Working It Out (A Romantic Comedy)

by Rachael Anderson

  “Stop it! This isn’t funny!” Her foot stomped on the carpeted ground with a soft thud. Based on the way her eyes misted over and how she looked away, Seth could see that she really didn’t think it was funny. He’d never seen Lanna cry before. It immediately wiped the grin from his face.

  Seth reached for her arm, but she pulled it free, still not looking at him.

  “You wouldn’t take the money any other way,” he said softly. “So I did what I had to do to finally get you to accept my help. You and I both know that Mike would want me to do this.”

  Her eyes turned back to him, harder now than ever before. “No, he wouldn’t. Don’t you get it? You can’t force your help on people. Life doesn’t work like that. All you can do is offer, and if I say no, you have to walk away and leave it be. You can’t do this to me anymore, Seth. You can’t.” Her voice broke at the end.

  Seth suddenly felt as if he were two inches tall, even next to her petite body. He wanted to draw her into a hug and assure her that he’d come here tonight because he cared about her and not for any other reason. But if she’d slapped his arm away earlier, she certainly wouldn’t let him hug her now.

  “Okay,” he said. “Lesson learned. I promise to only make offers from here on out. There. Happy?” Seth certainly didn’t feel happy.

  She sniffed and nodded, not looking remotely happy either—or triumphant, for that matter. “I know Milly accepted your bid, but we’re not taking that money.”

  Whoa—what? Seth blinked, feeling as though she’d tricked him. In his mind, they’d each surrendered some of their pride and made a compromise. She finally agreed to take his money, and he promised to never pull a stunt like this again. Done.

  But not really, because Lanna was incapable of compromising.

  Seth lifted his chin. “Good luck telling that to Milly and the reporter I caught taking notes and snapping a few pictures. Oh and the parents with kids in your program who will read about tonight’s success in tomorrow’s paper. Good luck with that.”

  Lanna bit her lower lip, her eyelids blinking rapidly.

  “For Pete’s sake, Lanna, take the stupid money,” Seth begged. “You need it. Those kids need it. If for no other reason, take it for them.”

  Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes as she stood there, shaking her head and looking almost as miserable as she’d looked the day of her brother’s funeral. Seth’s heart wrenched at the sight.

  “Fine,” Lanna finally said, tears drizzling down her cheeks. “You win. I’ll take the money.”

  With that, she walked away, the same way the girl in blue had done earlier. Only this time, Seth didn’t feel triumphant at all. He felt like he’d broken something special, something that could never be put back together the same way it had been before. He’d broken Lanna’s spirit.

  STILL WEARING HER dress, Grace drew her legs beneath her and settled against the back of her comfy microfiber couch as she stared at her laptop, waiting for the website, WhatsInAName.com, to load. When it did, her fingers quickly tapped out the name Seth.

  Grace had never known another Seth before—at least not well enough to research the name. But now she did. Only thirty minutes before, someone with that name had challenged her, caught her off guard, and caused her to run away—something she never did.

  It was the kiss that had done it. That warm, soft, and completely inappropriate kiss. To make matters worse, for one brief moment, Grace had actually enjoyed the sensation of that man’s lips against hers—enjoyed. She’d even kissed him back, though it made her cringe to admit it. What had she been thinking? Especially after he’d just outbid her for Cameron—Cameron!

  It didn’t matter how handsome Seth was, with those piercing blue eyes and dark hair, Grace should have done more than shoved him away. She should have slapped him then stood her ground and told Seth exactly where he could put those lips in the future—anywhere but on her. Then she should have slapped him again.

  Even now, she still couldn’t shake the horrible, anxious feeling that crawled across her skin like a colony of ants.

  Grace glared at Seth’s name on the screen, hating it more than ever. What had prompted him to go to the auction anyway? Wouldn’t it have been easier—and far less humiliating—for him to simply donate the money? It didn’t make sense.

  Realizing she hadn’t clicked the search button, Grace quickly did so, waiting for the results. What would it mean? Arrogant? Jerk? Self-serving? All of the above? It had to.

  The page finally loaded, and two results appeared—one with the Hebrew meaning, the other with the Egyptian mythology meaning. Grace clicked on the Hebrew version first.

  Third son of Adam and Eve. Means “placed” or “appointed.”

  Grace frowned. Placed? Appointed? That sounded way too positive, like someone destined to be a great leader or something. She drew her bottom lip into her mouth. Hmm . . . maybe it wasn’t meant to be positive. Maybe what it really meant was that all the Seths in the world appointed themselves to be cocky and vain, intimidators and manipulators of other people.

  Yes, Seth was a self-appointed ego-maniac. That fit much better.

  Just to be sure, Grace went back and clicked on the mythology version of his name. She scanned the words quickly, and as she did so, a slow smile stretched across her face. Turned out that Seth was also the name of the Egyptian god of chaos.

  Suddenly it all made sense. Not only had Seth brought his self-appointed ego to the auction, but he’d wrought total chaos. No wonder Grace had run. Anyone in their right mind would have run from a god of chaos.

  At least she’d done so with her head held high.

  Armed with her newly acquired knowledge, Grace closed the laptop with a satisfied snap, feeling much better. If she ever came up against another Seth again, she’d be ready.

  GRACE SHIFTED THE bag of groceries she carried to the opposite hip as she paused in front of her brother’s first-story apartment. She breathed in the damp air and looked longingly at a jogger coming toward her down the street. If only she could be at the park right now, running her favorite route, and not standing outside this apartment. While lovely on the outside, with a colonial townhouse feel, the inside was a different matter. Grace could almost feel the dreariness seeping through the door.

  Ever since Grace had moved to Seattle to be near Alec, she’d promised herself to show up at least two or three times a week, regardless of whether he wanted her there or not. So here she was, keeping her promise. She glanced at the front window, covered by dark wooden blinds, and took one last breath of fresh air. However dark or stale it was on the other side, Grace wasn’t about to admit defeat no matter how difficult her brother could be.

  Squaring her shoulders, Grace rang the bell, knowing he wouldn’t answer but wanting to alert him of her arrival. Then she pulled out the spare key he’d given her and slid it into the lock, pushing the door open with her free hip. The smell of stale and musty air invaded her senses, making her want to stay on the outside. But she forced her feet forward and closed the door quickly behind her, shutting out the temptation to leave.

  “Hey bro, it’s me,” Grace called as she walked to the kitchen, feeling like she’d entered a place that shut out all light and happiness. The tap-tapping of the keyboard sounded from down the hall, letting her know that Alec was busy working in his home office. He gave no greeting or indication that he’d heard her come inside.

  She sighed and opened the blinds and windows in both the kitchen and family room, wishing Alec had a box fan that would draw the fresh air inside faster. No matter how many times she hinted to her brother that he could open his windows occasionally, he never seemed to do it. A light coat of dust covered the coffee table and entertainment center, and Grace made a mental note to wipe them clean before she left.

  She put most of the groceries away, started a pan of rice on the stove, and pulled out a cutting board so she could chop vegetables for a stir fry. She often cooked for her brother and brought him fresh grocer
ies. It was the only way she could guarantee he ate a home-cooked meal since he didn’t like to venture out. Alec used to get after Grace for coming, telling her to stop treating him like a special-needs case, but when she continued to come, week after week, he finally gave up the fight.

  Their parents continually told Grace to stop enabling Alec, but Grace knew if she didn’t, he’d eat cereal, order takeout, or find some other form of easy cuisine. Alec needed fresh produce and a good meal every once in a while. So every Tuesday and Thursday night, and typically Sunday, he got one. Grace also made sure to leave enough leftovers for at least one meal the following day.

  As the sunlight brightened the room and the fresh air began to make its way inside, Grace felt her spirits lift. She turned on some upbeat music and felt them lift even higher. Someday, things would change. Someday, her brother would find something to live for again. And someday, the heavy weight of guilt that settled against her chest every time she thought of Alec would lessen.

  Once dinner was ready, Grace wiped her hands on a dishcloth and went to find her brother. With his profile facing her, he tapped away at his computer, and Grace allowed her heart to constrict for a few moments as she studied him. His sandy-blond hair was in need of a haircut, his face in need of a shave, and his complexion in need of some sun.

  The physical therapist in her also noticed that his biceps and triceps weren’t nearly as toned as they used to be, and his once-lean stomach now carried extra weight. Then there were his legs—so weak and fragile looking. Grace swallowed. For someone whose name meant “the protector of mankind” this wasn’t him. Alec should be strong and erect—a force to be reckoned with.

  Grace swallowed the lump in her throat, moved forward, and put her hand on his shoulder. “Dinner’s ready.”

  Alec jerked back and shot her a look of surprise. “When did you get here?”

  “A little while ago. Didn’t you hear me?” Grace could still hear the radio from where she stood, albeit faintly.

  He rubbed at the scruff on his chin as he blinked at the monitor. “Sorry. I’ve been working on a new code, and you know how I get.”

  “Yeah, I know.” Her brother was always working on some code. If Grace never came over, he’d probably come up for air only when he needed to use the bathroom, got hungry, or slept. She had no idea how many hours he spent working, but it was way too much.

  There was a time when Grace thought they’d put the worst behind them, but ever since he started working from home, things had gone downhill.

  Why had she ever asked Alec to skip a day of high school and go skiing with her that horrible winter day nearly ten years ago? How many times had she wished she could rewind time and take it all back? Why didn’t she just go to school like Alec had planned to do? Why couldn’t she have been more responsible, like he was? Instead, she’d convinced him to be irresponsible for a day, and it had cost him the use of his legs.

  The guilt bore down on her the same way it did every time she saw her brother. She cleared her throat and averted her eyes. “So, you coming? The food’s getting cold.”

  Alec’s hands moved from the keyboard to his lap, and he nodded. “Coming.”

  Without thinking, Grace moved behind him to wheel him out of the room, but one cold look from Alec had her snapping her hands to her side and leading the way to the kitchen. There was nothing Alec hated more than being treated like an invalid. Grace should have known better.

  “So,” Grace said as they sat down to eat. “What sort of code are you working on now?”

  “Just a program for an internet site. They have a lengthy and complex questionnaire they need programmed. It needs to jump to new pages or skip certain questions based on the user’s answers then map out and analyze the results.” He shrugged. “Pretty boring stuff, but it pays the bills.”

  “Whatever,” Grace said. “You love that kind of stuff. It’s like a never-ending puzzle to you.”

  He nodded. “Good thing, too, because there’s not much else that—” He cut himself off and shoved a forkful of stir fry into his mouth.

  Grace didn’t know what to say. She lowered her eyes to her plate so Alec wouldn’t see the pity that filled them. He hated that almost as much as he hated help.

  “You really don’t need to keep cooking and shopping for me,” Alec said. “I’m a big boy and can do it myself.”

  They’d had this conversation before. Several times, in fact. And every time, Grace’s answer was the same. “I like to do it,” she said. “I get lonely and enjoy hanging out with my brother. Is that such a bad thing?”

  “Not it if were true.” His light-green eyes took on a teasing quality, but Grace knew he wasn’t really joking. No matter how hard she tried to hide how difficult it was for her to see him like this, Alec could probably see right through her.

  Grace swallowed her food and pasted on a smile. “I was thinking that maybe you could come visit me sometime—you know, at work. See what I do. We have all this equipment there that you’re welcome to use if you ever want to work out.” She bit her tongue after that last part. She shouldn’t have said it, but the words had slipped out before she could check them.

  “Are you saying I’m looking out of shape?” he said dryly.

  Grace sneaked a glance at him, trying to gauge what was going through his mind—if he was in a mood that could take some positive criticism. Maybe it was time to stop all the dancing around the subject and tell him what she really thought. “No, I’m saying that it would be good for you to get out a little more. You can still workout, you know. In fact, you need to. Otherwise you’re at risk for things like blood clots, muscle atrophy, or osteoporosis.”

  Silence.

  “Would that really be so bad?” Alec spoke the words quietly, as if he hadn’t meant them to be heard by anyone. As if he would actually welcome an early death.

  Grace set down her fork with a sharp clack on the table and glared at her brother. She hated—hated—when he said stuff like that. “Yes, Alec, that would be bad. How could you even think—” She broke off, fighting back emotion. Not even the sun shining through the open windows could ebb the pain that had suddenly slammed into her chest.

  “I was only joking, Grace. Lighten up,” Alec said. Only he hadn’t been joking, and they both knew it. Still, he looked sorry for having caused her pain, and if he felt sorry enough, maybe Grace could use that to her advantage.

  She leaned across the table and covered his hand with hers. “Just come. Please? I have an opening tomorrow. You can get out of the house, and we can work through a few exercises. You used to love to work out.”

  “I used to love a lot of things.” His eyes drifted toward the open window and took on a pained quality, almost as if the glimpse into the outside world reminded him of something that had been taken away.

  Grace returned her attention to her food, feeling defeated. Maybe her parents were right. Maybe she was enabling her brother. Maybe it was time to stop coming around, time to stop trying to convince him to be someone he obviously didn’t want to be anymore. Maybe—

  “Okay. I’ll be there tomorrow,” said Alec.

  Grace’s eyes snapped to his as hope flared inside her. She felt as though she’d just leapt over a massive hurdle. If Alec came once, maybe he’d want to keep coming. Maybe he’d even start to smile again—really smile. And maybe, just maybe, he’d finally start to realize that his life wasn’t over, just different.

  THE CHOPPER THUNDERED away, leaving Seth, his two best friends, and their guide at the top of one of the many mountain ranges in Haines, Alaska. Snow whipped in Seth’s face, stinging the exposed part of his face like tiny glass shards. But he didn’t care. This was day one of a fourteen-day trip that had been planned nearly a year earlier, right after their last heli-skiing trip. It marked the beginning of what would be an epic two weeks.

  Seth adjusted his helmet and goggles as he waited for the noise of the chopper to subside. He looked around, getting a 360-degree view that featured o
ne snow-covered mountain after another. The sky was blue, the sun shining, and the early February chill biting. With over 5,000 vertical feet of skiable terrain below him, Seth couldn’t wait to strap on his skis and take the plunge. In his mind, nothing compared to skiing down the fresh, deep powder of an untouched run. This was what life was all about—tossing fear aside and jumping in with both feet.

  Mike had taught him that.

  Garrett thrust his snowboard vertically into the snow and draped his arms over the top of it as he glanced at Seth. “You ready for this?”

  “More than ready.” Seth pulled the drawstrings of his gloves, tightening them around his wrists to keep the snow out.

  A grin appeared on Garrett’s face as he shook his head. “I’ve gotta admit, I’m a little nervous. That’s a pretty steep run through some pretty deep snow. I hope our guide knows what he’s doing. I don’t want to trigger an avalanche or something.”

  “You worry too much.”

  “And you don’t worry enough sometimes.”

  Owen dropped his skis in the snow and shoved his boots in the bindings one at a time, clicking them into place. “Today is going down in history as the most epic day ever. And I’m going to get it all on camera.” He pointed toward his head, where a borrowed helmet cam stuck up from the top like a pudgy antennae.

  Seth chuckled as he shoved his own boots into his skis. This was Owen’s first experience heli-skiing, and he was like a six-year-old kid on a sugar high—something Seth would be sure to tease him about later when they watched whatever kind of video feed came from Owen’s helmet cam. “Just don’t biff it too much, or we’ll all get motion sickness when we watch it.”

  “Whatever. You know I can ski circles around both of you.”

  “If you can catch us,” Seth joked. Born and raised near a ski resort in Canada, Owen was the better skier—not that Garrett had ever really learned, since he preferred to snowboard. But over the past couple of years, Seth’s time spent on the slopes had brought his skill level nearer to Owen’s—the perk of having a lot of money and a flexible schedule.