Flirting with Boys

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Flirting with Boys Page 4

by Hailey Abbott


  Celeste groaned. The golf course was acres of rolling green hills, palm groves, and ponds. It would take her hours to find Travis out there. “Thanks, Dave,” she called through the screen.

  She trotted over the flat, grassy lawns, past the first sand trap and the caddy shed until, with relief, she saw the big green riding mowers circling the first hole. Travis’s curly head bobbed on the seat of one. He seemed to be struggling with one of the gears. He shoved it and the mower stalled and then died. Travis gave the steering wheel a whack with his fist.

  “Trav!” Celeste called out and waved. He looked up and then climbed down off the mower and kicked at one of the wheels before coming over.

  Celeste quailed a little as he approached. She could tell by the vein throbbing in his forehead that he was still mad. Slowly, he walked over and stood in front of her, not saying anything.

  She reached out and put her hand on his forearm. “Travis—look, I know you’re mad about earlier.”

  He raised his eyebrows at her and looked away. Celeste rushed on.

  “But it’s not how it looks at all! That guy—that was Nick Saunders. He and parents have been coming here forever. They’re our best customers. We’ve basically grown up together.”

  Travis was still gazing over the golf course. “Well, that didn’t seem like a particularly brotherly hug.” His voice was cold.

  “Travis—look at me! He just grabbed me—I didn’t even have time to react.” She struggled to keep the tears out of her voice but her throat was swelling dangerously. “Look, don’t be like this. I’m not interested in Nick Saunders. All I’ve been thinking about since yesterday is spending the summer with you. It’s my job to be nice to him.” She paused for a moment and took a breath. He bent down and peered into her face.

  “Are you crying?” he asked, his forehead wrinkling.

  “No,” Celeste said, as a tear trickled down the side of her nose.

  Travis wrapped his big arms around her and pulled her into his chest. Celeste buried her nose in his shoulder and inhaled his smell of cut grass, clean sweat, and Lever 2000 soap.

  “Look, I’m sorry,” Travis murmured into the hair at the top of her head. “I’m being a jealous jerk. I just hate thinking of you with anyone else. Can we forget I ever said anything?”

  Celeste nodded. “That sounds great.”

  Travis slid his arm around her waist and started guiding her back to the grounds crew shed.

  “Don’t you have to keep mowing?” she asked.

  Travis shook his head. “The gearshift’s busted on that mower. I have to go tell Dave anyway.”

  They strolled together over the flat green desert grass. Celeste rested her head on Travis’s arm. He took her hand and laced his fingers through hers. “Hey, let’s take a lunch break and go get some food,” he said.

  Celeste hesitated. “Well, I’m not really supposed to take lunch until one….” She stopped when she saw the laugh lines around Travis’s mouth.

  “Oh, you’re having lunch with me,” he said, his face splitting into a grin. “Right now. I’m kidnapping you for turkey sandwiches.” In one movement, he scooped Celeste up in a fireman’s carry and started trotting down the path. She shrieked, laughing hysterically, and beat on his back with her fists.

  “Okay, okay, I surrender! I’ll let you feed me,” she yelled. She felt her foot hit something soft at the side of the path.

  “Ooof!” someone said. Travis twirled around with Celeste still over his shoulder.

  “Hey, sorry,” Celeste heard him saying.

  “Travis!” she whispered. “Put me down!”

  He set her on her feet. Dave was standing in the middle of the path. Celeste hastily tried to tuck some of the hair back into her braids.

  “Travis, I was just coming to find all of you guys,” Dave said, wiping his hands on a rag. “Mr. Tippen’s called an all-staff meeting for tonight. He wants to see everyone in the staff lounge after hours, nine o’clock. And, Celeste, there’s a room service request that asked for you specifically.”

  Celeste felt the smile drop slowly off her face. She sighed and nodded. “Okay, Dave. I’ll get right on it.” So much for the brief escape. Back to Pinyon life.

  Chapter Six

  Celeste!”

  Celeste heard her name over the murmur of the packed staff room and whipped her head around. Through the rows of Pinyon employees, she could see Nick’s arm waving from the first row. Celeste halted. Was he insane? Travis was standing right next to her! What was he doing at a staff meeting anyway? She glanced up at Travis. His eyebrows were raised but he wasn’t saying anything…at least, not yet.

  “Uh, here, Travis, you want to sit here?” Celeste pointed randomly at two chairs. If they sat down, they wouldn’t be able to see Nick smirking at them.

  “Everyone, everyone! Your attention, please.” Dad was standing at the front. Celeste felt her phone buzz in her pocket and slid it out. Devon was texting her. Celeste kept one eye on her father and pressed read. CAN’T MAKE STAFF MTG—HANGING OUT W/STEFAN. TAKE NOTES 4 ME!

  Celeste stuffed her phone into her pocket. Great. Now she didn’t even have Devon for moral support. At the front of the room, Dad had started talking.

  “I’ve called this all-staff meeting to discuss an important and exciting event that is going to take place at the resort this summer, and which will require the help and cooperation of everyone here.”

  Celeste wondered what the heck her father could be talking about. Maybe they were finally going to install that infinity pool he’d always wanted. Except why would they do that in the middle of the high season? Maybe someone famous was coming to stay, like George Clooney or something.

  “Many of you may know Larry Saunders and his wife, Kathy. They are not only longtime guests and dear friends of Pinyon, they are also movie producers with Blue Swan Productions in Los Angeles. Larry believes that Pinyon has a lot to offer his most recent venture—a new film festival held”—he paused dramatically—“right here at Pinyon Ranch!”

  Everyone gasped, and whispers and murmurs ran through staff. Then Rick started applauding, followed by the rest of the staff. Mr. Saunders took the floor, giving details about when the festival would be, how many days it would last, and what kinds of parties were planned for the different films, but Celeste barely heard him. Holding a festival would mean that every guesthouse would be packed, and not just with average rich folks from L.A. Instead, they’d get all the Hollywood types: producers, directors, stars, and all of their guests. This was the kind of event that could move Pinyon from a minor player on the A-list to the very top. Basically, this festival was going to be the best thing to happen to the resort in its entire existence. And, she realized, a ton of work.

  Celeste’s dad stood up at the front again. “Thank you, everyone, for your patience. Enjoy your evening.”

  There was a general scraping of chairs and chattering as everyone got up and started collecting their things. Celeste turned to her boyfriend, but before she could say anything she noticed with dismay that Nick was making his way through the crowd over to them.

  “Uh, Travis!” she said suddenly. “Hey, look, Rick’s waving at us. Let’s go see what he’s up to tonight.” She grabbed Travis’s muscular forearm and tried to pull him toward the door.

  “Isn’t this awesome news, Celeste?” Solomon, the cook, bobbed up in front of them, a grin stretching his broad face.

  Celeste tried to do a feint around him. “Yeah! Yes! It’s totally cool, Solomon. Very exciting.” She could see Nick’s blond head getting closer.

  “Hold on, Cel. I dropped my keys,” Travis said. He bent over to retrieve them as Nick bounded up. Trapped, Celeste stood helpless.

  “Hey, beautiful,” Nick said. He was wearing a slim gray T-shirt that clung to his wiry shoulders, and his blond hair was falling into his eyes as usual. Travis froze, his back to them. Slowly, he turned around. Celeste winced. She could already see the warning vein starting to throb in the middle of hi
s forehead. Celeste stepped in front of him. “Hi,” she said in what she hope was a friendly but politely distant voice. “This is my, uh, boyfriend. Travis.”

  Nick didn’t even glance at Travis. Instead, he fixed his eyes on Celeste’s face. “I’m really glad you’re going to be here to help with the festival, Celeste,” he said, dropping his voice a little and putting his hand on her shoulder. She could feel his breath on her cheek and stepped backwards suddenly, almost stumbling over one of the folding chairs. Unbelievable—was he actually flirting with her right here?

  She heard Travis make a rumbling noise next to her, kind of like a bull clearing this throat. She darted a quick glance at his face. The vein was going into throbbing overdrive now and his dark eyes looked almost black. Not a good sign. Defuse, Celeste! Defuse!

  She reached down deep and pulled up the most plastic Pinyon customer service smile she could muster, the one born of ten solid years dealing with difficult guests. “Yeah, the festival’s going to be great,” she said smoothly. No one would ever have guessed her hands were shaking worse than a heroin addict’s. “We’re lucky to have your parents sponsoring it. They’re amazing.”

  Travis let out another bull rumble. Celeste switched into high gear.

  “Okay! Well, we’re heading out, so see you later, Nick.” She turned and grabbed Travis with the intention of shoving him toward the door with all the strength in her body.

  “I’m mostly glad because I want you to help me plan my screening party for the festival,” Nick said smoothly. Celeste stopped and turned around again slowly.

  There was a moment of dead silence. “Ah, what do you mean, your party?” Celeste asked carefully.

  “You know, for my film.” Nick stuffed his hands in his pockets and blinked innocently.

  Travis spoke for the first time. “What are you talking about?” His gruff voice was decidedly confrontational. Celeste winced. But Nick acted like Travis had just asked him to hang out sometime.

  “I took this elective film studies course at UCLA last winter and the final project was making our own short films—writing, directing, editing, everything. My dad told me I could throw a screening party during the festival. But I’ve got to do all the organizing and planning myself, and you know, I’m not very good at that stuff. That’s why I’m really looking forward to us working together, Celeste.” He fixed his gaze on her again as if she were the only person in the room and gave her a small smile. The rumbling bull that was her boyfriend took a step forward. Oh crap.

  Celeste narrowed her eyes. “Whatever, Nick. Obviously, someone in guest relations will assist you with your planning.” She tried to make her voice as frosty as possible.

  “Good,” Nick replied, apparently unfazed. “I’ll definitely need help—your help.” He offered them a relaxed grin. “Excuse me.” Celeste stepped aside as he brushed past, but he still managed to rub right up against her, his arm trailing against the small of her back. Suddenly, Travis let out a growl and lunged for Nick.

  “Travis!” Celeste dove for his arm and hung on to it with all her body weight. Nick was casually ambling away down the aisle like nothing had happened. She clung to Travis’s arm and gazed up at his face. He was breathing like a diesel truck and his whole face was bright red, except for the edges of his nostrils, which were white. He looked down at her and took a deep breath. She leaned up against him. “You want to come for a walk? I need some air.”

  He nodded, and together they made their way through the emptying room and pushed out the door into the cool desert night. The quiet grounds were full of dark shadows, and their feet left silvery footprints in the cool, dewy grass. A half-moon floated in the black sky overhead.

  Travis took Celeste’s hand and swung it back and forth as they walked. His good humor seemed to have been restored now that he was removed from Nick’s presence.

  “Must be nice to get your own screening party just because your rich dad is throwing a film festival, huh?” he said.

  “Yeah,” Celeste agreed. To herself, she thought about what might be possible if she had some big-time New York editor father. Forget writing workshops in the Berkshires. She’d be straight on to an internship at Harper’s. Goodbye family business, goodbye towel-folding, hello real job.

  “You know,” she said slowly. “I wouldn’t even know what to do with myself, working someplace other than here. I’ve never even had a real job.” She’d never actually said that out loud before.

  “Hmmm?” Travis was watching a couple splashing in the pool as they passed. “What did you say?”

  “Nothing.”

  Travis looked down at her. “No, really, what did you say?”

  She took a deep breath. “I said that I’ve lived in this Pinyon bubble, like, my whole life. What’s going to happen to me when I finally escape?”

  Travis looked confused. He shook his head. “I don’t get it. What do you mean, what’s going to happen? You’ll just leave, like everyone else.”

  Celeste shook her head. “No, you don’t get it—”

  Travis interrupted her by sliding an arm around her waist and pulling her close. He bent his head down to hers, but she drew away.

  “What?” he said.

  “Someone could come by,” she whispered, gesturing around them. As if on cue, a man in a suit with the tie pulled down came around the corner and glanced at them curiously before disappearing into the lounge. A burst of voices and music floated out to them as he opened the door.

  Travis looked impatient. “Well, then let’s go hang out on the golf course. No one’s going to be out there at ten o’clock.”

  “Okay,” Celeste started to agree, and then an idea hit her. “Hey, you want to see my secret spot?”

  Travis shrugged. “Sure.”

  Together, they tramped over the manicured grass of the golf course, past a pond and a sand trap until they reached the other side, where the desert plants still grew wild and tangled. She glanced around once and, seeing no one, bent down and pushed through a huge stand of prickly bushes. “Hey!” Travis whispered. “I can’t get in there.”

  “No, you can,” Celeste answered. “It’s not as thick as it looks.” She held the branches apart and peered through the opening at Travis. “Come on!”

  He looked doubtful but bent down and climbed through, trying not to get snagged on the twigs. Once inside, he looked around. “This is cool!” he exclaimed.

  “Yeah, I know,” Celeste said. Though it only looked like a scrubby tangle from the outside, the bushes actually surrounded a perfect circle of closely spaced palmetto trees, making a thick screen so that no one could see in from the outside. In the middle of the scaly trunks was warm, smooth sand lying in ripples. Celeste sank down onto her knees. The air was warm and still and the sand felt like silk against her bare legs. She looked up at Travis, still standing above her. “Come here,” she said, reaching up and tugging at his hand.

  Awkwardly, he thumped to his knees next to her.

  Suddenly, an idea flashed through Celeste’s mind. “Look, don’t worry about Nick,” she said, squeezing Travis’s hand. “Devon is the guest relations rep. That means she should have to deal with the whole party situation, not me. I’ll just tell her that’s one of her new assignments. She’ll love it. And Nick can have a great new target for his obnoxiousness too. I wouldn’t be surprised if we barely see him again all summer.”

  Travis shrugged. “I don’t care what happens, as long as he stays away from you,” he said. Then he leaned over and wrapped his arms around her. She shivered at the friction of his skin against hers. He kissed her slowly and she felt a little jolt of electricity run all through her. The stubble on his chin rasped against her skin. The stress of the meeting began to float away. It was just her and Travis now, floating together on a bed of soft, warm kisses that were making her body go all limp and—

  Travis drew his head away.

  “What?” Celeste asked, her eyes still closed. “Is someone coming?”

  �
�Are you sure there’s never been anything between you guys?” Travis asked. Celeste opened her eyes. “Because he sure acts like he’s more than just a customer.”

  Poof. The bed of warm kisses disappeared. Celeste shifted her knees. There was a palmetto frond poking her in the back. “Look, don’t worry about it,” she soothed, reaching for Travis again. “I’m sure once he meets Devon, everyone will get along a lot better.”

  For a long moment, Travis didn’t reply. “Okay,” he finally said. “But that doesn’t mean I have to like him.” He lay back on the sand, pulling Celeste down with him.

  As she lay in her boyfriend’s arms, staring at the black velvet night sky above them, Celeste thought that she might as well forget about towel-folding for this summer. Obviously, she had a much more important job in front of her: stopping Travis from bashing Nick’s face in. And stopping Nick from acting like she was standing in front of him naked. Oh yeah, and keeping the Saunders family happy, at peril to her life. Maybe she should’ve taken a job as secretary of defense this summer. It would probably be easier than this.

  Chapter Seven

  Okay, I’m ready!” Celeste called, hanging upside down by her knees from a low tree branch. Her braids almost brushed the ground. “Hurry up, Travis, all the blood is rushing to my head.” She could feel the scaly branch pressing into the backs of her knees as she gazed at the inverted golf course.

  The mid-afternoon sun was bright and glassy. The contrast between the green of the golf course and the brilliant blue of the sky almost hurt to look at. A few lone golfers were trailing across the seventh hole, but Celeste and Travis were safely hidden in the scrub on the far side. No one would come over here unless he or she was a spectacularly bad golfer.

  “Hold still,” Travis said, aiming the camera. “All right, got it.” He pressed a few buttons and studied the shot. “Cute. You look hot with your face all red and squished up like that.”

 

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