Riding the Wave

by Allyson Lindt

  Annoyed to contrite in under ten minutes. He typed back a quick note. This time ;) Besides, I was a jerk too.

  Buy me dinner tonight, and I’ll forgive you? she replied. You can pick how you’d like to make things right.

  He couldn’t turn down a request like that. I’ll start thinking about it now.

  Dinner that night was less eating and more discovering the counters in her apartment were the perfect height to fuck her on. He hated going home at the end of the night, but like at the end of the weekend at the beach house, the agreed it was the best way for them to get some sleep and keep the rumors at bay.

  He had to work in the office the next three days. He didn’t like leaving her to fend for herself, but it wasn’t as though he’d have a choice even if he were there.

  They met up each night, at his place or hers, for some combination of takeout and screwing. It wasn’t any easier to walk away from her at the end of the night on Tuesday or Wednesday.

  Thursday night, they sat on his couch, in his condo, Trina curled up in his lap. They were still dressed, which was a first for the week. Gaming or movies had been proposed, but he didn’t want to let her go long enough to find the remotes, and she wasn’t complaining.

  “We have all weekend,” she said.

  He winced. “About that...”

  “You’re hooking up with your other girlfriend?” Doubt crept into her teasing.

  She couldn’t know how much the playful jab would hurt. He hadn’t told her about what was going on with his ex. He’d also neglected to tell her he wasn’t going to be in town.

  “I’m flying to Florida tomorrow, to work with one of the parks down there. I won’t be back until Monday night.” It might take some getting used to, sharing his plans in advance.

  “Oh. That’s cool.” Her disappointment was audible. “Florida is pretty.”

  He kissed along the nape of her neck. “You could come with me. Call in sick to work. Tell them you have a family emergency.”

  “I want to.” Her smile was back. He loved that look. “But I don’t think I should. I’m working on this big install for this big client”—she squirmed in his lap—“and I want to make a good impression.”

  “You’ve already made an incredible impression.” He pressed his lips to her skin, then glided along her jaw, to her mouth. “Maybe next time.” He liked the sound of next time. Was that where they were headed? Toward some sort of commitment?

  He wasn’t fooling himself. He was most of the way there. They weren’t calling it dating, but he didn’t know what else it would be. Something else occurred to him. “It’s funny. I’m not afraid of you using that offer against me.”

  “Why would I do that?”

  “You wouldn’t.” And he liked that certainty.

  She laughed. “Let me rephrase my question. Why would anyone do that?”

  A sudden hesitation nudged him. They hadn’t talked about anything beyond the superficial yet, as though delving into their real lives would shatter the mood. “You don’t want to know. It’s boring, personal-life stuff.”

  TRINA WASN’T SURE WHAT to make of Spencer’s statement, besides that it hurt. Did she misinterpret that they were getting closer? “You trust me not to blackmail you over a trip to Florida, for some unknown reason, but not enough to tell me why?”

  “You don’t want to talk about what’s happening at work. I figure you also don’t want to hear about what’s going on with my ex-wife.”

  A stone sank in her gut. Was she really that abrasive? Or just that bad at reading what they had? “Of course I want to hear it. If it’s causing you stress, I’m here to listen. And I thought we both apologized and moved past the work thing.”

  He seemed to relax under her. Hands on her hips, he slid her so she sat on the couch and he was looking at her. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes. Definitely.”

  “So... I was married.”

  She let a smile slip out. “I know. And if I didn’t, the whole ex-wife comment kind of gave you away.”

  “Right.” He let out a shaky breath. “When we met, we were all stars in our eyes and in love. Fortunately, though I wasn’t thinking clearly, Mischa made me have a prenup agreement drawn up.”

  That didn’t sound right. “Same Mischa I know?”

  “He was stuck in the middle of his own bad contract. Anyway, turned out his was right, and my heart was wrong. She cheated on me a few years later, and that was the end of that.”

  “Oh.” How was Trina supposed to react to his statement? I’m glad didn’t seem appropriate, but in a way it was true. “I’m... sorry?” She cringed.

  “Don’t be.” He kissed her on the tip of the nose. “It should be in the past, but a few weeks ago she came back with a claim that I cheated on her first, and she’s got a very specific date range around a trip I took to Salt Lake. If it were true, she’d be entitled to half of everything, including Ride & Surf. My ex-assistant has all the receipts and also claims to be the then-object of my affection.”

  “That sucks. But you told her she was a liar with her pants on fire, and to fuck off. Right?”

  Spencer laughed. “Something like that. You didn’t ask me if it was true.”

  “It’s not. I trust you.” Maybe that was dumb, but for all the things she had wrong, she couldn’t doubt what she saw in Spencer. “Besides, you stayed with Tristan on that trip to Salt Lake, so if you brought someone with you, you left her alone in your room an awful lot.”

  Shit. Trina clamped her jaw shut. She shouldn’t have said so much. Would he think she was a stalker if he found out how she knew that?

  He studied her with a frown. “Tristan didn’t give me that much detail. I emailed and asked him. He remembers we went to dinner and not much else.”

  “June seventh. You flew in at four, met him at five, and went to dinner at The Old Spaghetti Factory.” She couldn’t believe she was admitting to having this knowledge, but if they were going to be open with each other, and it could help him, she needed to. “You were there for a couple of hours, then you went to the bar. It’s not there anymore, but it was on the corner of State and 72nd, across the street from a little diner that’s been there for ages.

  “He was the designated driver. You got wasted. He took you back to his place and let you crash in the guest room, so he could take you back to your rental in the morning.”

  Spencer stared at her, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape. “I vaguely remember things like that have happened. How do you know that, down to the date?”

  “Have I mentioned yet, that I’ve had a huge crush on you, pretty much forever?” God, this was awkward. Not as much as it would be if they weren’t sleeping together, but still bad. “I was thrilled when you and Tristan started talking again, because”—she took a deep breath—“I used to stalk you when you were in town, and the only reason my friends put up with it was because they liked him.”

  “Wow. Didn’t see that coming.”

  Was he mad?

  “Do you have this kind of details about all my trips to Salt Lake?” Spencer asked.

  “No. I can tell you random stuff, but this trip was different.”

  “How?”

  “It was the day I graduated high school. A few of us were supposed to spend the day shopping and celebrating, and I may have swiped Tristan’s schedule, to find out where you would be at dinner time. I was so surprised you two never saw us. We spent the night watching and giggling. But I mean—proof, right? You can tell the courts you weren’t sleeping with someone else on that trip.”

  “Jesus fuck.” Spencer pinched the bridge of his nose.

  That wasn’t what she expected. “What’s wrong?”

  “I can’t tell anyone that. I’m certainly not saying it under oath.”

  “Why not?”

  He scrubbed his face. “My proof that I didn’t cheat on my wife is a girl thirteen years younger than me, who was stalking me when she was barely legal, who—by the way—I’m sleeping with now. Not
that she’s biased in any way. And while we’re at it, please don’t mention this to her boss, because she’s also employed by of one of my most lucrative vendors.

  “But she’s not making any of this up. It’s all true. I swear it, your honor.”

  “I’m telling the truth.” She understood where he was coming from, but she didn’t like the mocking in his voice.

  “Do you think that matters?”

  Trina fumbled for a response. “They’re listening to a woman who happens to have your travel information, because it was her job to make the arrangements. Why wouldn’t they listen to me?”

  “They’re not listening to me, and I was a faithful doting husband for years.”

  “Maybe your story isn’t ludicrous enough.” Irritation was creeping into her tone.

  “I’m not trying to hurt you or be cruel.”

  She scowled and scooted away when he reached for you. “So sorry for taking that the wrong way. I wonder why I might possible be defensive about someone telling me, your story is good, but it’s just not believable because you’re pretty and friendly.”

  “That’s not—” He clenched his jaw. “That’s not what I’m saying, and you know it.”

  She did, but his delivery hurt. “It’s fine. It’s also late. I need to get home.” She stood. “Have a good trip.” It felt wrong to walk out the door without stealing a goodbye kiss or waiting for his response, but she didn’t need to say anything else—expose any more of herself—that she’d regret later.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Spencer flopped back against the couch with an unf, rather than chasing Trina down. He wasn’t going to do this. Could he have phrased some of his responses more tactfully? Sure. But he wasn’t interested in measuring every single fucking word, in order to have a conversation.

  She was hurt because he wasn’t more open with her. Then she was pissed when he was honest about how he felt. She took out her frustrations on him because her colleagues treated her badly. And when she was tired of listening to what he had to say, she stormed out of the room.

  It was a good thing they hadn’t defined their relationship after all. The past week was fun, and what led up to it was good too, but he didn’t have the desire to wait while she matured enough to talk through things.

  The thought chewed at his insides and ached in his joints. He brushed the response aside and went to pack for his trip.

  His sleep was filled with snippets of the past—like a student dreaming about not being prepared for an exam, except in this nightmare he was confronting Mia about cheating. And this time she didn’t have to wait several more years to demand his property; she took it outright.

  He was in a foul mood Friday morning. It was tempting to ghost Trina. Consider her tantrum the end of things. He couldn’t do that, though. He sent her a message saying they should get together Monday evening, when he was back, if she was free. He set the device to airplane mode before she could reply, and left to catch his plane.

  Her reply was waiting when he disembarked several hours later. It said, All right.

  Thank God she wasn’t offering another apology she would go back on next time they didn’t see eye to eye. The sarcastic thought tasted acrid in the back of his throat.

  As with all of his properties, he’d taken this trip dozens of times since he opened the Tampa theme park. This should have been a routine visit, making sure everything was running as expected, checking in with management and employees, etcetera.

  Instead, every few minutes, he found himself thinking about how much fun Trina would be having if she were with him. It didn’t help that she called several times over the weekend. He ignored every one.

  On some level, you’re being as immature as she is.

  No. He wasn’t taking any shit. He didn’t compromise, and he didn’t let people walk all over him.

  This situation is different. She’s different.

  Nope. He told himself the same thing about Mia. One excuse led to the next, and down that path lay madness. Or something.

  And ignoring it means loneliness.

  If that was the consequence, then so be it.

  TRINA DRAGGED HER WAY through Friday and spent large portions of her weekend staring at the TV, trying to find the urge to do something. She wanted to send a long, rambling apology to Spencer, but she was torn. She didn’t care for the way he belittled her offer of help with his ex, though she knew she’d overreacted.

  She called a few times, but he didn’t answer. Probably because he was working. She wanted him to get back, so they could talk things through face to face. That was the only way it would feel right.

  His couldn’t get home fast enough.

  Monday morning, she dragged herself to the work site. Seeing Doug's car in the parking lot didn’t help her mood, and knowing there was no chance of a surprise visit from Spencer killed any chance the coffee had of being effective.

  “Hey.” Brian smiled at her when she walked in the front door. At least someone was happy to see her. “Cody said you need to stop by the office when you get in.”

  That didn’t sound good. “Why didn’t he text me?”

  Brian shrugged. “I’m just the messenger.”

  She wasn’t happy about having to turn and drive half an hour in another direction through morning traffic, but it was a couple hours’ reprieve from dealing with Doug, and she was good with that.

  She reached the office, mood on par with what it had been for the past few days.

  “Trina. Hi.” The receptionist waved her down when she walked in. “Cody asked that you wait for him in the conference room when you got in.”

  “Great. Thanks.” Trina headed that way. Her coffee sat heavy in her stomach, chewing at the lining and making her ill. Or it was her mounting unease about the situation that made her want to vomit.

  She took a seat at the conference table, and knotted her fingers together to avoid drumming them on the table.

  A few minutes later, Cody walked into the room, holding a banker’s box, Janna by his side. “Thanks for coming down here. I know it was a bit of an inconvenience, and I apologize for that,” Cody said.

  Trina had gotten a lot of practice in smiling sweetly through her irritation the past week. “It’s not a problem. I go where you need me to.”

  He placed the box on the ground, and he and Janna sat across from her.

  Janna had a manila folder, and she fiddled with the corner. “There are some things in our company policy that we issue warnings for. We prefer to do that. However, there are other actions that we have a no-tolerance stand about.”

  “I understand.” But Trina didn’t. She had no idea what this had to do with her.

  “Fraternizing with clients is one of those no-tolerance things,” Janna said.

  Fuck me. “I’ve known Spencer Powell most of my life. He’s a family friend. That was never a secret.” She squeezed her fingers harder, to keep from rambling.

  “This is more than that. We have reports you’ve been acting inappropriately with him. I’m sorry. We’re letting you go.”

  Anger and disbelief swelled inside. She wanted to fight back and argue that they couldn’t accuse her of something like this simply because she had a friendship with Spencer and was also female. A counter like that wouldn’t hold weight, though. Especially if they asked her point blank if the rumors were true. She didn’t think she could lie about that.

  Janna slid the folder across the table. “This is your termination paperwork. Take your time to read and sign. Cody brought in contains the items from your desk.. You’ll have to surrender the apartment within two weeks of your termination date, as per your original contract.”

  The next bit passed in a blur for Trina. Mostly because she was doing her best to hide her tears and hurt. She refused to let these people see they had any impact on her.

  They didn’t deserve the satisfaction of knowing how she felt.

  The tears broke free when she was in her car and alone. She swallowed t
he sobs as she drove, because there was no other way to make it home, and she needed to make it home.

  The moment Trina was safe in her apartment, she stopped holding back. She collapsed on the couch and cried until her chest ached and her eyes were raw and she couldn’t breathe.

  It didn’t solve anything, but the void it left inside was better than feeling.

  She stumbled into the bathroom, to wash her face. The person who stared back in the mirror looked desperate and helpless, and anger surged inside. She refused to let that be her.

  If she was done here, she needed to pack. Work to find a new job, but more likely plan on going home. Part of her wanted to run to Spencer for comfort, but the way their last conversation ended rushed back.

  She couldn’t see him tonight. She desperately wanted to, but if he didn’t understand, it would break her. And if he did understand, she would crumble.

  With a little time to collect herself, it would be fine, but not today. She sent him a text.

  Hope you had a good flight. I know you wanted to talk, but I can’t do it tonight. I’m sorry.

  His response came through a few seconds later. Give me ten minutes? I’d rather see you in person.

  Her resolve wavered at the thought, and she steeled herself before replying, I can’t. Maybe tomorrow. I don’t know yet. She didn’t trust herself to be rational with him. She’d been fired for sleeping with him, and he got to go on with his life. It wasn’t his fault, but she might not be able to keep that in mind if he asked her something like why she didn’t fight the decision.

  I didn’t want to do this over text, but I won’t drag it out.

  The message from Spencer made her gut churn. Okay? she typed.

  Things aren’t working between us. We had a lot of fun, but I can’t see you anymore. It’s over.

  She stared at the message in disbelief, blinking several times, to make sure she read it right. So many responses vied to be said. All she could manage was Okay, before she threw her phone at the wall.

  And then the tears started again.