Game of Love

by Ara Grigorian

  “How are you slackers doing this fine mornin’?” Andre asked.

  “Andres!” Linda yelled. She sprinted toward him. The others released a primal grunt and followed her.

  “Wait, wait!” Andre said, his hands up, hoping to thwart the attack. “Be gentle, I’ve–”

  The gang tackled him to the ground. In the pile-up, they punched him, poked him, and even kissed him.

  “Okay, enough!” he said, chortling through the persistent tickling. He sat up. “Really, guys?”

  “It’s your fault,” Chris said, and offered his hand to Andre. “You’re always with your uppity friends. How else are we supposed to keep you grounded?”

  “Yes, I feel grounded all right. My ass has a lot of ground in it.”

  “Too much information,” Sandy said.

  “Was that my outside voice?” Andre asked.

  Minutes after she had left Andre’s, Gemma had changed her mind. She would join him and his friends. She pulled into the parking lot and saw them–they were the only ones there. She stared in wonder as Andre’s friends helped him to his feet, then hugged and kissed him. How beautiful. She wondered if he realized how lucky he was to have so many friends. She had Tish, full stop.

  What are you doing here? You don’t know them. You don’t even know him. But she wanted to know him better. And on some level, she felt she did know him and understood him.

  One of the women there wrapped her arm around his waist then leaned her head on his shoulder. Who is she? Gemma took a deep breath, drank her water bottle empty, then raised her chin. “Right. Let’s do this.”

  She stepped out of her car and with a jolt of adrenaline inadvertently slammed the door. One of the women, with medium-length, dirty-blonde hair, turned. Gemma’s chest tightened. Just keep walking… left, right. Do. Not. Trip!

  The rest of the group turned.

  Andre swiveled slowly, then paused. She focused on him, his eyes. Gemma, she saw him mouth. His smile broadened as he let go of the woman he was holding and plowed through the sand toward her.

  His body pressed into hers when they hugged. “Thank you for coming,” he whispered. The wind ruffled his hair. “Glad you changed your mind.”

  She beamed. “Me too.” Her voice cracked.

  “You’re safe here. Just be you,” he said then paused. “The one I met on the plane–not the one at breakfast in Paris.” He winked then peered at his friends. “Family, I want you to meet my friend, Gemma. Please behave yourselves.”

  Gemma shook hands with the men, received a kiss on the cheek from the ladies, and was hugged by his cousin, Linda, the woman who had been holding Andre so tightly.

  Gemma felt torn, unsure how to act. Which Gemma? The reserved one who obsessed over everything that was said about her, or the Gemma who had let loose the day before? She had heard Andre, but it was hard to drop her guard.

  They sat under the canopy, and while the men studied the cliff, the ladies laid out snacks and drinks. Then she caught sight of the little girl–platinum blonde with hazel eyes and the cutest round belly.

  “How do you know Andre?” Sandy asked.

  “We met in Paris,” Gemma said.

  “As in, last week?” Linda asked.

  “That’s right.”

  Linda appeared to be studying Gemma. “You have such lovely eyes,” she finally said.

  “Thank you.” For an instant Gemma relaxed, but just as quickly she was worried again. She glanced over her shoulder, expecting the worst.

  “Don’t worry,” Linda whispered. “No one but surfers show up this early. You’ll be safe from wandering eyes.”

  “Do you climb?” Sandy asked. “My fiancé, Chris, may try to work you.”

  “Climb what? That?” Gemma asked. “Is he serious? That’s a flat wall.”

  “Dead serious,” Dan said as he slid under the canopy. “The good news is he also claims he’s a survival expert, so if you fall and break something, he’ll help you survive.”

  “As reassuring as that sounds, I’ll have to skip this go,” she said.

  She was nearly certain they recognized her, but beyond Linda, no one made reference to it. They treated her like a normal person. Gemma’s armor lowered.

  She watched Andre play with little Haley, who appeared to be taken by him as well. Haley giggled and snuck little peeks; a toddler being coquettish.

  “Okay, we’re ready to climb,” Chris said, calling the group into action. “Sandy, will you get the camera? Andre climbs first.”

  “Andre?” Gemma asked. “Are you insane? That looks awfully dangerous.”

  Andre winked. “I should be okay.”

  “Should?”

  Andre took off his shirt and tossed it on the sand. Her face went slack. Like the rock he was about to climb, he was made of stone. An absolute perfect structure.

  “Andre, what happened to your chest and shoulder? Are those burns?” Dina asked.

  “These things? Nah. They’re my beauty marks.” He eyed Gemma.

  Andre and Chris were adjusting their gear when Linda tugged on Andre’s elbow.

  “Should you be doing this?” she asked, concern etched on her face. “Why don’t you climb the other side instead?”

  He frowned. “What’s on your mind?”

  “Your contract. What if you get hurt? You know you have a no extreme sport clause. Should you be doing anything to jeopardize the contract? After all this time, is this worth it?”

  “Don’t worry. This is a simple climb. I’m not free-climbing it. I’ll be strapped in.”

  A beat. “Please be careful,” she said, then stepped away. Andre considered Linda’s advice as Chris cross-checked Andre’s gear. She was right, of course. Even if only an infinitesimal chance of injury existed, climbing was not smart. What if someone from the office saw him?

  “You’re good to go,” Chris said.

  Andre placed his hands on the cliff’s face, feeling the cool surface. A damp rock was riskier. He’d need to use more chalk. He was being bull-headed about this. He didn’t need to climb.

  “You okay, bro?” Chris asked.

  Why did he have to second-guess every aspect of his life? M&T controlled everything–even his latest vacation was on the verge of being cancelled. It was time to live the life he wanted. He’d climb if he wanted to climb.

  “Yeah, I’m great,” Andre said.

  But a knot at the base of his neck tightened. The morning headache was back.

  The waves crashed against the jagged rocks. The electrifying dissonant sounds of the waves and the howling wind replaced all others. Gemma sat on a boulder and watched Andre.

  “He’ll be fine,” Dan said. “He’s harnessed in. If he loses a hold, the worst will be a five-foot slip. He may get bruised, but not much more. The difficult part is that point up there.” He waved his hand toward a protrusion of rock near the top. “When he gets underneath that lip, he’ll have to leap to catch it before he can summit.”

  “That does not sound safe,” she said.

  “That part can get a bit ugly. If he doesn’t catch the lip, he’ll swing in an arc and hit the rock face. I’m sure he’ll protect his vitals.”

  “Dear Lord, I’m going to vomit.”

  “Nah, he’ll be fine,” Dan said as he took a hesitant step away, but stopped. “By the way, I hope you don’t mind me saying, but your match against Sonia was some of the best tennis I’ve seen in years. I’m looking forward to Wimbledon.”

  “Thanks… I appreciate that. But who were you cheering for?”

  He smiled. “I’ve always been partial to southpaws.”

  They do know me. Yet, they were comfortable with it, not star-struck at all. She was not used to this, but she could get used to it very quickly.

  Her mobile rang. It was Tish. What now? She considered answering it, then pressed Ignore.

  She trained her attention on Andre as he carefully placed his hands on the flat wall. Like a human spider, he grabbed the face of the rock and without hesi
tation, climbed. Fast. He practically leaped from one hold to the other. She’d seen rock climbers on TV, but what he was doing was different, as if on fast-forward.

  “He’s a natural speed climber,” Linda said.

  “Speed climber?”

  “When these guys climb, their goal is speed. Beyond physical strength, he’s like a chess player planning multiple moves ahead. As Andre climbs, he’s planning the path that’ll lead him to summit with the least effort.”

  “Is this related to his gift? The fact that he sees patterns?” Gemma asked.

  Gemma noted a hint of surprise in Linda’s eyes, but then a smile emerged. “Yes, exactly. Pattern recognition. He sees all the possible patterns, then eliminates options. You should try a parallel climb with him on the north face. You will not regret it.”

  “I have this little issue with heights,” Gemma said then bit her lip. She didn’t want this information to end up on a newsreel.

  “I understand, but maybe heights don’t have an issue with you.”

  Gemma grinned, then turned back to Andre. Right there at the beach, with the smell of the ocean, the scent of suntan lotion, and the sounds of the waves, seagulls, and wind, she was mesmerized by Andre, unwilling to take her eyes off him. He was amazing. She studied how his arms stretched, the way his legs spread from one foothold to another. He was magical.

  Just then, he stopped climbing.

  Linda straightened.

  “What’s wrong?” Gemma asked.

  “I don’t know.”

  She watched him twirl his head, as if relaxing his neck muscles. Then with the free hand, he squeezed his neck.

  “Oh, God,” Linda said. “I hope it’s not another one of his headaches.”

  Headaches? Gemma took a few steps toward Andre.

  “Are you okay?” Chris yelled up. Gemma stood next to Chris, watching intently.

  Andre turned to respond, but at that instant she locked eyes with him. He was a good thirty feet up, but she was certain he was locked on her. She wanted to help, she just didn’t know how. So she smiled up at him.

  Two, maybe three moments later, he shoved his free hand in the chalk bag, switched grips, chalked his other hand, and then yelled, “Climbing!” as he leapt to the next hold.

  He continued up as if nothing had happened.

  Gemma took a few steps back, next to Linda. “Bloody hell. What was that?”

  “Not sure.”

  Gemma held her breath when he reached the complex point Dan had identified, but Andre didn’t miss a beat. Another leap. With both hands he managed a wide grip on the lip, then pulled up. His muscular shoulders and back gave him the appearance of a bird spreading his wings. The rest was child’s play. He summited gracefully, then waved down at them.

  He rappelled in a few successive hops. Once down, he unhooked before jogging up to Gemma. His body shone like mist on a bronze statue. “Well? What’d you think?” he asked, slightly out of breath.

  She wanted to grab him, touch his body. Instead, she said, “Intoxicating. Simply intoxicating.”

  “It’s your turn.”

  “Are you mad?”

  “No, I’m quite happy.”

  “Bloody Yank. You know what I mean.”

  “Yeah, but I love it when you get irritated. Reminds me of the first time I met you. When was that? Six days ago?”

  “A lifetime,” she mused. “What happened to you up there?”

  He hesitated. “I thought I couldn’t go on.”

  “Yet you did. What changed?”

  “You. I saw your eyes. You’re like a shot of adrenaline.”

  She beamed.

  “Love all, but trust a few.”

  ~William Shakespeare

  hrough the early morning, the others climbed the north face. Each tried to convince Gemma to give it a try, explaining it was a simple climb, unlike the other one, but she wouldn’t bite. It was silly to even consider. She was a professional athlete. A cut on her hand could devastate her performance, much less something more significant, like a head injury.

  They were seated on towels under the canopy when Andre shuffled over to Gemma.

  “Gemma,” Andre said, his hair a bit messy. “Climb. I’ll climb next to you. Move for move, I’ll be there with you. Trust me.”

  She stroked his hair, her eyes trained on his. “I don’t trust anyone,” she said, then rose. “But I’ll trust you.”

  “Yes!” From his seated position he catapulted to his feet. “Chris, Linda, you’re on belay.”

  Those were not the words she meant to speak, but she couldn’t deny him, particularly when she was drowning in his warm, glistening eyes.

  Andre walked Gemma to the rock face. “The person at the base is your belayer. You and Chris are connected by the rope harnessed to you. It’s like an umbilical cord. The belayer is your anchor and watches you move-for-move to ensure you have enough rope and support. Most important, if you slip, he holds the rope tight, not allowing you to drop.”

  “Right. Good thinking. Dropping is not good.”

  “Let’s harness you in,” he said. He knelt on the sand and held out the harness. “Step into it.”

  She placed a hand on his head for balance and considered grabbing a handful of his black mane. As she stepped through each loop, his fingers dragged across her legs. Goose bumps ran up her back. He lifted the harness to her waist then circled behind her. Gemma’s will weakened. He put his hands around her waist, tightening the harness and looping the rope through. The contrast of fear and Andre’s hands on her body wreaked havoc.

  “You’re good to go,” he said as he tightened her helmet. “Let me grab my gear and we’re ready to climb.”

  “Are you ready?” Chris asked Gemma.

  “No. But to hell with it. Let’s climb this bastard.”

  “That’s the attitude.” Chris fist-pumped.

  With that, they started to climb.

  Andre remained close on her left, carefully explaining where to place her hands and feet. He leaned in when he needed to point to good holds–meatballs, as he called them.

  She was an athlete. She knew how to use her body and execute on any challenge, but the truth was she wanted him close. As close as possible, so she could breathe his scent, feel his gaze, and touch the veins that swelled with his muscles.

  Things were progressing well until her foot slipped. Both hands maintained a solid grip with one foot still planted, but none of that mattered. She broke into full-body perspiration and did the worst thing possible. She peered down. They were over twenty feet up. One knee shook uncontrollably.

  “Tight!” Andre yelled down. “Talk to me. You okay?”

  “Frightened out of my fuckin’ mind. I want to go back down.”

  He moved in close and touched the small of her back. “I’m here. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

  “I’m freaking out.”

  “If you want to go down, we’ll go down, but before we go, look toward the ocean. Take it in. It’ll be yours to keep forever.”

  Gemma’s face was plastered against the rock, her hair clung to her sweaty face, her helmet askew. He brushed her hair out of her face.

  Summoning courage, she turned toward the ocean. Her breathing labored, but one look, and she discovered an overwhelming surplus of untapped oxygen. The ocean was an infinite pool of melted silver. For the first time, she appreciated the insignificance of man in the hands of nature. She was on the cover of every magazine, but she was nothing compared to what she was witnessing. The wind picked up, pulling her body away from the rock. She tightened her grip, allowing the breeze to swirl around her, dissipating her sweat and anxiety.

  She faced Andre. “Let’s keep climbing.”

  He smiled his lovely, encouraging smile. “Climbing!” he yelled down.

  His instructions came as if from a conductor leading instruments into a crescendo, but she was getting the feel of it now. They were in perfect harmony with each other, and within moments, reached th
e summit and burst out laughing.

  The gang below cheered, though Gemma could barely hear them over the sound of surf and wind.

  “I can’t believe it. I actually climbed this monster!” She threw her arms up in victory. “Not in my wildest dreams. This is awesome!” Unadulterated joy took over mind and body.

  She turned to Andre and without thought or consideration, pulled his face to hers.

  Their lips melted in the midmorning sun. Their bodies clung against each other as Gemma’s body hummed. For a moment, they were alone in the world, their lips unwilling to part. Then her eyes popped open and she pulled away slowly until their lips separated. “I’m… I didn’t mean to…” She took a step back, but he held her hand.

  His eyes were alert. “If we climb again, will I get another?”

  His smile melted her. She wanted nothing more than to give him another. And another.

  Gemma sat on the sand, thinking of that kiss. As wonderful as it had been, she had made a grave mistake. What part of kissing him on a public beach had sounded like a good idea? Thankfully, no one had been up there, and it was still early. At least that’s what she hoped.

  A week ago she was in Paris playing for her life. Now, she was in Los Angeles, living for once. Life took such quick and drastic turns sometimes.

  Under the canopy, Andre talked to Linda, who nodded and went to a large beach bag. From there she pulled out a blue jacket, then jogged over to Gemma.

  “In case you’re cold,” Linda said, the smile on her face making it clear there was more to the offering.

  “But I’m not cold.”

  Linda leaned down. “He’s worried someone will notice you or your tattoo, then ruin your day. He’s being a protective ape-man.”

  Gemma grinned. “I’ve always had a thing for primates.”

  Linda, looking content, practically skipped away. Gemma slid on the hoodie then glanced at Andre as he jogged over.

  “You look good in blue,” Andre said.

  “Is that your new pickup line?”

  “Yes. I hope it worked. Let’s take a walk.”