While They Watch

by Khloe Summers

“Slip these on and meet me at the docks. – Matteo”

  Excited, I jumped in the shower, noticing he’d filled the bathroom with more feminine scents. Peony, Lavender, and Rose. All imported from Italy with names I couldn’t pronounce. I was dying to try each one, but knowing he was waiting, I rushed. Quickly, I blew out my hair and tucked it back to one side with a few bobby pins—stepped into the A-line dress, brushed my hands down over my waist, and twirled, letting the air catch each pleat. If it weren’t for the giant bruise on my face, I might have even felt pretty.

  Soft music danced from the yacht parked at the end of the dock, its lights bouncing off the crystal waters below. Matteo stood on the pier, waiting for my arrival. His dark gray suit fitted to his body, the jacket unbuttoned and pushed to the side by his hand in his pocket. It was as though the advertisement for the yacht was unfolding in front of me.

  He met me with open arms at the edge of the dock, kissing my cheek gently, “You look stunning. I was hoping you’d like it.”

  I again let myself fall into him like a wave against the shore, feeling a slight shiver tickle down my spine as we touched. “I love it, you really shouldn’t have.”

  “You deserve it,” he replied, as he lifted away from the embrace. “I made pasta fazool, another of my mother’s.” Following him further into the yacht, we climbed the short spiral staircase to the top deck. There, a wooden table covered with a black cloth sat waiting. On top, a lit tealight candle floating in a clear glass bowl. He pulled out the plush bench, leading me to sit before sliding in next to me. He was close, but not quite touching the edge of my shoulder as we stared at the jagged mountain range glowing in the setting sun. A soft, classical guitar played on the speakers while Erik served us pasta fazool with red wine. It was all too much. Truthfully, I’d have been as happy on the couch eating a pizza.

  “What adventures do you have left in life? You seem to have it all,” I questioned, taking a sip of wine.

  “I’m still waiting for the best adventure of all…”

  “What’s the best adventure?” I asked, curiously waiting.

  “Love, a family. Things I can’t buy. What about you?”

  “A family, maybe some travel,” I began, taking another sip. “Daniel doesn’t want any of that. I can barely get him to spend an evening with me.”

  Shifting in, Matteo studied my bruise, raising his hand to my lips, healing my pain with his company. “He doesn’t deserve your time.”

  Unfortunate tears fought their way onto my cheek as he bathed me in compliments. I was uncomfortable and happy all at once. Guilty and excited for whatever was happening.

  He moved his thumb to mop the wetness, tangling his thick fingers in my hair. “You’re so much more than he gives you credit for.”

  Tension crawled through my body, his soft movements like fire on ice, melting me into a puddle. Maybe it was the years of feeling unwanted, or perhaps his kind words meeting my emotional instability.

  “I should probably find another place to stay after tonight, I don’t want to overstay my welcome,” I said, changing the subject and adjusting position to avoid uncomfortable physical attraction.

  “Stay as long as you need, I have the room. Besides, it gets lonely here. I like the company.”

  Nervously sipping my wine, I noticed the boat had moved away from the pier, now somewhere in the middle of the lake. Dotted out along the shoreline, the lights of tiny cottages and huge mansions — all framed by glacial boulders and tall green pines, shadowed by the setting sun. I thought of Daniel and wondered what he had made himself for dinner, wondered if he were thinking of me. Or rather, immersed in something on TV.

  “So, how many girls have you rescued this year?” I joked, though sincerely hoping for an answer. After all, with all this time and money, I’m sure he’d stayed busy with women.

  He choked a little on his dinner, then leaned back, stretching his arm out behind me, a slight smile on his face. “Well… I do have a bit of a hero complex, but I don’t think it’s gotten too out of hand.”

  “That’s not a bad thing,” I added, still angsty for an answer. “Just curious.”

  “I’ve only been with two women seriously, one, in my 20’s. She was in it for the money. And the second was five years ago. We lasted a few years, the longest. She had a lot of hang-ups. I knew she was interested in my money, but I was willing to look past it because she had other great qualities,” he went on, nervously bending one leg over the other, shaking his shoe. “But… we started the relationship both being aware of certain sexual preferences and when we were about to act on them, I came across some messages in her email.”

  I fluffed my hair back away from the breeze and began fidgeting with the utensils. “Sexual preferences?”

  He blushed a bit then toughened, “I think I need something of equal embarrassment first,” he teased, smiling brightly.

  I took another long sip of wine, disappearing for a moment in its flavors—returning only to avoid eye contact, “I’ve only known you a few days! I can’t.”

  “Oh, come on… there must be some embarrassing novelty you’d love discussing with a hero.” He turned towards me, still smiling through his words as though he were posing for a toothpaste commercial.

  My face turned red; I hadn’t talked about sex or my desires with anyone in years. Though, for some reason, I wanted to tell Matteo.

  “I have this… list. It’s stupid—”

  “You have this list… for what? Sex?” he asked, sounding naughty and curious.

  I looked away slightly and began twirling at my hair. “Yeah, an explicit bucket list, ideas of all the crazy things I want to try. I’ve been writing it for years.”

  He looked back at me with wide eyes and raised brows, still playful, “I had no idea this sweet animal rescuer would be so wild!”

  My face flushed with red as I slapped him lightly on the arm, “That’s me… wild to the core. What about you?”

  “I’m an exhibitionist,” he stated, plainly and simply. “I like people watching, or the excitement of getting caught.”

  “Like where? What was the craziest spot you ever…”

  “I’ve never actually done it. It’s only a fantasy. I was about to, with that one girl, but I found out she was planning to secretly record and blackmail me.” He sounded more irritated as he thought about the incident. “It shocks me the things people will do for money. And my family has built too high a reputation for that to get out.” We locked eyes again, and he softened. “We should get off this boat and do some shopping, we’ve been docked for a while now.”

  He led me down the stairs and into the street, holding my small hand in his as we wandered. Synapses fired in my brain telling me to let go, worried our touching meant I was cheating on Daniel, but I couldn’t stop myself. I was desperate for affection and he was giving it out by the buckets. Besides, there was a major chance this was some Italian custom, and I wasn’t that special at all.

  A few feet from the dock was a large shopping center. One I’d never seen before, with designer stores lined one after another.

  “No other shoppers to distract, it’s all yours,” he beamed, waiting for my excitement.

  “I feel bad! You’ve already given me so much.”

  “It makes me happy! Let’s check this store out.” He took my hand and led me into the first store, picking things out that cost more than my mortgage. Prada tops made of silk that flowed off my body softly, and with ease. Versace skirts with colorful chain prints and coach purses made of leather that screamed money.

  “Bellisimo!” he gushed, sitting in the club-style chair outside the dressing room. “You look amazing.”

  Not once did he take his eyes off me, his excitement for my happiness contagious amidst my insecurities. So, I relented, and soon had a dressing room filled with Marc Jacobs sundresses, Coach bags, and a few Dolce and Gabanna tops. I’d never been wowed by designer brands, but the fabrics felt pr
ivileged and luxurious.

  With each outfit, I’d peak from behind the curtain, stepping out slowly and shyly, waiting for his generous reply as though I were a young girl who’d found a genie.

  “Keep going, I want you to have them all.”

  “This dress is my cell phone and electric bill, this one, my car, and insurance. I’ve got plenty,” I said, gathering two of my favorite dresses from the pile.

  “More than two, take what’s in the dressing room, and this purse, and what about shoes?”

  His kindness held steady in a state of disbelief as I continued to walk away with only two dresses. “Thank you, but I can’t. I insist. This is already too much.”

  “You’re an interesting woman, Hannah Adams. Most people would’ve ripped through this place with no regrets.”

  “I doubt that very much, I bet most would be appreciative.”

  “Well then, you’ve never said the words ‘shopping spree’ to anyone.”

  “You’re right about that,” I answered, stretching my bruised face into a smile.

  Gathering our bags, we began the walk back to the yacht. His hand laid gently on the small of my back. Although we were in town, the scent of cedar and algae followed us, a constant reminder that we were still in the high desert forest.

  I looked up at Matteo, his square jaw highlighted by the street lights as we passed. “Thank you so much for everything. I’ve never felt so cared for. And it’s not even the clothes. It was your time and attention. You have no idea how healing that is.”

  He stopped and looked down at me, sliding his hand just below my chin. “I’ll give you all my time if it makes you feel better.”

  A slight rush flew up my spine and into my head, leaving me a bit light-headed. “It’s just been so long since anyone has looked at me this way.”

  His eyes were still softly focused, “Sounds like everyone else has been wasting their time then.”

  His statement quieted me. Fourteen years had vanished so quickly as Matteo held me in his arms on our way back to his house—as though two lifetimes had passed in a single day.

  He walked me to the suite he was letting me borrow, leaning against the wall with my elbow cupped in his hand. “Buona note bella.” Warm air circled my ear, sending thousands of goosebumps writhing down my body.

  I imagined myself grabbing him, pulling him onto the bed, kissing his full lips with a fever I wasn’t sure I’d ever felt. Instead, I returned the night time wishes and closed the door.

  Chapter Six

  “Two bear cubs have lost their mom. They’re out near Apache… we are gonna need people out there ASAP,” Lyla confirmed over the walkie.

  I set the rake against the back wall of the shelter and hurried to the front desk to grab the go-bag. “Copy. Heading out now. See you in five?”

  “Can I follow along?” I looked up to see Matteo in his billionaire version of boy scout gear. His voice cut through my heart, saturating my body with foreign sensations.

  “What are you doing here? I thought you had a meeting today?”

  “I did. But I canceled it. I want to see what you do all day. Can I help?”

  “Um… yeah! Of course, you have your bug spray on?” I asked, grabbing the green bottle from the van. “They’re prehistorically sized out here!”

  Moments later, Lyla made her way to the driveway, stopping in her footsteps. Her eyes suddenly wider as she pulled back her head.

  “Matteo! I had such a great time the other night! I can’t wait to do it again! What are you doing here?” she asked, suddenly bouncing as she walked.

  “I wanted to see what you ladies do all day.”

  The ride was short to the entrance line in the woods, and soon, we were following the GPS signal on foot through thick pine to the cub's last known spot. A female bear had been hit by a car a few days ago. These were most likely her cubs. From the reports, they are too young to survive on their own.

  “Over here,” Lyla called, motioning for us to follow. She’d suddenly taken the lead in the rescue to impress Matteo I’m sure. Underneath a clearing in the trees, two quiet and hungry black bear cubs. Lyla and I put on thick gloves that extended to our elbows, lifting each small bear into our arms.

  “How old are they?” Matteo asked, confused by their size.

  I walked towards Matteo, holding the cub out for him to touch. “Twelve weeks maybe, this one’s only five or six pounds.”

  We carried the small cubs back to the van, housing them in crates as we took off to the center. When we arrived, Matteo helped as we prepared their bottles of evaporated milk and smoothed peaches, filling each bottle to the brim. Motioning for Matteo to sit on the nearby bench, I handed him the gloves, then a cub, and a bottle.

  “You hold them like this,” I said, gripping the other cub like a football on my lap while wiggling the nipple at his hungry lips. Within seconds they’d both latched, feverishly devouring their nutrients. I looked over at Matteo, his big brown eyes darting between watching his own little bundle and me.

  “I appreciate this. You coming down here and helping out.” In fourteen years, Daniel had never once shown interest in my work here. Let alone taken time to help. I watched as he fussed with the small bear, gently caring for him as he had me. Thoughts and words bubbled inside of me, my lips desperate to move despite lack of coherent thought. “I like being with you. You make me feel… things.”

  He smiled with his eyes, parting his lips slightly. “You make me feel things too. All the things I never quite have.” His comment was bold, subtle, mysterious. I wanted to devour the words, let them fill me up where I was broken. I looked down at the bear, still suckling away at his formula. Lyla now stood in the doorway. I wondered how much she’d heard.

  “What kinds of things haven’t you felt?” she asked, darting a deadpan look our way. Obviously uncomfortable, Matteo glanced towards me. I quickly looked back at Lyla to deflect the heat.

  “I’ve never felt… so upset,” I stated, gearing up to give a lecture on deforestation.

  “Developers come in and take over, which means more buildings and cars. The bears get hit, or they lose their homes. There should be more protection for them! We need to work harder to keep these innocent creatures safe!”

  Lyla lifted her hip and perched her hand above it, annoyed by my soapboxing. “She always gets so worked up about this stuff!”

  “I like how passionate you are,” Matteo declared, tipping the bottle to let the cub suck the last of the milk. I cringed, knowing Lyla was jealous. I didn’t want to make it worse, but I liked how Matteo had come to my defense.

  “No. It’s annoying,” I said, trying to bend Lyla’s shade of emerald towards anything but me. I’d never seen her so aggravated. She stood against the doorway with her face knotted and sour, wringing her small hands together as she watched the two of us interact.

  “We should all get lunch!” I announced, hoping the food would break the intensity.

  Lyla perked, showing interest. “Yeah! Matteo, we can grab some pizzas and bring them back for a picnic. Hannah’s super busy here anyway. Right, Han?” Her eyes darted out at me as though we had a secret girl code and I must agree or else. I glanced down at Matteo, still holding the bear cub, now screaming with bent eyebrows.

  “That sounds great!” I said, turning to take the baby bear from his arms, mouthing “Sorry” as I turned away.

  Moments later, they’d gone, and I went to cleaning enclosures and rehabbing with the fox. I couldn’t blame Lyla for wanting alone time with Matteo; he was like fire, people gathered around him. A buzz in my back pocket broke my concentration.

  Matteo: You owe me.

  Me: How so?

  Matteo: This girl is crazy! She asked me to call her mom.

  Me: LMAO, well… did you?

  Matteo: Not funny.

  An hour later, they were back with a large pie and some napkins. Lyla, clinging close to Matteo as though they’d evol
ved into a pair in that short hour.

  “Matteo was telling me that he played rugby when he was a kid, did you know that?” she asked, trying to one-up me on Matteo knowledge. “And, he spoke to my mom, who insisted he come for dinner Friday night.”

  I glanced at Matteo, his eyes bulging from their sockets. “How exciting! There are some water bottles in the van, can you grab them, Ly?”

  Matteo stopped and turned, looking at me as though he were a porcelain doll that had come to life. I laughed, harder than I probably should have, dropping sauce all over Matteo’s t-shirt.

  “What’s so funny?” Lyla asked, returning with cold water bottles.

  “Just making a mess,” I joked, wiping myself clean as Matteo helped.

  Lyla stood watching, her lips like a tight string across her face. “You are making quite the mess, aren’t you?”

  After that, lunch was quiet and awkward with Lyla saying little as she snuggled into Matteo with intent. She was careful not to pass any lines. Instead, tiptoeing up to the edge, peeking her head over—frantic to make an impression on this celebrity billionaire, as I thwarted off texts from Daniel.

  Daniel: That guy is a piece of shit, you’ll see.

  Daniel: You can come home now, or I’ll find you and make you come home.

  Me: I can’t do this anymore, you’ve hurt me too many times for too long. Stop texting me, or I’m calling the cops.

  The truth was, he's lucky I hadn’t already. I had every right in the world to press charges, but I’d chosen not to. Probably because I’m an idiot, and I still held some sick sympathy for him.

  “You okay?” Matteo asked, standing to move away from Lyla. “You look sick again, did he text you?” I handed Matteo my phone and let him read the texts.

  His face lit up, “You need to report this and get a restraining order and change your number!”

  “You should Han, I mean, you have a nasty divorce ahead of you,” Lyla announced, enunciating the nasty in divorce as though I were repellant for a certain billionaire, she could see I was getting close to. “You should stay with me tonight, Han. We can have a girls’ night. I’m sure Matteo has better things to do than worry about you.