He wished he’d woken with the dawn and made breakfast and never fallen asleep on the balcony where he’d found out Nicki had a hole in her heart for somebody else. “Now I’m depressed,” he said, and sat on the bed.

  That seemed to make her feel better, even if it didn’t do anything for him. Smiling, she plopped down next to him, put her arms around him, and buried her face in his neck. “I’m sorry you’re depressed.” She kissed him on the jaw as she stroked his chest.

  “You seem cheerful,” he said sourly. He didn’t push her away, though.

  “I’m flattered. I’m ashamed to admit it, but I am.”

  For a second, he was tempted to tell her about Diane’s drunken proposal, just to even the score. He’d spent hours yesterday, and the day before, with Diane; wasn’t Nicki even a little jealous? Most women found her intimidating, which was one reason her best friend was a man. His last girlfriend had hated her. “Best friends should be ugly,” she’d said.

  But he didn’t want Nicki to be jealous; he wanted himself not to be. He pulled free from her arms and kisses and said, “The only way you’ll convince me is if you go to the wedding.”

  She started to laugh before she realized he was serious. “I can’t.” Her voice shook the way it had before she’d driven over a bridge on the Hana Highway.

  “You’re scared,” he said.

  “Aren’t I always?” She forced a laugh.

  He got up and went out to the balcony. Paradise looked cheerful this morning. He wished it would rain.

  “Ansel.” She came up next to him, not touching him, just leaning against the railing inches away. “The wedding’s in three weeks. I don’t even know if you’ll be here then. You said you wouldn’t, but maybe your business will drag out and I, well, I wouldn’t want to miss any of our time together.”

  That’s nice, he told himself. She wants to be with me.

  But they each lived in the same metropolitan region. They could see each other indefinitely, whenever, if they wanted to. He was assuming they would.

  Apparently, she wasn’t. And now he knew why.

  “Maybe you’re not in love with this guy,” he said. “But you have to go, not just to convince me, but to convince yourself.”

  “I’m not going. It’s just the reception, anyway. They’ll probably elope.”

  “All the more reason,” he said. “You don’t have to sit through the ceremony, just the fun part afterw
ard.”

  “It won’t be fun.”

  The breath went out of him. What had he expected? A lie?

  Maybe. Now he knew where he stood, what he was up against.

  Was he willing to wait for her to get over somebody else?

  He brushed his knuckles across her cheek. Meeting his gaze, she leaned into his touch, her expression softening.

  Sure he was.

  “If you want to use me sexually as part of the healing process,” he said, “I just want you to know that it’s okay with me.”

  Shooting him a sexy smile, she put an arm around his waist. “What would I do without you?”

  “Drown?”

  She tickled him in the ribs, grabbed his face, and kissed him. Within seconds, they had to go back inside—never too early to start the healing—but there was desperation to the sex that hadn’t been there before.

  The entire time, he couldn’t stop wondering if she was thinking about the other guy.

  Chapter 26

  THE NEXT NIGHT, NICKI WOKE up only a few hours after she and Ansel had gone to bed. They’d retired early—right after dinner with Brand and Diane, who had come over with takeout sushi. All the busy nights had exhausted both of them, and as soon as they’d collapsed under the tangled sheets of Ansel’s bed, they were asleep.

  When she turned over in the dark and felt alone in his big bed, she sat up, patting the mattress—as if he’d shrunk to action figure size—then awoke completely. She got out of bed, pulling on a shirt and underwear she found tangled between the sheets, and walked over to the balcony.

  The night was young; people at the pool lingered under tiki torches, and a few children were still splashing in the wading pool.

  She turned on a reading light near the desk and pointed it at the balcony.

  There he was. Curled up under a white sheet on the chaise, Ansel reminded her of her twelve-year-old Californian pharaohs in the middle of a class mummification demo.

  He looked uncomfortable, like a man too tired to care his head was at a right angle to his shoulders. His elbows and knees were bent, curled up into the air slightly, as though fending off an attack—or having just lost one.