Thicker Than Water

by Dylan Allen

  I pull the bathing suit on and immediately see why it won’t work. It’s white, without a lining in the top and I can see my cinnamon colored nipples clearly. I can only imagine how much more transparent it would be if it was wet. But I like the cut, the fit and decide to ask for it in black.

  “Hello, Lila?” I call out.

  When no response comes, I call out one more time. “Of course. Get me in here and abandon me,” I grumble to myself as I step out to see if I can see her.

  I shriek when I see Coco sitting on one of the benches outside of the dressing room. He’s staring at my door and smiles in a way that sends chills up my spine. My hands come up to cover my breasts when his eyes fixate on them and he doesn’t look away.

  “Coco, what are you doing here?” I sputter.

  “You were taking longer than I expected so I came in to look for you. I asked the girl at the front and she said you were in the dressing room. So, I just came here to wait.”

  “Why didn’t you say anything when I called out for her?” I ask as I hop back inside the dressing room and close the door behind me.

  “My name isn’t Lila,” he says with a chuckle.

  Even with the door closed, I feel uncomfortable stripping with him there.

  “That bathing suit looked just right, in my opinion. Step back out, and I’ll take another look,” he drawls when I don’t say anything.

  My heart begins to race and I try to hide the panic I’m feeling when I say, “Can you go see if you can find Lila for me, please?”

  “If you need something, Lu, you can just ask me and I’ll get it for you,” he says in a tone that is full of so much innuendo and suggestion that I feel like he can see through the wood of the door that separates us.

  “That’s okay. Can you just get her, please?”

  He doesn’t respond right away and I’m afraid he’s going to refuse when he says silkily, “No problem. Be right back”

  As soon as I hear his footsteps receding. I rip the swim suit off my body and throw my shorts and T-shirt back on. I leave the dressing room and go back to the rack where I got the swimsuit, grab a black one and then beat a path to the register.

  When I get there, the girl at the register gives me a friendly smile and says, “Did anyone help you with your purchase?”

  “Lila abandoned her station, but I got what I wanted,” I say as I hand her the bathing suit and my debit card. I know I’m being rude, but I just want to get out of there.

  Her smile falls as she takes my card. “But if it doesn’t work, you can’t return it.” All of her earlier friendliness is gone. I’m glad. It makes the transaction go a lot faster when she isn’t making small talk. I’m heading for the door when Coco steps into my path. I stop short of running straight into him.

  “Where’d you go?” he asks, his friendly, affable demeanor back in place.

  I’m not fooled. The way his eyes raked over my body earlier made his real intentions clear. I don’t return his smile. I don’t want him to think that his attention is welcomed.

  “I got what I needed. I just need to run to the grocery store really quickly. I’ll meet you in front in fifteen?” I say as I dash past him.

  “I can take your purchase to the car for you,” he says with his hand held out for my shopping bag. A vision of him sniffing my bathing suit’s crotch flashes into my mind and I clutch the bag closely to my chest.

  “No, thanks! I got it. See you out front.” I turn and practically run out of the store before he can respond.

  When I step into the cool interior of the grocery store, I realize how overheated I am.

  The way Coco looks at me has me freaked out. I’m not what anyone would call beautiful, at least not in this town. I’ve got a little too much meat on my bones to be considered ideal. I’ll never wear a size zero, nor do I want to. I know there is something about my body that men like. I’ve heard the catcalls. I’ve fended off the gropes at stores and in restaurants where I’ve worked. The thought of having to deal with this from Coco every time I need to go somewhere creates a ball of dread in the pit of my stomach.

  Shit. I need to find another driver.

  I speed through the aisles. Grabbing the items on my list without checking to see what’s on sale. And in less than ten minutes I’m out of the store. I think about calling an Uber but decide that would be too dramatic. I’ll just pretend to be on the phone the entire time I’m in the car.

  He’s waiting for me at the curb when I step outside. I pull my phone out and pretend to answer it. He opens the door while I fake a conversation with Jessica and avoid eye contact. Our ten-minute ride home is a special kind of hell. I pretend to talk to Jessica about a trailer I just saw for the new Marvel movie. Every time I glance up, I see Coco watching me through the rear view mirror.

  When we pull up outside my house, I’m ready and have the door open before Coco can come to a complete stop.

  “I have to use the bathroom. See you later!” I call over my shoulder. I sprint up the stairs, open the sliding door and step inside before he can even respond.

  I rush to my bedroom and only then do I let myself indulge in the panic that’s been running riot inside of me. What the fuck was that? Thank goodness I don’t need to leave the estate again for at least a few more days. I’ll send Liza an email in the morning about getting a new driver assigned. I rush into the shower and wash off the feeling left behind from the way Coco looked at me.

  12

  Reece

  I’ve been in LA for the last couple of days. My attempts to keep Lucía out of my mind have turned out to be a total failure. She’s all I’ve been able to think about. I went out for drinks with my three best friends from high school, Oman, Graham and Dave. Not a single woman I saw sparked any interest. I just kept comparing them to her.

  Plus, the email she sent this morning makes me feel guilty for not keeping a closer eye on her.

  “Liza, get operations on the phone and get Lucía Vega a new driver,” I say into my speakerphone. “Already on it, Reece,” she responds. Of course she is. Lucía’s email was addressed to Liza, but she put me on copy. It was only a couple of lines, asking how she could go about getting a new driver assigned. She didn’t say why, but I know my cousin. He’s an asshole, and always has been. I wish my dad would let us fire him. But when my father’s younger brother died, my father promised to take care of his son. And he has.

  He’s only a couple years older than me. When we were kids, we were close. But as we’ve gotten older he’s changed. He’s accused my dad of treating me differently than he treats him. The truth is, when it comes to Artemis, my dad doesn’t mix his personal feelings with the interest of the company. He’s passed me over for promotions before because someone else was better. His actions just made me want to work harder.

  But Coco? It made him angry and he’s acted out in ways that have left my parents up at night worrying and making excuses for him. He’s a shit of a person. I shouldn’t have let him be assigned to her in the first place. I open my email and write to Lucía.

  To: Lucía@Throwawaythekey.com

  From:RCarras@ArtemisFilms.com

  Subject: Your request

  Luc,

  Got your email. I’ve requested a new driver be assigned. He’ll be there this afternoon. Care to tell me why you need a new driver?

  R.

  * * *

  Less than two minutes later, her response pops into my mailbox.

  To: RCarras

  From: Lucía

  Subject: RE: Your request.

  Reece,

  Thanks for the heads up. I’m not trying to get Coco fired, just felt a little uncomfortable. I can tell you more tomorrow during our yoga lesson.

  See ya,

  LV

  * * *

  I respond right away.

  To: Lucía

  From: RCarras

  Subject: Re: re: Your request

  All right 55, I’ll let you off the hook. But tomorrow, we’re swimmi
ng. We’ve had four days of yoga. I need to spend some time in the water. I do have other things to do, but if you need something, I’ll take care of it for you. Coco’s not getting fired, unless what you tell me tomorrow warrants it.

  See you in the morning.

  R

  * * *

  I start to close my browser when another message come through.

  To: RCarras

  From: Lucía

  Subject: Re:re:re Your request.

  What’s 55? I’m not ready to swim. And your yoga isn’t progressing, you need more practice.

  See you tomorrow.

  LV

  * * *

  I chuckle. She’s right that I’m not progressing. I still can’t do that fucking headstand.

  From: RCarras

  To: Lucía

  Subject: Roman numerals.

  LV = 55. You’re more than ready to swim.

  R.

  * * *

  An hour later, she hasn’t responded. But our email exchange has made me want to talk to her some more. I decide I’m going back to Malibu tonight. I pick up the phone and call her.

  She answers on the first ring.

  “Hello?” Her voice is so sultry. Her hello sounds like a “come here.”

  I clear my throat. “Fifty-five, it’s me. Dinner tonight. I’ll pick you up at seven.”

  “Please don’t call me that. It’s weird. And seven o’clock should be fine.”

  “It’s not weird. It’s actually perfect. If that’s how you always sign your name, I’m sure there are a bunch of people who call you that for short.”

  She huffs, but I can tell she’s smiling. “Fine.”

  As I hang up, I feel myself perking up at the thought of seeing her. She’s got me tied in knots. And I’m not sure that I mind anymore.

  At seven on the dot, I knock on Lucía’s front door. I see her come out of her bedroom. I’m holding flowers and when she looks at me and sees them, she smiles widely. She looks gorgeous. Her white dress is sleeveless and shows off her beautiful shoulders. Her silky, golden skin glistens where her breasts swell at the top of the dress and my mouth waters. The dress’s bodice is caught at the waist with a wide white belt that shows off her amazing body. Her hair is shining and her lips are coated in that red lipstick that I think of as her trademark. She’s wearing black open toe heels tonight and her legs look amazing. They’d look even better draped over my shoulders. . .

  When she opens the door, the ocean breeze catches the short lacy skirt of her dress. It billows around her thighs, showing me more of that incredible skin of hers. Her scent is different tonight. All flowery and sultry.

  I can’t seem to remember why I needed to keep my distance from her. Every time I see her, I learn something about her that makes me feel like I’m crazy for not pursuing her.

  “Hey,” I say hoping I don’t sound as hungry for her as I feel. I bend to press a kiss to her cheek. Her hair is floating around her face and I push it back a little to expose her ear and let another kiss land there.

  “Hi,” she breathes back as she sways toward me.

  I step back and hand her the flowers. It’s a bouquet I picked up from the florist on my way here, a cluster of white petals shot through with a verdant leaf. As she brings them to her nose and takes a sniff, I wish I’d gotten her something more vibrant. They pale in comparison to her.

  “These are gorgeous. Thank you.” She smiles up at me, and it’s that smile. The one she gave Sol that day in my office. But, it’s got a little secret behind it tonight, and I can’t help but think of this as my very own.

  She steps aside. “Please, come in.” I look around the house. I notice she’s put little touches of herself into the space. I see a small painting of a girl en pointe in her pink ballet shoes. There are a couple of framed pictures on the dining room table that she’s turned into her workstation. I see her bright red shawl, one that she wears almost every day at the office, hanging on the back of the chair. And there is a row of multi-colored vases on the kitchen counter. She grabs one of them and fills it with water for the flowers.

  “I’m glad you’re making yourself at home,” I say as I walk into the living room.

  She turns to me and looks up at me, her smile a little less bright, but her eyes full of light. “No one has ever bought me flowers before.”

  “That’s a crime.”

  She scoffs quietly, “Hardly. Let me put these in some water before we go. They’ll be so pretty on my dining table.” She grabs one of the multi-colored vases from her counter and fills it with water. She handles the flowers with a gentleness that borders on reverence. “Thank you so much for these.” When she looks at me, her large eyes are luminous and questioning.

  “Lucía…” I’m not sure what I want to say, but drawn by a force that I can’t resist, I take a step closer to her.

  A loud ding sounds from my pocket, and the moment is broken. I pull it out and see that it’s a calendar alert Liza created for our reservation tonight. “We better get going, if we’re going to make it in time for dinner.”

  She sighs and looks like she is about to say something. But she doesn’t. She just grabs her purse and heads out the door.

  Once we’re seated, Lucía twists and turns, taking in the restaurant and ambiance. I’ve been here before. I know the view is amazing, but seeing the excitement in her eyes as she takes it all in makes me feel like I’m seeing it again for the first time.

  The tide is moving to a rhythm that the moon demands. I watch as the waves rise and break in front of us. Then, I look at Lucía who is even more beautiful than the magnificent display of nature that serves as the restaurant’s backdrop. The waitress takes our orders, fills both of our glasses with a delicious California sauvignon blanc and then leaves us alone.

  “So, tell me what happened with Coco,” I ask right away.

  She looks startled, but smiles gamely.

  “He came on to me. And I think it’s best to nip this is in the bud now before something really uncomfortable happens,” she says simply.

  “What do you mean? Did he say something?” My good humor is completely gone.

  She winces a little.

  “No. I mean…I just know when a man is looking at me in a way he shouldn’t. I don’t want things to get any more awkward than they are already.” She squares her shoulders. “I know he’s your cousin. I’m not trying to disparage him.” She sounds defensive. And I don’t like it. I want to nip that in the bud immediately.

  “Hey, you don’t need to explain yourself. Yeah, he’s my cousin but that has nothing to do with knowing the difference between right and wrong.”

  Her shoulders lose some of their tension and realization dawns. “Did you think I was going to ask you for evidence. Or try to defend him?”

  “I don’t know.” She pauses and looks down. Then she looks back up at me and her eyes are full of uncertainty.

  “I want to ask you something, but I’m not sure if it’s a good idea,” she says and she worries her lower lip with her teeth.

  “You can ask me anything.” And I mean it. I’ll answer whatever she asks me, honestly.

  She looks skeptical, but says, “You didn’t say why you wanted to have dinner. It wasn’t exactly an invitation. More like . . . my boss ordering me to have dinner with him.”

  The straightforward question, the unexpectedness of it, catches me by surprise.

  She’s really this innocent. She really doesn’t have an agenda. She has no clue I’m one of the men who is looking at her the way he shouldn’t. “I know I’m not your type.” She says type with air quotes.

  If she knew how untrue that was, she might be afraid. She’s not my type, she’s something much better. I wouldn’t have been able to dream her up if I’d tried. She’s fucking charming. And I’m completely bewitched by her.

  “I can’t read you. I don’t know what you want from me. But I know it’s not just to make this movie. So, if it’s not sex, I don’t know what else it cou
ld be.”

  Oh God, I want so much more than sex from her. I can’t say that to her, at least not yet. So, I answer as honestly as I can.

  “It was an invitation. I’m so used to giving orders that sometimes, I forget to switch it off. But, I want you to know that even if it had been a work invitation, you can say no to me. You’re an employee, not a servant. If something doesn’t sit well with you, tell me.” She nods shyly, but I can see the relief in her eyes.

  “Now, you answer a question for me.” Her look turns wary. “What happened in the past to make you think sex could be the only other thing I want from you?”

  She tents her fingers under her chin, elbows resting on the table. Her eyes are solemn and frank. She swallows hard and then says, “There haven’t been many people who have given me a chance without wanting something in return.”

  “Well, that just proves that the world is full of fools.” She rolls her eyes.

  “No really, Reece. You’ve done much more than give me a chance. You’ve taken a huge risk and given me the opportunity of a lifetime. I’ve admired you from afar for a long time. I know you could be anywhere else in the world tonight. With people who are much more interesting than I am—”

  I interrupt her with a chuckle. “I find you endlessly fascinating. You work hard and you don’t bullshit anyone. You’re teaching me yoga. What’s not to like?” I don’t add that it doesn’t hurt that her eyes captivate me. Or that when she smiles, I feel motivated to make it happen again.

  My humor disappears as I look at her and see that she’s not smiling back.

  Her tone is resigned when she speaks. “I started working when I was twelve. I’ve cleaned other people’s toilets. I’ve parked cars, I’ve bussed tables. I’ve worked for every single thing I have. I’m not sophisticated or well-educated.” Her laugh is short and humorless. “The first people who didn’t ask for anything other than friendship were Jessica, and then Sol. And even they are really just my landlord and my agent.” Her shoulders slump a little.