by Lucy Eden
“Auntie, Adam and I are very good at our jobs. The CEO and the head of the real estate division took us out to lunch afterwards.”
“Hmmm, that is a good sign. You always were a smart cookie.” She took another sip of wine. “Well, that other boy you dated, who shall not be named—” She talked about my ex like he was Lord Voldemort before she glanced at my mother. “—was a sorry bastard, but he’s over and you got through it. I’m glad somebody beat his ass after what he did to you.”
I met my mother’s eyes for a second and looked away.
“And finally, you’re not going to know anything about Adam if you run away. He asked you to stay, didn’t he?”
I nodded.
“Did you want to stay?”
My answering nod was accompanied by a fresh flood of tears.
“Kimberly, you are a grown woman. I’m not going to tell you what to do, but I would advise you to follow your heart on this one.” My mom smiled.
“Well, I’m going to tell you what to do.” Auntie Patrice shoved her glass at the screen almost spilling her wine. “Go back to that man, even if it’s only for two days. You don’t have anything else going on this weekend and you’re just going to come home and mope around. Do you have a picture?”
I took out my phone and texted Adam’s bathroom mirror selfie to my mom.
“Oh, my God. Kimberly.” My mom and aunt were huddled around her phone. “Donna was not kidding when she said he was fine.”
“Kimberly.” My Aunt screamed. “Get off this phone and go back to that man. If I was just a little bit younger, I would be on the first thing smoking to Barbados.”
I laughed and sniffled. “Okay. I’m going. I love you guys. Thanks.”
“Love you, baby!”
“Love you, girl. Your hair still looks good!”
I ended the call and started gathering my things. A man wearing a similar uniform to the first two attendants approached me, but he looked more official. Jesus Christ, what now?
“Pardon me, ma’am—” He began.
“You don’t have to worry about my boarding pass. I’m leaving.” I made an effort to walk past him and he stepped in front of me. He was wearing an expression of remorse and he looked a little nervous. I was confused.
“Ma’am, I’m very sorry…” he said. I stopped and looked at him. “We received a complaint from one of our other first class passengers that you may have had an…” He wrung his hands uncomfortably, “unpleasant encounter with one of our lounge attendants.”
“Unpleasant?” a female voice called from behind him. I looked up to see a middle-aged woman with a blonde bob in a perfectly tailored Chanel suit staring crossly at the second attendant, who definitely looked nervous. “I didn’t see her demand to see anyone else’s boarding pass, and she drove this young lady to tears. Shameful!”
Then it hit me. They thought I had been crying because of the boarding pass thing. It was totally inappropriate, definitely annoying but not worth sobbing in the corner of an airport lounge.
“I’d like to apologize formally and inform you that it is not our policy to re-check a valued first class passenger’s boarding pass after they’ve gained entry to our lounge. The employee has been reprimanded and I sincerely hope that this hasn’t negatively affected your experience with us today.”
“Well,” I sighed dramatically, “It was rather disappointing.” I tried to keep a straight face after having just used the word rather. My mood had improved drastically after talking to Mom and Auntie Patrice and, of course, at the prospect of seeing Adam again. The supervisor proceeded to apologize again and offered me an embarrassingly large amount of airline vouchers, which I politely declined. Adjusting my sunglasses, I lifted my chin and confidently strolled through the lounge. I smiled at the woman in the Chanel suit, raised my eyebrows at the second attendant who wouldn’t meet my eye, and exited the lounge leaving her wondering if her boss would be receiving a call from my attorneys.
The attendant at the door smiled brightly and wished me a happy flight, apparently oblivious to anything happening inside the lounge. I waited until I got past security to start laughing. My dad was going to love this story. I’d have to leave out the part about turning down the vouchers though. He’d be furious that I didn’t accept them.
As I made my way to the airport exit, I concentrated on how I was going to get back to The Sterling. I still had no idea how car services worked in Barbados.
My heart swelled when I saw a familiar face.
“Well, hello, pretty lady.” Francis was holding the rear passenger door open for me. “I thought I'd be seeing you again.”
“What are you still doing here?”
“Ah, I thought I'd wait around just in case you changed your mind.”
“You knew I'd change my mind and want to stay?”
“I had a feeling.” He grinned and took my suitcase from me.
“Can we surprise him?” I asked when he climbed into the driver’s seat.
“My lips are sealed.”
eighteen
Adam
The plan was to run along the coast without stopping when my phone buzzed in my pocket. It was an alert from the airline letting me know that Kimberly had checked in for her flight. I used our family account to book her in first class. It was the least I could do if I couldn’t be there with her.
The thought of Kimberly sitting on a plane soaring over the Atlantic and out of my life zapped me of any energy. I turned off my phone so I wouldn’t get the alert letting me know the plane had taken off. I’d walked to a nearby bar, ordered a club soda with lime and sat on the beach sipping, wondering if there was anything more I could have done or said to convince her to stay when I heard a familiar voice.
“Crossword puzzles! We have to stop meeting like this.”
I turned around to see Red, whom I met after my run on Wednesday. Today her hair was in a high dark crimson ponytail showcasing a smattering of brown freckles that danced across the bridge of her nose. She had traded in her shorts and bikini top for a green flowered sundress. She was still as gorgeous as she was on Wednesday, and still I felt nothing.
“I see you feel like drinking today.” She motioned towards my glass.
“Club soda,” I said without looking up.
“Look,” she sighed, “I know I came on a little strong the first time we met, but you really look like you could use a friend. Do you mind if I sit?” I shrugged and indicated the space on the sand to my right.
“Sure.”
“I’m Tracey.” She extended her hand and I shook it.
“I’m Adam.”
I wasn’t lying to Kimberly when I’d said I’d never had a real relationship with anyone. I’d never wanted to get close to anyone or let them close to me. For the life of me, I couldn’t understand how I fell in love with Kimberly in the first place, or when. It was like love snuck up on me.
I also wasn’t lying to myself when I said Kimberly made me care about things that I never thought twice about, like Renee. No, I didn’t tell her we were in a relationship and no, I didn’t tell her to break into my apartment and refuse to leave, but I could sense how differently we were treated at the office when word got around about us. I downplayed it and ignored the rumors, focusing on work, but maybe that’s a luxury she didn’t have. Bingham was a step down from WP but Hart was barely three years old. I remembered Renee being a great architect when we worked together and her team was good enough to make the cut to get in the room with Wolfe’s CEO. Where would she be if we never crossed paths? Could I have done something to help her? Sure, I gave myself a big pat on the back for not pressing charges for the breaking and entering, but maybe that wasn’t enough.
Then there was Tracey. I realized as I sat on the beach talking with her that I’d never had a real conversation with any of the random women I’d slept with. If I hadn’t met Kimberly, before meeting Tracey, I would have fucked her, forgotten her and never thought about her again.
Tra
cey, it turned out, was on her honeymoon but she’d called off the wedding and the trip was non-refundable so she went anyway. She’d decided, after a piña colada for bravery, the best way to get over one guy was to get under another when we first met.
“God,” she covered her reddened face with her hands. “I still can’t believe I said that! I really used to be a gymnast, though.”
“Well, it definitely got my attention,” I laughed. “Ordinarily, it would’ve worked like a charm.”
“I had this dumb fantasy of being the girl in the romantic comedy who goes on her honeymoon by herself and stumbles— literally, because why are those chicks all so clumsy?—into her great love story, but it seems like I stumbled into someone else’s.”
“I don’t know about that. I’m usually so sure about everything, but this week has been a fucking crazy emotional roller coaster. I have no idea what love is supposed to be.”
“Well, it would seem that I don’t know either or I wouldn’t have said yes to a proposal that included the sentence: ‘We’ve been together so long that it would be weird if we didn’t get married.’”
“Yikes.”
“I know. I’ve collected enough red flags over the years to open a store.” She gave me a mirthless chuckle. “But I do know this: In the past half hour, you’ve said more beautiful things about Kimberly than I think Brad’s thought about me in the last five years. That has to mean something.”
I shrugged in response
She continued, “I also haven’t flirted with anyone since I was seventeen, so I’m hoping the only reason you turned me down was because you were madly in love with another woman.”
That elicited a half smile and chuckle from me. “I am. But she left.”
“Did you ask her stay?”
“I practically begged her to stay.”
“Did you tell her why?”
“I…” I opened my mouth and closed it. I’d been trying to tell her, but no. I didn’t.
“I’m going to take that as a no.”
“No. I wanted to, but…”
“You were afraid of getting shot down.”
That stung because it was the truth. It was the kind of truth that punched you as hard as it could in the stomach and kicked you in the teeth once you hit the ground. I was terrified of being rejected by her. If I’d truly opened myself up to Kimberly, told her everything I was feeling, and she got on that plane anyway, it would’ve just confirmed everything I’d already known about myself. I was disposable and unworthy of love. Hadn’t my father always called me “the spare” and disposed of me when I was no longer useful to him? I thought my mother loved me, but she chose my father and then pills and wine.
I couldn’t shake the image of my hand on Kimberly’s arm while I practically begged her not to leave.
“You really need to let me go.”
I felt my chest tighten, and I sprang to my feet.
“Hey, Adam,” Tracey jumped up and put her hands on my biceps the way Kimberly did at the airport the first day I met her. My muscles tightened. “I’m sorry if I touched a nerve. I didn’t mean—”
“It’s okay.” I tried to plaster on a fake smile. “I’m gonna take off, though. You okay here? Are you staying at the Sterling?” I jerked a thumb over my shoulder.
“Ummm, not exactly.” She flicked her eyes away and back at me giving me an awkward smile. I smiled and nodded my understanding. “No judgments, please.”
“Hey,” I held my hands up, grinning. “If you’re looking for judgments you came to the wrong guy.” I pulled my wallet out of my back pocket and opened it. “Here. It’s my last one and I’m not gonna need it. It shouldn’t go to waste.” She laughed and took the condom from my outstretched hand.
“I promise not to think of you when I use it.” She grinned.
“That’s all I ask.” I smiled at her then turned and took off running down the beach.
By the time I made it back to the apartment the sun had gone down. Kimberly’s flight would have taken off a half hour ago, but I still hadn’t turned my phone on to check. The lock beeped, I pushed the door open and was greeted by darkness and silence. It was still haunted by Kimberly’s perfume and my chest tightened again. I walked into her room and sat on the bed, not knowing what I’d hoped to find but all of her things were still gone. If I didn’t know better, if I didn’t know Kimberly, I would think that she was never there, like Kimberly Simmons was a figment of my active imagination. The room was completely spotless. She’d even made the bed and lined up the unused complimentary soap and shampoo bottles on the bathroom counter.
I didn’t know what to do with myself without her. I don’t have a single memory in this place that didn’t involve her, good or bad. Now that she was gone, they all seemed like good memories because all I wanted to do was relive those moments.
When I first booked this trip, I planned to spend this weekend drinking and getting laid, to celebrate what I was sure would be a slam-dunk pitch. It turns out that the pitch was only a slam dunk because of Kimberly and she was the only one I wanted to celebrate with.
I made the long, slow walk to my bedroom without bothering to turn the lights on. The apartment suddenly seemed a lot bigger and I wasn’t ready to face it. I turned on the shower, stripped out of my sweaty clothes and tossed them in a pile on the floor. Something felt off about the bathroom, but I shook it off, attributing it to false hope and missing Kimberly. I stepped inside, closing the glass door behind me. The tiled wall of the shower supported my weight and let the hot water massage my sore muscles.
An eternity passed when I was greeted with a rush of cool air and felt her step in behind me. I closed my eyes giving myself a few seconds to absorb what was happening so I could be sure I wasn’t imagining it. Kimberly’s small sienna-hued hands were wrapping themselves around my chest. My head dropped and I took a deep shuddering breath as I felt her press a kiss to my back before resting her cheek against my shoulder blade.
She was really here.
She came back for me.
I turned to face her. Her beautiful brown eyes were glistening with tears.
“Hey,” she whispered, giving me a small smile.
“Hey,” I replied and swallowed a lump in my throat. I had so many questions.
Why did she leave? Why did she come back? What did this mean?
Then I realized that I didn’t care, not at the moment. She was here. That’s all that mattered.
I wrapped my arms around her waist and brushed my lips across hers. Her fingers tangled in my hair as she lifted one of her legs to hook it around my hip. I reached down, scooped up her other thigh, wrapped both legs around my waist and pressed her into the corner of the tiled shower. My shaft glided between her slick folds and I desperately wished that I could have her like this, bare and exposed with nothing between us. I nibbled, licked and sucked her neck and shoulder while my name tumbled from her lips in moans and murmurs.
“Adam,” she breathed, “I need you. I need to feel you.”
My dick throbbed in response to her pleas. My chest tightened when I realized I couldn’t give her what she wanted. “Kimberly.” I pressed my forehead to hers. “There are no more condoms. You left and I knew I wasn’t going to sleep with anyone else and…”
“You weren’t?” she whispered. She seemed genuinely surprised.
I smiled at her. “Didn’t I tell you that you’ve ruined me for all other women?” I kissed her again. “But we still have a problem.”
She nodded. “When was the last time you had unprotected sex?” she asked.
“I’ve never had unprotected sex.”
She gave me a skeptical look.
“Seriously. Sex education in my house consisted of two words: consent and protection. My father made sex sound like every woman’s get rich quick scheme and Price men were the jackpot.”
“The jackpot?” she said with a laugh. “That’s way too much crazy to unpack in this shower.”
I laughed.
“It’s been a few months. I’ve been focusing all my time and energy on designing the resort.” She seemed to relax a bit and smiled.
“Well, it definitely shows.” She managed to give me two compliments at once and it was making me feel reckless. I traced her collarbone with my tongue. “When was the last time you’ve been tested?”
“Two months ago and all of my results were negative. You?”
“My last exam was nine months ago and I’m all clear. Plus, I’ve never had sex before yesterday, so…”
“Are you on birth control?”
“No.” She shook her head with our foreheads still pressed together. “But,” She picked her head up. “According to Planned Parenthood the pull-out method is ninety-six percent effective.”
“That doesn’t sound right to me.” I narrowed my eyes at her and kissed her again.
“It is. I swear. Check their website.”
“Kimberly,” I gave her a soft chuckle. “I’m not getting out of this shower to check Planned Parenthood’s website looking for information about the pull-out method.” She laughed. “And besides, I couldn’t trust myself to pull out of you. You feel too good.” I tightened my arms around her hips and pressed our lips together. This couldn’t last much longer. “You need to get out of this shower.” I set her down on her feet.
“But I still feel so dirty,” she bit her lip and grinned at me. I bracketed her hips with my hands and squeezed.
“You really need to stop.” I narrowed my eyes at her again. She laughed before her eyes went wide and she let out a gasp. “What?”