by J Q Anderson
Marc rakes both hands through his hair. He looks lost. Then he opens the door wider so I can come in. But I don’t.
I have no intention to come in.
“What the hell, Marc?” I mutter.
“It’s not what it looks like,” he has the nerve to say. “I mean, it is, but I can explain.”
“Explain?” I let out a humorless chuckle.
He exhales a sharp breath. “It doesn’t mean anything, Nati. I’m in love with you. This just… Shit.” He presses his forehead against the edge of the door.
I hate it when guys say that when they get caught cheating. ‘It didn’t mean anything.’ Because it does.
“It means everything, Marc. It means you are a cheating, fucking lying son of a bitch. I want nothing to do with you. Ever.” I whip around and rush down the steps to the street. He catches up with me and grips my arm. I yank it off and give him a murderous glare. He lets go.
“Please, Nati. Please don’t go. Let’s talk about this.”
“I don’t want to fucking talk to you. Ever again,” I snarl. Tears fill my eyes and spill. My words make him take a step back. He’s looking at me with a mix of regret and desperation.
“Please. I don’t want you to leave. We can go somewhere else and talk.”
“No.” I turn around and set off toward the street.
“Nati, please.” He is following me and for the first time I notice he’s wearing boxers under his shirt and he’s barefoot. I hope he steps on a rusted nail. “Will you stop?”
I whip around. “Get the fuck away from me.”
“Where are you going?”
“Back to the fucking airport.”
“Nati. Please. It’s late. Just… wait until tomorrow.”
“Fuck you, Marc. I hope you and butt-lips are fucking happy together.”
“Goddammit, Nati. Fucking stop for a second so we can have a proper conversation about this.” He snatches my elbow and I try to shake him off, but he’s gripping me hard.
“Let go,” I snap.
“Stop walking,” he growls.
“What seems to be the problem?” A cop steps out of a deli. He’s looking at Marc under a frown. His eyes dart down, taking in his half-dressed appearance, then stop on the hand that is gripping my elbow.
“Everything okay, ma’am?” His eyes are now on me. I look at Marc with flared nostrils and I almost smile. Fuck you, asshole.
“No. I need a taxi.” I lock eyes with the cop and he nods once, then looks at Marc.
“I sure hope you have somewhere else to be, or you will get a free ride to the station.”
Marc lets go of me and shakes his head. His eyes search mine. “We need to talk.”
“I don’t need to talk to you. I need a taxi to the airport.”
The cop gives Marc a pointed look and he turns around, looking defeated. I watch his cheating ass retrieve and my throat thickens. I don’t want to cry in front of the cop. He will feel bad and may not want to let me go, and right now I need to be in a fucking plane that will take me away from Marc and this hollow city with no soul.
“Are you okay? Was that man bothering you?”
I shake my head. “No. I just want to get a taxi, please.”
He eyes me warily and waits until a cab drives by, then hails it. As I slide in he tells me to take care and I thank him.
Life is laughing at me from above because there are no departing flights to Aspen until tomorrow morning. I walk to a sitting area and curl up in a corner, pulling my knees up. I feel numb. Cold from the inside. I vaguely wonder if this is all a nightmare and Dani is about to shake me awake.
I miss Dani and Zack.
My phone rings and I turn it off when I see Marc’s name on the screen. I hope he fucking burns in cheaters’ hell.
I close my eyes and think about Jake and how ironic it is that it was I who felt sorry for him. I now realize how much wiser his theory is. If I hadn’t put myself out there, if I hadn’t trusted Marc, this wouldn’t have happened. Tango’s voice barges in my thoughts ‘You can’t outsmart getting hurt, Princess.’ He always called me Princess. I start to cry, pressing my forehead to my knees to force the cutting memory away. I haven’t felt this alone since that day. The day I found out Tango had left me alone in this shell of a world. I miss him.
I walk around the airport and fall asleep a couple of times in the waiting areas by the gates, but the seats are rigid and uncomfortable.
By the time my flight boards at five in the morning I am exhausted. I turn my phone back on, knowing Marc will most likely be asleep and won’t call me. I have a few voicemails and seventeen text messages from him, most of them starting with ‘Please’ and ‘Sorry.’ I delete them without reading them. Dani also sent a text asking how my reunion with Marc went. I shake my head. She’ll be thrilled when I tell her Marc is a lying cheating prick and she gets to say ‘I told you so.’
I am asleep before we take off and the last image I see in my head is Jake smiling.
Chapter 12: Jake
The bartender at the Cardiff Shack slides me a beer and I raise my glass for a toast with my contractor. All the plans have been approved and this afternoon the landlord and I signed the rest of the paperwork. The property for the surf shop is now mine. I can’t help the grin on my face and the first thought that comes to my mind is Natalia. I want to tell her. I know she’ll be happy for me. I dismiss the thought and take a long swig of cold beer.
Two hours later I am back at Pete’s house. He and I became friends when we both made the National team during my water polo days. Pete is married to Sydney, another retired water polo athlete and they have a baby. They live in Cardiff and own a small club in Del Mar where Pete coaches young athletes. He’s asked me to work with him many times. My gold medal is a great marketing tool for his club and I know it would be fun, but my chosen profession as a male escort could be a liability for Pete and I don’t want to bring that on him and Sydney. Pete knows what I do and says he doesn’t care, and although I kind of love him for that, I’d rather not put him at risk. He’s convinced me to run short clinics now and then, and in exchange I get to crash at his house whenever I come to San Diego.
“If you move to Cardiff, I’m S.O.L., Jake. Does that mean I’ll have to start paying you for the winter clinics?” He laughs.
“No. I have fun doing it. Brings back good memories.”
“Yeah, it does.” He grins. “Too bad you can’t tap into my club for new clients. There are so many divorcés. Pisses Syd off sometimes. They’re ruthless.” He shakes his head.
I laugh. “You better look out man, that’s how I started.”
“I wish.” He grins. “I’d be making money instead of breaking even. So how’s it all going to work out now that you are a legitimate business owner?” He smirks.
“I’m actually thinking about retiring.”
“Right.”
“I’m serious.”
He gives me a long look.
“I can’t do this forever, Pete. Besides, it’s starting to get old. Women get clingy after a while and I feel like an asshole every time I’m forced to face them with the fact that what we have is nothing more than a business transaction.”
Pete whistles through his teeth and shakes his head.
“What?” I frown.
“What’s her name?” He watches me like he just figured out my magic trick. Pete is the only person I can talk to openly. He doesn’t judge and has no filter when it comes to giving his opinion, which I like and respect about him. But in this moment I fucking hate that he can see right through me. I hang on to my pride and pretend.
“Whose name?”
He grins and shakes his head. “Wow, Jake. I never thought I’d see the day when a chick grounded you. Tell me her fucking name, man.”
I shrug. “Doesn’t matter. She’s engaged.”
“Ouch.”
“Yeah.” I sigh. “I’ve never met anyone like her, though. She’s fun, but witty and kind of jagged at t
imes. Street smart, too, and you should see her playing poker.”
“Shit, dude.” He laughs. “This is serious.”
I look up at him and realize that for the first time in my life I just admitted out loud that I’m genuinely interested in someone. Pete is watching me with amusement, having come to the same realization.
“What are you going to do?” he asks.
I look up and lock eyes with him.
“Fight.”
Chapter 13: Natalia:
It is mid morning by the time I get back to the lodge. Dani is most likely at the gym or skiing. I scurry in, keeping my head down as I follow the hallway to my room. It is empty and I am relieved. I go to the bathroom to brush my teeth and flinch when I look in the mirror. My eyes are swollen and red-rimmed and there are streaks of dry mascara on my cheeks. And the Oscar for most pathetic goes to… Natalia Prinz.
I pull a sweatshirt over my head then sink into my bed, curling into a ball. Dani wakes me up sometime later when she opens the door to the room and turns the light on.
“Oh, shit. You scared the hell out of me. What are you doing here? I thought you weren’t coming back till tomorrow.”
I groan.
“What happened,” she says in a sharper tone.
I turn around in my bed and look up at her. She is dressed in gym clothes, her arms crossed over her chest.
“Bad trip,” I say.
She erases the distance and sits beside me on the bed. “Tell me. What happened.”
I sit up against the headboard and stare through the window at the snow outside. “A fucking Barbie stuffed with collagen opened Marc’s door wearing only his Roger Daltrey T-shirt.”
“Fucking son of a bitch.” Dani’s eyes narrow as she shakes her head and lets out a sharp breath.
“Yup. That sums it up.”
She pulls me into her arms and squeezes me tight. The thickness in my throat swells again.
“I’m sorry, Natalia.”
“You were right about him, Dani. Now you get to say you told me so.
“No, Nati. I’m a cynic. That doesn’t make me right, just skeptical and untrusting in general. But Marc is a fucking prick.” She pulls me at arm’s length. “This doesn’t change anything for you, right? You are still going on the internship like you planned.”
I shrug. “I don’t know. Maybe. Right now I really can’t think straight. Everything I thought I wanted went to shit, Dani.”
“No. It didn’t. Marc went to shit. The rest of your life is intact. Take a few days to shake this off and keep going. Fuck Marc. You can still do this, Nati.”
I rub my eyes and let her words slip. I am in complete shut-down mode. Nothing penetrates. I guess I will have to think about what this all means later. Right now I just want to go back to sleep. I tell her that and she eyes me for a long moment, then nods.
“Zack and I are going out tonight. Derek has a friend in town and they’re throwing a party.”
“I think I’ll just stay here, Dani. I’m really tired.”
She leaves me be and heads to the shower. When she comes back from her shift a few hours later, it’s past eleven. I can’t believe how much I slept and how tired I still am. Dani insists I go to the party, but I tell her I just want to go back to sleep.
And I do.
I wake up early on Sunday morning. It’s a little past seven and the sun is beginning to stretch behind the mountains. On the desk, my phone shows ten missed calls from Marc and a new list of text messages from him. I turn the power off and toss it on my bed, then peek through the blinds of our small window. The sky is a canvas of pink and indigo. It is really breathtaking. Dani is still asleep and I don’t wake her, knowing she probably came back only a couple of hours ago. I quietly get into my ski clothes. I pick up my ski boots and hesitate for a moment, contemplating taking them to the dumpster instead. I don’t want anything that reminds me of Marc. But then I decide I won’t let him fuck with my life any more than he already has. The ski boots stay.
Derek is at the lower chair getting ready to open when I show up with my skis on my shoulder. He’s surprised to see me, but smiles.
“Early bird gets the worm. You missed one hell of a poker game last night.”
I give him a small smile. “I figured you needed to grow your savings, Derek.”
His answering grin lights up his whole face. “I did. Liam was sick and Zack pulled out after the first round. I made a hundred bucks.”
“That’s great,” I mumble. “Are you opening this soon?” I say, clipping my boots into my skis.
“Yup. All ready for ya.” He presses a few buttons inside the small cabin and the chair lift comes to life. I wait at the mark, then slide into the seat that approaches.
“Later,” I say, lowering my goggles. He smiles at me and waves, watching me as I get lifted off the base.
The mountain is deserted. As the chair makes its leisure journey to the summit I lean my helmet against the side bar, watching the waking sun gleam on the snow. The valley looks almost like a child’s picture of winter, pine trees covered in new snow underneath white mountain peaks. Once I reach the top I slide off the chair and take a lung full of chilled air. I am the only skier so far and I can’t help thinking that I am as alone and cold out here as I feel inside.
With Marc out of the picture I don’t know what my future will be. Dread swims in my stomach. I know he is feeling like shit and that I should probably do the mature thing by answering his calls so we can talk this through. But I already know there is nothing he can say to change what happened. To me, cheating in a relationship is out of the equation completely. Even if I eventually forgave him, I don’t think I could ever trust him again. And an adult conversation is not going to change the fact that he is a cheating prick. So to hell with that.
The other chair lifts are still not open, so my only option at the moment is to ski down the back of the mountain to the base. It will take a little over an hour and there are several areas where I can find powder. I am craving the physical exertion to derail the weight in my chest.
As I go down the second black diamond, I am faced with the Women’s Downhill run. I stop at the top and watch the snow disappear behind a steep narrow path downhill and into the first sharp turn. I stare at it for a long moment, my panting breaths coming out in broken vapor. My hands grip the poles and I clench my teeth, then squeeze my eyes shut as the panic churns in my stomach, raising in a cold chill up my back. Dammit.
Once again it beats me. And I can’t.
I push myself off to the side and cut across the trail, leaving the Women’s Downhill and the sour memories from that night, behind.
By the time I make it back to the base my legs are shaking. I welcome the sensation and drop onto a bench by the employee entrance to catch my breath. I remove my helmet and gloves and unbuckle my ski boots. My hair is stuck to my face with sweat and my face is wet from the melting snow I picked up on the way down. I lean back on the wall and let the burn in my muscles expand. Shane steps out of the lodge and lights up a cigarette. Fuckdammit. These guys and their smokes. He turns and takes in my appearance, frowning.
“Did you just come back from the top?”
I answer with a nod.
“Shit. Take it easy. You look like you dove straight into the powder.”
I shrug. “It was fun.”
“How fast were you going? The base hasn’t been open that long.”
“I don’t know. See you later.” I push myself off the bench and the muscles in my legs scream when I reach down for my helmet and gloves. Shane watches me leave, shaking his head.
I ask Lane if I can take my shift back. I’ll go crazy without work to keep me busy. I tell her I’ll still work Monday and Tuesday like we agreed and will switch my days off with another girl. She seems happy with the new arrangement. I consider going to the pool, but the idea of being in that death trap by myself depresses me, so I go over to the tubing area and help Melanie and Jessica, who I know will welc
ome a change in their routine. They take turns getting hot chocolate while I look after their station, selling overpriced tickets to a group of rich teens.
That night my shift is a blur. I just zombie through it. Dani rescues me a couple of times when she realizes I’ve mixed up two of the orders. Zack is already up to speed with the Marc situation, compliments of Dani. Most of the time Zack is like well water. His emotions are secured behind the iron front he puts up. But I know better. Behind that front is a mercurial temper and anyone that pisses Zack off doesn’t do it a second time. Marc is the newest member of his shit list. Zack shakes his head as he fills my drink order.
“What I wouldn’t give to get my hands on that fucker,” he mutters.
“That’s sweet of you, Zack. But let’s just… not talk about it, okay? Keep me distracted.” I force a smile and after a long pause he gives me a nod.
A group dressed in ski clothes slides into a table in my section. They are peeling off their jackets and gear, shaking off the helmet hairdos. I pick up my tray and head in their direction to take their order. One of the girls has her arm around a guy’s neck and she leans over for a kiss. I have to look away, because right now watching a couple happily in love makes me want to hit someone. For all I know the guy she’s kissing is a cheater, like Marc. Jesus. I’m starting to sound like those women who think all men are bastards. Even though at the moment I think most of them are.
As they order their drinks, one of the guys appraises me so bluntly you’d think I’m naked. I want to swat him with my tray, but I refrain because I need my job more than ever, so I ignore him.
I return with the drinks and the same guy tries to get my attention, asking me if I know what the best night time runs are. I tell him I have no idea, even though I know the mountain like the back of my hand. Screw him. He’s probably a cheater, too. Crap, I am angry. Maybe a day off from work wouldn’t be a bad idea if I don’t want to get fired.
They order appetizers and I let them know I’ll be back shortly. Luckily my other tables are just a group of women and two older couples.