by Jax Hart
“The worst.”
“I come bearing gifts.” She pulled out two tubs of Halo Strawberry ice cream.
“I guess I can work out another day.”
“Riverdale?” She asked.
“I was thinking Outer Banks…”
“Yes! Anything summer and I’m in.” The outside world still swirled in shades of gray. As we watched the show, ideas starting churning. I’m a fighter not a quitter. Wade and his skank might’ve cheated me, but I could still find a way. Chart a new course just as Gran suggested. I started googling marine science programs in the Outer Banks. Duke wasn’t the only game in town. I began my search while watching OBX finding a few promising leads. My cell dinged with a text from Hannah.
H: She wants her bachelorette before she starts showing.
Me: I’m on it.
H: What’s your idea?
I looked up to the screen. A beach house in OBX. Off season it shouldn’t break my bank. We could do a spa theme, watch 365DNI and 50 Shades. Drink cheap wine and well, Kell can have sparkling grape juice.
M: House in OBX.
H: Genius. Book it.
Sighing, I typed in the URL for beach rental in the Outer Banks. There was a ton of options. All still thousands a week even in the dead of winter. I kept scrolling, changing my search filters. My eyes were immediately drawn to the third picture. It was of a hot tub on a deck with waving seagrass and dunes behind it. I clicked on the listing. The beach house went for a nightly rate of $699. That’s steep for me, but if we divided it amongst the group—totally doable. After clicking through the rest of the photos, I was convinced this was the house for us. It’s cute. Classy. Decorated with the finest beach theme and the shiplap. I loved shiplap. I’d shiplap my dull dorm room if I could. Sighing, I dreamed of spending a weekend out in that house, tucked in one of those cozy bedrooms under the snow white, fluffy goose down comforters that the listing boasted as having for winter guests. I’d be far from Wade and his new slut. Away from the whispers and pitying looks.
Without hesitating I click on the “contact owner” and filled out the required information, including my personal email address. Feeling satisfied, I closed the lid to my laptop and snuggle down in my cozy cotton blend comforter and drifted off to the scenes of the beach and boats from the OBX show. Forget, Wade. I’m moving onto bigger and better things without him. I have some money and Gramp’s boat. Life’s good. Even if winter was cold and lonely.
Five
“Beat that, calendar boy.” I lifted the bar so Hunter could slide out from underneath.
“I knew I’d regret telling you about that.”
“How is your sister, anyway?”
My face reddened and not from the round of sets Hunter and I were doing. “Remind me to kick your ass later.”
“It was only a few stolen kisses.”
“Which time?” My jaw tightened as I lifted the weighted bar, exhaling as I quickly raised my arms before lowering them.
“She was a hot elf. Should’ve won.”
“If I had known, best friend or not, I would’ve whooped your ass, bro.”
“She tasted like cotton candy after a summer rain….”
“That’s it.” Jerking the bar up, I racked it, slid down and went after him. Some of the other lifters got pissed. I simply told the truth. “He made out with my sister and lied to me about it.”
Ping.
My cell interrupted the beating I was about to give Hunter.
My eyes shifted from him, egging me on with a grin to my cell lying next to my water bottle. It could be work. It wasn’t. It was an alert from the rental app. I clicked open the app, reading the message.
From: [email protected]
To: homeowner1278
SUBJECT: Weekend rental?
Hi,
My name is Ryan, and I am interested in renting your beach home for a long weekend for my pregnant girlfriend to relax and enjoy a getaway. I am looking for a Friday-Sunday stay, leaving Monday morning. By chance is President’s Day weekend available?
Ryan
I replied immediately. A guy with a pregnant girlfriend sounded like perfect renters. There would be no raging parties or spilled beer to ruin my perfect beach bungalow. My sister bought all cream-colored chairs and couches and I had smacked my head. Sure, it was beachy and beautiful but not so much renter friendly colors.
From: homeowner12678
To: [email protected]
SUBJECT: Weekend rental?
Hi Ryan,
My home is available for those dates. Since it is off season, you’ll see in the calendar the rate is $699 a night. As stated in the listing, there is a no-smoking, no pet policy. I hope your girlfriend has an enjoyable stay. If you need anything while there, don’t hesitate to reach out. There will be a lock box with a key left on the porch. Four hours prior to your arrival after I’ve received payment in full, I will send you the code.
Enjoy your stay,
C.C.
A reply hit my inbox within minutes. Boom. I had my first booking. In no time my investment would make me money and more importantly the house was a memory my sister and I would always share. Satisfied at how easy it was, I put my phone down to go looking for Hunter. He was by the Nautilus equipment chatting up a blonde. I shook my head. He was leaning in, grinning, offering her pointers on how to get a better workout.
I threw my towel around my neck. I could get even with him without bloodying his nose. I cleared my throat, throwing an arm around him. “Who’s your new friend, babe?” I winked. He stiffened, trying to get out from under my arm, my bicep squeezed him closer. The blonde sized me up, cheeks turning red. “We’re going out for drinks after. Want to join us?” I asked her in my best high-pitched voice.
“I’m going to kill you,” Hunter hissed, when she politely refused walking away with Hunter’s eyes glued to her spandex ass. “Stop blocking me. I haven’t been laid in months.”
“So? Me neither.”
“Not by choice. What’s wrong with you? I used to be the one telling you to slow down.”
I shrugged. “Not feeling anyone. The last girl I met on the app freaked me out. She contacted me that she was late. I always used protection. It scared the shit out of me. Women know I have a good job and family money as soon as they Google me. For two days I thought I was trapped. I’d never get rid of a baby that’s mine. Even if I only slept with the mother a handful of times. Ever since that close call, I threw myself harder into work. Then the shore house.”
“Damn. I had no idea. You could’ve called.”
“You had your own problems. Do you miss her?” I didn’t mention that I had seen his ex out on a date when I had gone out with a group of coworkers last week.
“I miss being with someone. I feel like a jerk, but I couldn’t get a ring. I loved her just not passionately. If it’s for life. I want that. You know?”
I nodded. “The only thing I’m passionately crazy about is the fixer upper I bought. Speaking of, I just popped my first rental.”
“You worried it’ll be a party house?”
“Nope. It’s to a couple who are expecting. They’ll probably make a fire, enjoy the view, and sleep in. She can’t even drink. I’ll bet she won’t let him either.”
“Nice. Well, save a few weekends for us. Maybe what we each need is to relive a little former glory… Mr. July.”
I cursed under my breath.
“She texted me the photo.” He opened his phone, waving it in my face. “Leverage. We’re going out tonight or I blast this to all our old Frat buddies.”
I lunged for him. “You’re dead this time.” But he held it high, hurdling over a giant yoga ball.
“Face it, Carmichael. You’re my number one wingman again.”
“Fine. But you’re still my little bitch.” I put him in a headlock, using my fist to give him a nuggie on the top of his head.
“The two of you are so cute!” The blonde squeaked, walking out.
“We�
�re not together! I’m straight!” Hunter yelled, but she was already gone.
Six
My growling stomach woke me up. “Went out to Ted’s.” Gretchen had written on the dry erase board behind our dorm room door. I checked my phone; it was after eleven. Ugh, I hated it when I fell asleep in the early evening, I wake up out of sorts. I heated up some hot water in our small microwave and made myself a cup of instant mac & cheese while debating whether or not to meet Gretchen at Ted’s, the bar and grill on campus but my heart wasn’t in it. My heart wasn’t being here in Brookhaven. It was south, where the sea was. Pacing the small room, I came up with a plan. Follow your heart. But how? When every way seems to be blocked. I thought of what Gran had said. I’m the only one who can change my destiny. I’ll be damned if I lose my dream without a fight. Biting my lip, I sat at my desk, opening my email I hit reply and began composing…
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
SUBJECT: RESEARCH PROGRAM
Dear Dr. Winnfield,
Thank you for looking over my application. The Marine Research program at Nags Head has been my dream since I was sixteen.
I’ve worked tirelessly for years, everything leading up to the moment I applied. This might be very unconventional and could hurt my slim chances of being accepted considering how competitive the positions are, but I am compelled to write to you, nonetheless.
It has come to my attention that Wade Harrington V and Sierra Davis both from my University, have already been accepted even though the deadline to apply hasn’t expired. This was disheartening to hear. Especially since, Wade’s essay was mostly written off of my research. I didn’t mind at the time. I was just sharing. But now looking back, I was too trusting. To be frank, Wade’s grades are mostly due to my intervention. He never cheated per se but was heavily coached. I thought I was helping. I thought he was just as passionate about the program as I was. I was naïve.
He used me as a steppingstone to further his own ambitions.
It has also come to my attention that the heavy political and financial influence of Wade’s family on the University might also have contributed to such an early decision by the board.
It’s a shame when in today’s day and age hard work still takes a second seat to outright nepotism. If by any chance you have any regular openings in the student body for this spring semester, I’d be willing to transfer immediately. If either Sierra or Wade’s positions fall through, please keep me in mind.
Sincerely,
Ryan Hill
I hit send, then firmly closed the lid on my laptop. There. I felt better already. Even if nothing comes of it. They’ll know I know. I picked up my phone texting Gran. She wasn’t the best at text but could figure out the basics.
Me: I applied, even though Wade’s daddy bought his way in for him and his new girlfriend. I was so angry I wrote the head researcher to complain.
Gran: That’s my Ryan. Don’t let anyone hold you back.
Me: It probably ruined any outside chance, but I feel better. How’s my boat?
Gran: Waiting for you at a marina outside Nags Head.
Me: It might be waiting a while.
Gran: I’ve been bored. I took a job.
Me: Congrats! I’m excited for you!
Gran: It’s boring. I’m a PA in Durham for a temp agency. But it keeps my days full. Let me know as soon as you hear back from Duke. Maybe Pops will pull strings for you from above.
Me: If he can. He will. Night!
Gran: Night darling. You deserve the world. Don’t sell yourself short next time. Wait for real love.
Just when I was about to put my phone down and start up Netflix again, I got a new text from Hannah.
Hannah: Just bought 50 plastic dick straws online. I got dick everything, napkins, towels, plates. Ordered a case of wine for us and bottles of sparkling cider for Kells. What am I missing?
Me: A real dick?
Hannah: Male stripper. On it.
I smacked my head.
Me: It was a joke. I can’t afford a stripper.
Hannah: Heard you haven’t been seeing a real dick. It’ll do you good.
Stunned, I stared at her response. She was such a bitch. But the last thing I wanted to do was start drama for Kells. I’d just ignore her.
Me: How about some dick balloons instead?
Hannah: My credit card is maxed out. You bring them.
“Sure, it is,” I snorted. But I texted her back.
Me: Fine. The place is booked. I have a confirmation. We are all set for Friday-Monday, President’s Day Weekend.
Hannah: See you there.
I didn’t respond back. There was only three bedrooms. Kell deserved the Master. I’d sleep on the couch before sharing one with Hannah. She’d probably do something evil to me in my sleep, calling it a prank. I gritted my teeth; I love the beach but spending a weekend with Hannah was going to require a lot of wine and aspirin.
Seven
Cursing, I shuffled through the stacks of papers on my desk. I had less than five minutes until the Monday morning partner meeting. I was expected to give my assessment of the Management Capital deal. But the contract with my neatly hand typed notes and carefully highlighted clauses was missing. My newest PA, Lauren, was supposed to have my master copy on top of a dozen presentation copies. Gritting my teeth, I hit the red button on my desk phone, immediately connecting me with her line.
“Chase,” she panted as if she’d just run a 5k.
“Where’s the presentation?” My voice was curt, clipped. I felt her gaze on me through my glass office wall, but I refused to meet it.
“I-I…”
“Lauren?” Her name was a bullet firing from my mouth.
“I spilled the coffee I brought you on it. I blotted everything…”
“And this was?”
“An hour ago.”
“You didn’t think to tell me? Clear out your desk. I’ll contact your temp agency. Your services are no longer required.”
“Please—” I hung up on her plea. I didn’t have time for it. Instead, I went to my inbox where I had emailed her everything, opened the file and hit print. I’d make the copies myself. My notes, however, were gone. From now on, I’d have to screen shot copies of my own notes. Lauren was my second PA this year. It’s become a running joke in the office that I can’t keep one long. Hence, the need to use a temp agency. I stormed past her desk on my way to the copy room where the industrial printing was collating and stapling my copies. “Chase! Please!”
I felt her hand on my forearm. Looking down at her five brightly painted nails, I growled. “It’s Mr. Carmichael. Please remove your hand from my arm.” I took my copies striding out past her tear-streaked face.
Ten minutes late, I strode into the boardroom. As I sank down into my seat, I whiffed the scent of her perfume on my pressed white shirt. “Carmichael,” the CEO addressed me.
“Sorry, I’m late. I had to let my PA go.”
“Another one?” This time the CFO snorted, lifting his brows. There were a few ways I could play this. I was the newest senior level guy, beating out coworkers with more tenure. More than confident, I deserved it, while knowing there were others who had it out for me. I gave a wolfish grin, “You know how it is. Have to be careful in the workplace. It’s not my fault they all get crushes. Highly inappropriate, and I would never do anything to risk the firm’s reputation.”
They ate it up. Grinned like motherfuckers. “I envy you Carmichael. What I wouldn’t give to be in my prime again.” Fincham, one of the other senior partners, laughed. He was in his fifties, overweight with thinning hair.
Ignoring his comment, I passed out the presentations, the paper still warm from the copy machine. I cleared my throat, rolled up my sleeves and got to work like a boss.
At the end of my workday, I took the elevator down to the parking garage stopping short at the sight of Lauren loitering by my car. I waited to approach until more people came down
. I didn’t know what she was up to, but I wouldn’t be cornered without witnesses. I called out to her while still twenty feet away.
“Mr. Carmichael. I’m so sorry. Please give me another chance.”
I shook my head. “Sorry, I can’t. If you had just told me immediately, and re-did the presentations, I would have had time to re-do my notes. By panicking you showed me you can’t be trusted. And I don’t expect PA’s to fetch me coffee.”
“I thought I’d save you a trip. I was just trying to be helpful.” I bite my tongue. Sure, she was, like the time, I had asked her to take some files down the hall. She pretended to trip, intentionally dropping everything, just so she could get on her knees, raising her backside overly high, probably hoping I’d enjoy the view. If I was Hunter, I would’ve had her naked on day two. But I wasn’t Hunter. I was a new partner and determined to act like one.
“I should’ve fired you weeks ago.” I muttered under my breath.
“I really need work. Please just give me one more chance?” She licked her pouty lips. She was a looker. Even if her makeup was a bit strong. Her breasts were round and full, hips just wide enough to be curvy while her frame was still slender. My dick didn’t even twitch. Maybe Hunter was right. Maybe something was wrong with me. My libido was missing in action. “You want me, don’t you? Is that it? I tempt you so much you had to fire me?”
“I’ll call the agency. I’m sure you’ll find work. Excuse, me.” I clicked the unlock button on my Tesla, hoping she wouldn’t try to climb in. Hours later, while looking over contracts in bed, I took a break to check my social media. I had one new follower on Instagram. Lauren Newell. I also had a new private message. It was her, in the same red shoes she had worn to work and nothing else. I whistled. She was a looker. My cock finally stirred. I deleted her message blocked her, then changed all my social media account’s privacy settings. I leaned back against the headboard. I really needed to get laid. I logged into the dating app… clicking through a few profiles. Settling on one, I clicked in, asking her for drinks on Wednesday. I didn’t waste time, just asked her to read my bio and where to meet.