“Hello, Dad.”
I pull out a chair and sit down heavily. The low gruff timbre of his voice and the way he says my name breaks my heart a little.
“I miss you, Dad.”
“Bug, why are you doing this?” he sighs. “Everyone is worried about you. When are you coming home?”
“Dad, what have you done with the vial of water I gave you?”
I clench my hand into a fist, pressing my nails into the heel of my hand. Please say you did the right thing, I plead silently. Please don’t leave this all up to me.
“David destroyed it.”
My heart sinks.
“If you understood what this means for that part of the mountain, I think you’d change your mind. You know it’s our responsibility to make sure that nothing we do has a negative impact on the environment. We have contracts with the state government, Dad. This is really serious.”
He doesn’t say anything and for a moment I think he might actually be listening to me.
“There are heavy metals in that water that are coming from one of the mines. They will eliminate any aquatic life and destroy the habitat of millions of birds. Daddy,” I whisper as tears fill my eyes. “We don’t even own that land, and we’re destroying it. Please.”
But all I can hear on the other end is my father clearing his throat like he’s about to make his argument in court. And I know the battle is lost.
“There are two samples missing from the lab,” he snarls. “I would like them back.”
I look down at a folded newspaper sitting on the table and see that Crew has completed the crossword. He’s drawn a surprisingly good sketch of a seagull above it, its wings outstretched and a fish caught in its mouth by the tail.
“I can’t do that.”
“Twin Heads isn’t that far from Jefferson. I can have someone pick them up if that makes it easier for you.”
He hears me take a sharp intake of breath and chuckles.
“I wanted to give you some time to do this on your own, but I’m losing patience Bug. Look, leave Preston if you want. Go and live in some working-class fishing village if you want. But those samples are my property, and I need them back.”
“And if I don’t give them to you?” I snap, “then what? Are you going to send David around here to bully me into being a good little girl who always does what she’s told?”
He’s quiet for a moment, and it gives me time to recognize that my heart is hammering away in my chest, and my breath is coming far too fast.
“Let’s not be unpleasant, Hartley,” he chides, “I think you’ll find that you’ll come to the right decision, all on your own. But,” he adds coldly, “don’t take too long.”
I open my mouth to say something back, but the line goes dead.
By the time my phone lights up again I’ve cleaned every window and mopped all of the floors. My bed has new linen, fresh from a bag that Crew unearthed this morning from behind the sofa, and there’s a new pile of fluffy lemon and lavender colored towels piled on the chair in my bathroom. He would be proud, I think, if only he could come and see it. I quickly get changed into a pair of skinny jeans and throw a chunky blue scarf around my neck and then braid my hair. I even have time to put on a little bit of makeup. I’m sifting around in a purse for a lip-gloss I know is in there somewhere when I see my phone flashing from the corner of my eye. Tomorrow morning, I’m buying a new one. I press the button, expecting something from David or my dad but instead it’s a number I don’t recognize. The message reads, I’m outside. For a second, I wonder if it could be from Dad, but I quickly dismiss it. There’s no way they could have made it to Twin Heads so quickly. Unless, I think as my stomach drops a little, they’re already here. I walk over to the window and pull back the curtain. Thank God. It’s just Crew’s black Jeep parked outside my gate.
“Packing took less time than I thought,” he smiles as I open the car door and climb in. It’s old and worn inside but spotlessly clean. When he left this morning his dark skin, disheveled hair and the shadow of facial hair across his jaw made him look sexy and roguish. Now he’s changed into a pair of worn jeans and a gray t-shirt that looks so soft I wish I were wearing it myself. His face is freshly shaven, and his hair is pushed off his face. His eyes are greener than green.
“You didn’t need to pick me up. I would have been there in half an hour anyway.”
“I know,” he says and reaches over to grab my hand. “It’s a bit pathetic. But I kind of missed you.”
My eyebrows shoot up, and he smiles and shrugs his shoulders.
“I don’t remember giving you my number.”
“I know. I got sick of waiting, so I just took it. Do you want to take a drive first?”
I laugh and settle myself back in the seat.
“A drive sounds great.”
Crew starts the engine and reaches over my chest, pulling the seatbelt and clicking it into the lock. He smells incredible. Like soap and spice.
“Sorry,” he sighs, “you can probably take care of that yourself.”
He meets my eyes briefly and then quickly looks away.
I pick up his hand and kiss it before pressing it gently against my heart.
“So,” I say as we drive to the other end of my street, and then turn in the direction of town. “I spoke to my dad today.”
Crew nods thoughtfully but doesn’t take his eyes off the road.
“How did that go?”
I lean my head back and look over at him. “Not well.”
His jaw clenches but he stays quiet, waiting for me to continue.
“He’s pretty angry with me. I don’t think there’s any chance of us having a normal relationship now.” I whisper the last words and close my eyes. I think I’m really saying them to myself. Crew’s hand settles on my thigh.
“I’ve also been getting a lot of these,” I mumble as I pull my phone out of my pocket and hit the messages button. Crew glances down quickly and his other hand grips the steering wheel, hard.
“I think I need to have a word with David,” he says, his voice like ice.
“It’s ok. He’s all talk.”
I hope he’s all talk. There were a few messages I deleted as soon as I read them. They were too awful to keep.
“I’m getting a new phone in the morning,” I say, trying to lighten the atmosphere in the car, which is now tense and thick with suppressed anger.
Crew doesn’t say anything but he does take his hand off my leg and suddenly turn the car around, back in the direction of the beach. We drive past new beach houses and small holiday homes that were the first of their kind to be built here in the 1980s. I see a sign pointing to the cliff road and look over at him. He’s gripping the steering wheel, but it can’t stop me from seeing that his fingers are trembling. He hesitates at the intersection for a moment, looking up the street towards The Point and then slowly turns the corner. As we snake our way up above the cliffs, he keeps his eyes fixed straight ahead and says nothing. He doesn’t look when we pass two white crosses on the side of the road. When we finally make it to the top, he parks outside the Lighthouse Café and opens his door. I look out at the observation deck at the rows of telescopes. We’re back where we started.
“Come on,” he says as he opens my door. I jump out and follow him to the railing, my braid picking up in the breeze.
I’m thinking about whether he’ll lift me up onto those stools and kiss me again, but I know it’s a false hope because it’s obvious to me and just about anyone within a ten foot radius that he’s in a very, very bad mood.
“Hey,” I say quietly, stepping forward to wrap my arms around his waist. “What’s going on?”
He looks down, and his face softens slightly.
“Do you have copies of those messages?”
“You mean other than the ones on my phone?”
He nods.
“No. Should I have?”
He nods his head. “Yeah, you should. Can you give your phone to me for a few days? There’s a g
uy who works for me who can take care of it. I’ll get him to send it back to you when he’s done.”
I pass him the phone, and he puts it into the back pocket of his jeans.
“Tell your guy that he can keep it.”
Crew looks out over my head to the ocean and pulls me closer.
“I can’t leave you here alone now, kid.”
I pull back a little and look up into his eyes.
“I’ll be fine. Eleanor is around the corner if I need anything. Don’t worry about me.”
“Hartley, I know guys like David. I grew up around them. See that big white house up there?”
He points at a sprawling cliff top mansion above the lighthouse. It’s all glass and stone, and the front of it juts out over the edge of the escarpment.
“That’s where I grew up. I know rich guys. They don’t like the word ‘no’.”
“Hang on,” I say, “why do you assume David has money?”
He smiles at me indulgently and tucks a curl behind my ear.
“Just some of the things you’ve said. The way your parents picked him for you to be your ‘tennis partner’. And you said your family owns a big company. I’m guessing they didn’t handpick the local plumber’s son to be their daughter’s boyfriend.”
“Ok,” I sigh, “but I really don’t believe that David would hurt me. He’s not that kind of person.”
Crew looks down at me like he really doesn’t believe a word I’m saying.
“How do you feel about South America?”
I pull away from his arms and take a step backward so that I’m leaning against the railing.
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m inviting you to come with me. Tonight. Look,” he says when he sees the panicked look on my face. “You can stay for as long as you want. You can come back if you don’t like it, and you’ll have your own cabin at the resort. It might give your dad time to cool off, and you’ll have some space to think about what you want to do next.”
This is insane. I have no idea what to say.
“Just think about it over lunch,” he smiles as he throws an arm around my shoulders. “I hope you like tamales.”
Chapter Twenty One
Crew
“Oh my God,” she sighs, “how did you learn to cook like that?”
I reach over the kitchen island and take her plate.
“When I lived with my grandmother in Costa Rica I made her give me some lessons.”
She looks out past the dining room to the floor to ceiling windows that face the beach.
“This place is amazing. Have you owned it for long?”
“A few years,” I shrug. “But I don’t spend much time here.”
She looks across to the big empty living room and her eyes settle on the long brown leather sofa. It’s the only piece of furniture in the room other than a lamp Jake gave me as a housewarming present.
“Where’s all of your stuff?”
“This is it. It’s not really home; it’s more like a place to crash when I’m visiting.”
“Hmm,” she says, looking at me carefully. She hops off the stool and walks up to the windows.
“This view is beautiful,” she breathes and then suddenly jumps back.
“What is it?”
“Can they see us?”
She points to two men dragging a boat over the ridge of the dunes. They’ve stopped where my lawn meets the sand, and as we look at them, they turn to face the house and point up at the windows.
I walk behind her and lift her braid off her shoulder so that I can slowly kiss the side of her neck. She shivers and tries to squirm away, but I’ve wrapped an arm around the front of her shoulders so that her back is pressed up against me.
“Crew!” she hisses, “those guys are looking!”
I smile into her hair and tighten my grip a little, before taking her earlobe gently between my teeth.
“Relax kid,” I laugh when her breathing hitches and she suddenly becomes still against my chest. “It’s one-way glass.”
“Very funny,” she says and elbows me softly in the stomach. “Are you going to give me the tour?”
I take her through the living room and down the stairs to the indoor pool and gym, then back up two floors to the spare bedrooms. When she opens the doors and sees that they’re completely empty, she sighs a little and bites her lip. Next, I take her up the final flight of stairs to the master bedroom. It’s set at the front of the house facing the sea, and because we’re up high, we can see the entire bay from the windows that line one wall. Like the other rooms, there isn’t much in here. She walks around slowly, looking quickly at the bed and then down at my rucksack on the floor. We didn’t talk about her coming to Venezuela with me over lunch. But I can tell she’s thinking about it. I don’t want to push her because I get the feeling she has enough people in her life telling her what to do already. But I also know that if she tells me she’s not coming, I’m not going to be able to leave her in Twin Heads alone. I’m thinking of the names of some security guys I know when she looks towards the doorway on the other side of the room.
“What’s in there?”
“The bathroom. Come on, I’ll show you. It’s nothing special, though,” I smile.
Not like yours.
She peeks around the corner and takes in the black tile and the double shower that takes up one end of the room. It’s typically modern and masculine, probably exactly what she was expecting, and now that I’m conscious of it I realize that this room looks unlived in and soulless too.
“Well,” she says as she cocks an eyebrow and turns to look at me. “It’s certainly a boy’s bathroom.”
I take a step forward so that I’m right in her space and her eyes widen a little. She thinks I’m going to kiss her. And of course I think about it, because God, she’s gorgeous, and she’s parting her lips slightly in anticipation. But instead I lean down and place my mouth right against her ear and whisper,
“The heart shaped bath will be here soon.”
She smiles at that, but says nothing, and walks past me back into the bedroom.
“How do you sleep in here with so much glass?”
I hit the button next to the bed, and the blinds begin to lower. A second later and we’re in complete darkness.
“This is like the black out at The Sea Shack again,” she murmurs and for a second I think about filling the room with candles just for her.
I can hear her make her way carefully around the bed in the dark, and then suddenly her fingertips brush my arm.
“Hi,” she whispers, and it’s husky and soft and just about the sexiest thing I think I’ve ever heard.
“Hi.”
Her fingers travel up my arm and over my shoulder until they come to rest at the base of my throat. I swallow hard against her hand. She moves it down, tracing my collarbones with her fingertips and then presses her palm flat against my chest.
“Your heart is racing.”
I lift my hand and place it on the small of her back, but she gently picks it up and puts it back by my side. I can’t see anything at all but I can feel the heat coming off her and every now and again her hair tickles the skin on my arms.
“Hartley,” I say, and I can recognize the desperation and longing in my voice. “Let me touch you.”
She rests her forehead against me and shakes her head.
“You smell so nice,” she murmurs into my t-shirt as her hands travel down the sides of my ribs, pressing firmly into all of the ridges with her thumbs. When she gets to the bottom, she tucks her fingers under the hem and then her hands are on my skin. She flattens the palm of one hand against my lower back, and I know she’s trying to find the words written there. A fingernail draws a circle around my belly button, making me laugh despite how much I want her. I can feel her smiling where she’s resting the side of her face on my chest. She continues drawing on me with her fingernail, muttering, “You should probably think about working out a little more,” whe
n she moves up over my stomach. She draws a love heart in the center of my chest and then moves to my nipple, drawing a small circle around it. I take a deep breath and hold it, and she gently kisses me over the top of my t-shirt, whispering, “Don’t forget to breathe,” into the fabric.
“Come with me tonight,” I gasp before I can stop myself and her finger freezes against my skin.
“Are you sure about that?”
Her fingernail, thank God, starts drawing around my nipple again.
“Very, very sure.”
I try to move back from her, but the hand against my back is firm, mirroring the way I held her captive against the windows earlier. By now she must be able to feel how turned on I am. I want her, badly, but there’s something else, too. I think I’m in love with her. I ball my hands into fists at my sides and close my eyes, even though it’s dark. I’m fighting to keep myself under control; the bed is right behind her, and it’s all I can do not to throw her on it. Suddenly my year of celibacy feels like it was a really, really bad idea.
“Ok,” she whispers and moves her hand from my back and up over my stomach to my chest. “I’ll go with you.”
I let out the breath I’ve been holding and wrap my arms around her back. She sighs and her warm breath tickles my skin through the fabric of my t-shirt.
“I’ll need to go home first to get some things. When’s the flight?”
I reluctantly press the button to raise the blinds and light pours into the room. She looks up at me and smiles regretfully. The spell is broken.
“I’ve got a car coming at six. If we go to your place now, we’ll have time for you to pack. The car can get us from there. Wait, do you have your passport?”
She looks a little startled for a second and my heart sinks, but then she smiles brightly and nods.
“Of course. But if I’m going, I insist on paying for my own ticket. I’ll book it, just give me the details.”
She takes her hands out from under my t-shirt, and I immediately want them back there again.
“You don’t need one,” I say, as I pick up my rucksack and throw it over my shoulder. “We’re going on a chartered flight. One of my investors has his own plane, and I pay him an annual fee to use it.”
Still Waters Page 11