He didn’t. “Yeah. Whatever. Listen, I’ve told you now and I’ll tell you again, I don’t like what all this has done to you. I still think he’s yanking you around and I don’t like it. Now he’s got you thinking you’re his girlfriend instead of his call girl.”
My chest tightened and I cleared my throat. “Not at all. We aren’t dating and there’s been no discussion about boyfriends or girlfriends or whatever. And I’ve already decided that once I get back from the Caribbean we aren’t going to see each other again.” Some unknown force coiled itself around my chest and tightened when I finally gave voice to the thoughts that had preoccupied me for the previous few hours.
Heath paused. “And he knows that?”
I squeezed my eyes closed and uttered the lie in a completely normal tone of voice. “Yeah, sure. He agrees with me.”
“And you aren’t going to sleep with him?”
“No.”
“So you aren’t going to see him again. You aren’t going to sleep with him. Why are you even going on the trip?”
I cleared my throat. “Because I promised I would.”
“I still don’t get it. But if you do end up letting him sleep with you, just remember the old saying about buying the milk when you can get the cow for free.”
“Shut the hell up. I’m not a cow.” I laughed, but the laugh had a manic quality about it, like I was on the edge of some weird kind of panic.
***
For Sunday evening family dinner, we made it to Adam’s uncle’s house early. Britt and her family had not yet arrived. Uncle Peter had the fixings for beef and chicken kabobs lined up to barbecue and I helped him spear them onto the sticks in preparation for cooking. Within minutes Adam pulled himself away to deal with a “quick issue at work” over the computer.
I was concentrating on pushing slimy pieces of raw chicken onto the wooden stakes without gagging. Raw chicken always grossed me out.
“So how’s the studying for your MCAT coming along?” Peter surprised me by breaking his usual silence to make conversation.
“Oh. Not so good. I keep getting distracted.”
“You need to tell him to leave you alone so you can study.”
I smiled, popping a cherry tomato onto my stick. “Oh, I can’t blame it all on him.”
“Adam’s a wonderful boy and I love him like he’s my son. He is my son in many ways. But he can be overbearing sometimes.”
That was an understatement. I picked up a chunk of sweet onion and kept going. “I’m not going to argue with you about that.”
“He’s strong willed. Always has been. It’s how he’s gotten where he is. But you are going to have to get tough with him when he gets like that with you. He’ll respect you for it.”
I suppressed a smile. My standing up to him aggravated him more than it engendered any respect, as far as I could tell.
“I hope you stick it out,” said Peter after a long pause. “He’s happier than I’ve seen him in a long time.”
My face burned, and I suddenly wished he’d change the subject. “That’s good to know,” I said quietly. “So, how many of these chicken kabobs am I making?”
And with relief, the subject was ditched. A good thing, too, because the doorbell rang and Adam called that he would get it. A few minutes later, he entered the kitchen with Lindsay and some younger man I’d never met.
I hadn’t known that Peter had invited his work colleague or I would have prepared myself for the casual gutting with the eyes she usually tossed my way. I took a deep breath and pasted on a fake smile. Lindsay didn’t bother, but moved up beside Peter, gave him a kiss and handed him a bottle of wine. “Thanks for having us over. It’s been ages.”
As usual, she was put together impeccably. Flawless makeup, beautiful clothes. She wore spiky heels and a designer dress—for a family barbecue. She was poised, elegant. I felt awkward and tomboyish next to her. And though she’d never been openly hostile to me, I also felt defensive around her—and downright aggressive whenever she went within three feet of Adam. Which, unfortunately, was often. And that wretched habit she had of touching him. It made my blood pressure soar.
After our kabobs by the pool, Adam quickly excused himself to take yet another phone call. Inside the house, I wandered down the hall to look at William’s figurines again. He wasn’t in the room but I hoped he wouldn’t mind my getting a closer look.
I wasn’t alone long, however, because Lindsay tucked her head inside the room and froze when I turned to meet her gaze. To my astonishment, instead of leaving, she entered.
“Hey,” I said awkwardly.
Lindsay looked around the room. “This is Liam’s room, you know, not Adam’s.”
I nodded. “Yeah, I knew that. I was coming to get another look at the figurines.”
“Oh yeah, his little statues. He’s spent hours on those for years. Poor guy.”
I looked at her in surprise. “He seems quite happy.”
Lindsay shrugged. I’d noticed little interaction between her and William. In fact, it seemed like William had studiously avoided her.
“I’ve known this family for a long, long time,” she said, giving her little factoid dump a nonchalant air but saying something completely different with her meaning. As if her having known Adam longer gave her some kind of weird seniority over me. I didn’t reply, replacing a tiny huntress on the shelf and picking up a musketeer.
Lindsay cleared her throat. “So how long have you and Adam been together?” she asked in that same blasé tone as she moved toward a bookcase that held some trophies. I squinted. They looked like track trophies but I couldn’t see the name on them. They must have been Adam’s.
And I had no idea at all how to answer her question. “Not very long.” I said.
“Really,” she said and I wondered when she’d spring her previous relationship with Adam on me. I almost yawned. How very predictable.
Surprisingly, she didn’t.
“Has he stood you up for work yet?”
I shrugged. “Once or twice,” I lied, wondering what she would do with that.
Lindsay looked taken aback. “It’s still new. You don’t have to worry much yet.”
“Worry? What about?”
“Adam’s a married man,” Lindsay said as she took out a trophy from the bookcase, studying it. The light reflected off the metal plate and I could easily see Adam’s name and his event—the Hundred-Yard Dash. First place. 2002.
My stomach dropped at her words. Adam? A married man? “What?”
She turned to me with an enigmatic, almost condescending smile. “He’s married to his first love: work. I’m afraid no woman could compete and will always come a distant second.”
What a shitty thing to say to someone whom she thought her “friend” was dating. Did she mean to scare me away?
“I’m always up for a good challenge.”
We were interrupted when Adam appeared in the doorway. Lindsay replaced the trophy and turned toward him with a smile. Adam looked at me. “We have to get going. Something came up at work. I gotta run in for a little while.”
I wished I hadn’t looked at Lindsay after he said it. The knowing smile she shot me made my blood boil. Adam had just confirmed every crappy thing she had just said.
He waited for me at the doorway, then took my hand and turned and bid Lindsay good-bye.
Okay, she was annoying but she wasn’t terrible. In fact, she could have been a lot worse. She had said some things that were blunt but nothing that was untrue. Anyone who knew Adam for any amount of time—and in my case, only a month—would have to be an idiot to not figure out he had a serious problem with work.
But it didn’t matter to me. It couldn’t matter. It was some other woman’s problem. Some distant woman in the future, maybe when he was forty, like he’d said. As we drove home and as those thoughts raced through my head, I felt twinges collecting in my chest, making it hard to breathe deeply.
My fists closed in determination. There wa
s no future for us. There could never be. Our lives were speeding in completely different directions and our beginning had almost predestined one certain ending.
But I couldn’t commit to it with everything in me. Something was holding me back. Something deep inside didn’t want to see the end. When he pulled up at the curb, I didn’t move to get out of the car.
He turned and looked at me expectantly. “What’s up?” he asked.
I turned to him. “Why did you bid on the auction?”
He expelled a long breath, ran a hand through his hair and looked out the windshield ahead of him. The question had clearly taken him by surprise.
When he didn’t respond, I continued. “I know, now, how you must feel about this situation—because of what—because of your sister. And I totally understand that. But what I don’t understand is why you chose to participate in the first place.”
He shrugged and sent me a sidelong glance. “Do you have to? The point is that I did.”
I shook my head. “Adam—”
He pointedly looked at his watch. “You’ve got an early shift tomorrow if I remember correctly. And I have to get to the complex.” He opened his door, slammed it and came around to mine. I slowly exited, glowering up at him, but he studiously avoided my gaze.
At the doorstep when he bent to kiss me, I turned my face away. I wasn’t ready to give up yet. “This is a game for you, isn’t it?” I whispered, my teeth clenching.
He frowned. “You’re twisting things again.”
“Why am I going with you to the Caribbean?”
“Because I want you to,” he said without hesitation.
“But why? We aren’t—” He bent and cut me off when his mouth landed on mine. His large hand wrapped around my jaw, holding me in place while he explored my mouth with his. When he pulled away, his eyes held mine in a mesmerizing stare. I could see the reflection of myself in there—like staring into two tiny dark mirrors.
“I’m not going to discuss this with you now.”
“Will you discuss it with me later?”
His face took on a pensive expression. “Yes. Definitely. After the trip.”
I opened my mouth to protest. We weren’t going to see each other after the trip. But I remembered at the last minute that I hadn’t explicitly told him that. It was my sole decision. And I hadn’t told him about that or returning the money. So I clamped my mouth shut and said good-bye.
He had secrets, yes. But so did I.
Chapter Thirteen
The Perks of Being a Hot Chick…Posted on the blog of Girl Geek on May 31, 2013
According to statistics, the players of MMORPGs skew much higher toward the male population than the female. But have you ever wondered why, in spite of that fact, there are so many bikini-clad females running around the plains of Yondareth in search of adventure?
There is a young man in my guild who will only play female characters. Every time he is asked why in guild chat, he gives a different answer. Sometimes it’s because he wanted to play in-game with a friend (a female) who had a jealous boyfriend and he didn’t want her to get in trouble. Sometimes he says it’s because if he has to stare at his avatar all day, he’d rather be staring at a lithe, sexy tree elf in a chainmail teddy than at some idiot, doofy dude with a tin can on his head for armor.
But, dear readers, I think I’ve gotten to the bottom of the real reason why he plays girls instead of guys. I have conducted a “scientific experiment” and the results are conclusive. Chicks get more free stuff as beginning characters than their male counterparts.
Case in point: Borrowing my friend’s laptop, I created two different toons on the same server, both exactly the same but for one tiny detail. One was a sexy, scantily-clad underdark elf named SmokinHawt, and the other was a gangly almost adolescent-looking tree elf male who carries a branch as a shield, named Poindexter. In the same newbie area, chopping away at bats, spiders and skeletons, I ran them both around, asking for free stuff.
“Buff pls?” I’d ask the high-level healers for their blessings. Nine times out of ten, SmokinHawt received their beneficence. Seven times out of ten, poor Poindexter was ignored.
“Got any free stuff?” I’d ask while gesturing with submissive actions, bowing, scraping and saluting. SmokinHawt was fully clad in level-appropriate armor within the first hour. Poindexter was given a rusty sword and a dented shield after a few hours of begging.
It didn’t stop there. SmokinHawt got gold, quest items and general pats on the back—along with flirtatious gestures and in-game messages. Poindexter was neglected and died approximately thirteen times.
Thus, after having conducted this thoroughly-unscientific double-blind study, I have come to the conclusion that the young men who prefer playing female toons do so for purely mercenary reasons. Because their bank accounts fill up much faster that way!
Gold diggers of Yondareth, beware: I am on to you!
***
We flew first class to St. Lucia a few days later. And I was thankful for that because it was a long trip. From LAX to Miami alone was almost six hours with a layover and then another eight hours on to the Hewanorra International Airport in St. Lucia.
As our plane approached the lush Caribbean island, the first thing I noticed was the gorgeous colors of the water—brilliant blues and bright greens—and then the jagged, pointed mountains, called pitons, all covered in green. And finally the rooftops, each one a different color—turquoise, orange, copper green, red. I sat up with excitement, gazing out the window, my mouth hanging open. I’d always dreamed of seeing the Caribbean. And here I was, stepping into the dream once again.
Adam noticed my excitement, watching me with my face pressed up against the window like a puppy on his first car ride. “Excited?”
“Yes! I even bought a new swimsuit.”
“Good.”
I’d also brought all three of the fancy dresses he’d given me and the adorable sundress that Heath had picked out for me at Harrods.
“Wait till you see where we are staying.”
I turned to him, grinning. “It’s going to be hard to top that place in Amsterdam.”
He smiled. “I agree it would be hard, but this place does. Of course, I may be a little biased because I am a part owner, but it’s a pretty amazing luxury resort. I’ll let you form your own opinion about it.”
Luxury resort.
And he wasn’t kidding about that. Emerald Sky, it was called, and it climbed one of the verdant green hills I had seen from the air, designed to look as if it had sprung from the mountain itself.
Each room was more than a room—it was an entire luxury suite in itself with three walls. The side overlooking the bay was completely open. With warm weather all year round, it wasn’t necessary to enclose them though I did notice brackets for retractable walls in case of storms. Stacked on top of each other and climbing the hill, the suites were also completely private. And the most amazing feature of all: each suite had its own indoor infinity pool.
As an owner, Adam was given one of the two Universe rooms, which, I learned, were the best rooms in the hotel. When we were shown in, I walked around with my mouth wide open. The infinity pool, tiled in glass jewel-tones, hung on the edge of the fourth wall and it was bigger than my kitchen. Beside it, there was a table for dining and a seating area. Behind and tucked off into the corner was a king size bed with pale white netting tied to the four dark wood posts. There was a kitchenette to the rear of the suite and every luxury. Even given the gorgeous blue waters and white sand beaches that looked like they were made out of talcum powder, I wasn’t sure I ever wanted to leave the suite.
“This—this is—amazing,” I finally said after Adam had watched me with open amusement as I tripped around the large space, inspecting everything.
“Are you tired? Do you want a nap?”
“I want a swim!” I said.
And he smiled. “We have a reception with the manager of the hotel for dinner, but I’m free until then. And
then I’m in meetings most of the day tomorrow, so I made some arrangements with our majordomo for you to have a tour of the area, maybe a little snorkeling if that’s something that interests you.”
I looked down at the rainbow tones of the glass tiles underneath shimmering blue water. “I want to try out this pool.”
He shot me an arresting smile. “Now that I can get interested in.”
I found the bathroom—back behind the bed and a few steps up. It, too was open to the outside but still quite private, even from someone who was standing below. I quickly changed into my black and white bikini—it was gorgeous and made me feel sexy and it hadn’t been overly expensive. And thanks to another splurge—leg waxing, ouch—and a manicure and pedicure, I felt resplendent, glamorous, full of energy and excitement and not my usual scruffy self. I had stepped into the princess dream again.
I was already in the pool and of course he’d pulled out the dreaded laptop to check on work—lest the world had fallen in while he was on his flight. I was irritated at first but also relieved that it didn’t take much taunting to entice him into the pool. He changed and got in with me. We swam, talked, flirted.
We talked about the game, of course. He was still clam-mouthed about the clues I wanted, though he wasn’t above throwing more red herrings out with a playful gleam in his eye.
I asked him about his past. “So how did it all start? When did you find out you had a gift with programming?”
He squinted out over the bay, arms hooked over the edge. “We weren’t well off, after my dad died. And we moved around a lot. Somewhere along the line I acquired this secondhand Gameboy.” He smiled. “That thing was my prized possession, but I only had a few games for it. And I got bored with them after a while. So I hacked into it and started writing my own games.”
My brows shot up. “That’s amazing. How old were you?”
He grimaced. “I’m not going to tell you because then you’ll call me an even bigger nerd.”
I shook my head, laughing. “Not possible. Your nerdness is pretty huge as it is.” And then I blushed, realizing my words could be interpreted another way.
At Any Price (Gaming The System) Page 22
