by Julia Gray
“Uh, Mikki?” Paul pops his head over the cubicle wall.
“Yes?”
“The coffee orders,” he continues. “I’ve called them in. All you have to do is pick them up.”
“Of course,” I nod. I stand and brace myself for the long walk back to the lobby. The coffee shop is down the street, and Main Street is next to the beach. I’ll have a nice ocean view to gawk at on my way back. My desk is in a room with no windows.
My back feels tense. I put a fake smile on my face, the one I practiced at home. I pass a few cubicles and attorney offices. I gulp, seeing my co-workers look up as I pass. My cheeks feel hot.
Don’t blush. Whatever you do don’t blush. That’s so lame.
I rush all the way to the elevators without looking back. I didn't think it was possible to feel claustrophobic before even getting into a small space. It is. My stomach is already hurting. The elevator door dings and I step inside. The walls are metal. I’m surrounded by my reflection. I can’t look at myself, so instead, I look down at the floor like always.
The elevator door dings again. Finally.
I push through the front doors and inhale the fresh air. I can smell the ocean. I hear the waves crashing against the rocks. The sun peeks through scattered clouds and beats down on my pale skin. If only I could sit in the sand all day and listen to the ocean tide. I could spend my time acquiring a decent tan.
If only.
My stride is slow. I’m taking my time. This will be the only outdoor time I get today. The breeze behind me is blocked. I keep walking, feeling someone walking behind me. I slow down hoping that whoever is behind me will walk past me. I don’t want to feel rushed. With my hands in my pockets, the coffee shop comes into view. It’s next to Seaside Jeweler’s and Nan’s Book Shop. I sigh, taking in the smell of fresh pastries and coffee grounds.
“Hi,” I say to the barista. “I’m supposed to pick up an order.”
“Banley building?” she replies, raising an eyebrow. She peers over the counter looking confused. “Just you?”
“Yeah.”
“Oh my,” she chuckles. “You might be making two trips here, dear.” She places a to-go tray on the counter. I can handle that.
She reaches behind the counter and places a second tray next to the first. Okay, I’ll just walk really slow.
Then she reaches again for a third. Crap. I only have two arms.
“Oh,” I respond. It would have been nice if someone told me. “I guess I will be making two trips.”
“No worries,” the barista answers. “Your coffees will be here waiting.”
I grab the first two trays and carefully maneuver through the front door. This time I speed walk back to the office. There’s no time to stare at the swirling waves and soaring seagulls. I quickly push open the office doors and leave the coffee order at reception. I turn around and see a flash of someone in the glass. My eyes go wide, and flurries of memories race back into my mind.
It’s him.
The guy with no name. The one whose charm and drink pouring got me to spill my guts about Dane. I had a moment of madness and ended up going out for a wild night with Zanna. I can’t remember much of that night. But I can still see his face, and I recognize the piercings across his eyebrow. Kind of hard to miss. My heart starts pounding. I need to know his name.
I run outside and search in every direction. All I see are sidewalks full of picture-happy tourists and guys in swimming trunks. I stamp my foot on the ground. Maybe I’m just seeing things. I’m going crazy. I slump my shoulders as I walk back to the coffee shop. The wind rushes across my face, and my nose is filled with the familiar scent of seawater.
Maybe I’ll just quit. They can pick up their own stupid coffees. Then I can spend all day on the beach and come home to a quiet night in front of the T.V. because Aunt Scar thinks I’ve worked hard all day. Then I could wake up the next day and do it all over again.
Perfect.
Until Professor Welch calls the apartment wondering why I’ve been MIA for the past week.
I don’t have the guts to do it. Only dream about doing it. I lack the spontaneity. That’s what everyone always says. Scarlett. Zanna. Even Dane. It’s hard for me to take a chance on a whim. The reason why I’m still a virgin I guess, and with Dane missing it might stay that way. Good thing Dane only knows about that.
I feel the breeze behind me being blocked again. I turn around. No one is there. But that feeling - the one you get when someone hovers over your shoulder - it won’t go away. My heart beats faster than my steps. Just get the coffees and go back to work.
I dash inside the coffee shop and grab the last tray. It is kind of embarrassing having to cart coffees back and forth between buildings in an ugly outfit. I want this day to be over. I want this internship to be over.
Dane, please come back.
DANE
Chapter Thirteen
“. . . backstabbing for a living.”
Being a Haskell means being a dirtbag. I try to be a good person. I try to fly under the radar, but it never works. I always end up making things worse, being accused of cheating, or being called a downright bastard. It’s in my genes. My dad’s a jerk and so am I. Why try preventing the inevitable? I’m tired of trying.
I’m done.
My conscience hates me. The more I ignore him, the more his voice in my head gets drowned out by other things. Other urges. Mikki is going to hate me when I finally tell her about Lucy. I’m sure the moment I see her again all the reasonable thoughts will be brushed aside, and I won't tell her again.
“If I give this back to you, will you contact that girl again?”
“No,” I lie.
“Good. Otherwise, I’ll have to tell your father.” Dad’s right-hand man, and massive bodyguard, has been sitting outside my door all day. Dad calls him Rig. That’s all I know about him other than he’s British and supposedly rides with the Hell’s Angels. He barged into my room as I was sending Mikki a text. I only got one word to her. Bristlecone. I hope she figures it out.
I hit my head against the wall. I can’t stand it here. I can see the sunshine through the blinds. I hear the birds and the sound of a nearby stream, but I’m hidden from it all. Rig keeps me from going outside. So I sit in my room watching T.V. and trying not think about how messed up my life is.
Rig hands me my cell phone. I have about a hundred missed calls and text messages. He stands in front of me folding his arms.
“What? I said I promise okay.” I roll my eyes.
“And I said you could check your messages.” His deep voice booms through the room. “That’s it.”
“What, so you’re going to sit here and read over my shoulder? Come on, man.”
“If you like I can always knick your cell again,” he replies. A subtle smirk crosses his weathered face.
“How much longer do I have to do this?”
“Until your father contacts me,” Rig responds. “That’s the deal.” And that’s the only thing I know about the deal I made with my father. I would have never left Mikki if I knew this was going to happen.
“I’m in another city,” I sigh. “Another state. It won’t hurt to step outside.”
“Oh, it will hurt if you do, mate. I can promise you that it will.”
“Fine,” I gulp. I scroll through the desperate pleas from Mikki and hand my phone back just to get him the hell out of my room. He pockets it and stomps down the hall.
Whatever.
I’m going to leave this prison no matter what he says. I’ll find my window of opportunity if I wait patiently. Then maybe I can sneak a call to Mikki and let her know I’m still alive. I stand up, looking out the window at the sea of green on the back lawn. I remember playing back there when I was a kid. We’d come here during ski season, and if I wasn’t on the mountain, I was near that grove of trees building snow forts. Of course, everything was covered in snow back then. I’ve never been here in summer.
Regardless, I will forever hate
this place when I get home.
I have got to find a way out. Dad ruins everything. I don’t know what he’s up to, but I don’t want any part of it. I’m afraid that I won’t have much of choice, me being his only son.
Paige has no problem backstabbing for a living. Dad should bring her into the family business. Not me.
Rig will sleep sometime. That’ll be my chance. He’s been pacing for the last two hours. I know he’s tired. I sit on my bed, thinking through a plan for when Rig finally crashes on the couch.
I rest my head back on my pillow. Dad might have me locked away up here, but he can’t control everything. If there’s one useful thing, Dad taught me it’s never let others stand in your way.
MIKKI
Chapter Fourteen
“. . . hypocrite.”
“I’m being followed.”
“No, you’re not,” Zanna laughs. She struts through the doorway and helps herself to whatever is in the fridge. I rub my forehead. Aunt Scarlett is working late, and I’ve lost myself in trashy reality T.V. “I tried calling you like a million times, girl.”
“Oh.” I glance at the beige couch cushions. My phone is missing. I feel through the creases.
“So,” Zanna continues. “First day of your summer internship. How was it?”
“Lame. I need some Ben & Jerry’s.”
“Any office hotties?” She winks. If you would call my tour guide, Paul, hot. I’m pretty sure a spritz of cologne in the morning is not an important part of his hygiene routine.
“No but . . .” I hesitate to blurt out the rest because Zanna is going to call me crazy for bringing it up again.
“Not this again.” She rolls her eyes and takes a sip of soda, slurping the foam first. “No one is following you, and even if that guy from the party was by your office this morning . . .” She waves a hand in the air. “I’m not saying he was . . . but if he was, he was probably trying to get a better look.”
“Come again?” I wrinkle my nose.
“He probably recognized you from the other night but wasn’t sure. We were all pretty tipsy.”
“Sure,” I reluctantly agree. I search again for my cell phone. “Shoot.”
“What?”
“I left my phone at my desk.” I hit my forehead with the palm of my hand. “Idiot.”
“No biggie,” Zanna responds. “I’ll drive you. And we can stop at that ice cream place on the way home.” Ice cream does sound good after the day I had. I grab a notepad from the kitchen drawer by the sink and write Scarlett a note in case she comes home to an empty apartment.
I grab a jacket and rub at the edges of my cuticles. Maybe I have a message waiting for me . . . from Dane.
Don’t be stupid, Mikki.
I haven’t heard any updates on the kidnapping from anyone. There seems to be an unwritten rule at the office. If you talk about a Haskell in the Banley building you’re basically asking to get fired.
* * *
The office lobby looks dead with all the lights off. Zanna frowns as we pull up alongside the front entrance to the Banley building. I sigh before opening the car door. Zanna shakes her head and turns off the car.
“I’m going with you,” she whispers.
“You don’t hear me arguing,” I reply. We walk quietly to the doors. The sky is dark, and only the street lamps on Main Street illuminate the town. The night is quiet, even the pub down the street isn’t very busy. I pull at the handles on the glass doors. They’re locked. I should’ve known.
“Ugh.” I shrug my shoulders.
“Relax,” Zanna chuckles. “I’ll just pick the lock.”
“No,” I scold. “You can’t break into the place where I work, idiot. I’ll get fired for sure.” I nudge her on the shoulder because I know, despite her playful tone, she’s dead serious. Breaking and entering. That’ll go over well when I’m job searching in a couple of years.
Zanna tilts her head and looks at me like I’m the whiny kid she’s stuck babysitting.
“I’m only trying to help, Miss Drama.”
“By breaking the law? I’m one hundred percent sure there are cameras in there.”
“Okay,” she responds in a high-pitched voice. She scans the building and starts walking around the back. A black alley is around the corner. I’m not sure what it looks like during the day, but there’s a tiny spot of light near the end.
“Where are you going?” I whisper. “Stop.”
“Shhh.” Zanna keeps walking like it’s no big deal.
“You can’t go down there.”
“Watch me,” she scoffs. Zanna stays close to the brick wall and takes one step at a time towards the light. I have no choice but to follow her. I’m not going to be left alone in the dark. My heart starts racing. The closer we get the more I realize the light is coming from an open door. Zanna is right. That’s our way in. It is probably cleaning people.
She takes another step. I hold the edge of her jacket. She takes another soft step and then stops suddenly. The light is blocked by two figures. She crouches down, and I follow suit. A dumpster blocks most of us. Voices ring through the night.
“I told you this wasn’t a good idea,” I whisper.
“Shhh.” She leans forward a little trying to listen. The voices mumble at first but the longer we stay still, the clearer the voices become. A man and a woman.
“I can’t keep doing this, Matt.” The woman sounds stressed. My heart keeps racing. I can hear it in my ears. The voice is familiar.
Scarlett.
I squeeze Zanna’s arm. She nods, listening intently.
“But Scar,” Matt replies in a low voice. “I need you.”
I don’t have a full view of them, but I’m pretty sure he’s touching her. I am going to be sick.
I tug at Zanna’s arm. I’ve seen enough. Matt pulls Aunt Scarlett back inside, and this time Zanna follows my lead back to the car. I clutch my sides, trying to comprehend what I just saw. It feels like an eternity before Zanna unlocks the door. I sit and catch my breath.
“She lied,” I mutter. “She said she was at work . . . but she lied.”
“Mmm,” Zanna smiles, starting the car. “What a clever little-”
“This isn’t funny.” I duck down and instinctively cover my face. I remember all the times Aunt Scarlett said the Haskells were a family of scumbags. Hypocrite. But that isn’t the worst of it. My Aunt is sleeping with Matt Haskell. Dane’s dad.
Chapter Fifteen
“. . . the two of them are having sex.”
I want to stay up and wait for Aunt Scarlett. I want to tell her exactly what I’m thinking.
I don’t.
Zanna forces chocolate ice cream down my throat instead. I can’t face my aunt. She’s been lying this whole time.
“Say something.” Zanna patiently waits for me to speak. I shake my head. What else can I say except I freaking hate being a Copelun. Nothing goes right for me.
“I’m never speaking to her again,” I mumble.
“Sure.”
“I’m serious.”
“So she’s getting it on with the wealthiest man in Seaside. Can you blame her?”
Eww. A comment that suggests the two of them are having sex. My expression turns sour.
“Quit saying that,” I answer. “You’ll make me barf all over the place.”
“Drama queen,” she laughs. She licks another spoonful of her cookies and cream. Zanna still stopped for ice cream on the way home despite my sudden loss of appetite. She insisted that the chocolate would make me feel better. So far it’s only made things worse. Every time I stare at my cup, it reminds me of when Scarlett and I would eat ice cream sundaes and watch the Lifetime Movie Network on the weekends. We stopped our tradition when I graduated high school. Not too long ago. Is that when she started-
Ugh.
“Stop doing that,” Zanna whines. Her eyes dart to the expression on my face. “If you get sick, I’ll get sick.”
“You’re the one who made me ea
t that ice cream,” I remind her.
“You wanted it, and we both know it.” She looks down at the rest of her cup. She takes a deep breath and tosses it in the trash. “Fine. The ice cream didn’t do a darn thing.”
“Zanna,” I say quietly. I sit carefully on the sofa to prevent my vision from spinning again. All I can think about is the mess I’m in. Trying to think one, two, or even five years ahead doesn’t work. I feel like I’ll be stuck in this moment forever.
Reminded that Dane isn’t here.
“What am I going to do?” My voice is so quiet that Zanna rushes to sit next to me, leaning in to hear me better. “What would you do?”
“Well . . .” She grins. I can tell she’s holding back the sarcasm. “I guess I would . . .” Her face is completely straight. She glances up at the ceiling. “Uh . . .” She sighs.
“Exactly,” I mutter.
“I think we both know it’ll always be on your mind from now on.”
I nod in agreement.
“Maybe you should just tell her,” Zanna goes on. “Tell her what you saw and see what she says.”
I know what she’ll say. She’ll deny the whole thing. I would have to confront her with pictures or something to make her talk. I shake my head.
“I can’t,” I say.
“Maybe it’s only a fling?”
“Sick.” I cover my mouth with my hand.
“And a it’s just a phase and one day it’ll be over type of thing.”
But that doesn’t address the main issue here. The one I can’t say out loud. He’s Dane’s dad. Dane’s married dad. What on earth is Scar thinking? She’s going to end up getting us both run out of town if Mrs. Haskell finds out.
My heart jumps at the sound of a car door slamming. I hear footsteps. Zanna and I both stare at the front door with blank expressions. The doorknob slowly turns, and my Aunt Scarlett stumbles inside with an arm full of grocery bags.
