The Wild Zone

by Joy Fielding

  “Done,” Jeff whooped, lowering his glass to the bar in triumph.

  “Christ, that’s awful stuff,” said Tom with a grimace half a second later. “How do people drink this shit?”

  “What’d you think, little brother?” Jeff asked as Will swallowed the last of his drink.

  “Not half-bad,” Will said. He liked it when Jeff referred to him as his little brother, even though, strictly speaking, they were only half brothers. Same father, different mothers.

  “Not half-good either,” Jeff was saying now, with a wink at no one in particular.

  “She seems to be enjoying it.” Tom nodded toward the brunette in the corner.

  “Makes you wonder what else she enjoys,” Jeff said.

  Will found himself staring at the woman’s sad eyes. He knew they were sad, even from this distance and in this light, because of the way she was leaning her head against the wall and looking off into space, her gaze aimless and unfocused. He realized that she was prettier than he’d first suspected, albeit in a conventional sort of way. Not strikingly beautiful like Kristin, with her emerald green eyes, a model’s high cheekbones, and voluptuous figure. No, this woman’s looks tilted more toward the ordinary. Pretty, for sure, but lacking sharpness. Her eyes were her only truly distinguishing feature. They were big and dark, probably a deep-water blue. She looks as if she has profound thoughts, Will was thinking as he watched a man approach her, experiencing an unexpected wave of relief when he saw her shake her head and turn him away. “What do you think her story is?” he heard himself ask out loud.

  “Maybe she’s the jilted lover of a British prince,” posited Jeff, downing what was left of his beer. “Or maybe she’s a Russian spy.”

  Tom laughed. “Or maybe she’s just a bored housewife looking for a little action on the side. Why? You interested?”

  Was he? Will wondered. It had been a long time since he’d had any kind of girlfriend. Since Amy, he thought, shuddering at the memory of the way that had turned out. “Just curious,” he heard himself say.

  “Hey, Krissie,” Jeff called out, leaning his elbows on the bar and beckoning Kristin toward him. “What can you tell me about the pomegranate lady?” He pointed with his square jaw toward the table in the corner.

  “Not much. First time I saw her was a few days ago. She comes in, sits in the corner, orders pomegranate martinis, tips very well.”

  “Is she always alone?”

  “Never noticed anyone with her. Why?”

  Jeff shrugged playfully. “I was thinking maybe the three of us could get better acquainted. What do you say?”

  Will found himself holding his breath.

  “Sorry,” he heard Kristin answer, and only then was he able to release the tight ball of air trapped in his lungs. “She’s not really my type. But, hey, you go for it.”

  Jeff smiled, exposing the two glistening rows of perfect teeth that not even the dust of Afghanistan had been able to dull. “Is it any wonder I love this girl?” he asked his companions, both of whom nodded in wonderment, Tom wishing Lainey could be more like Kristin in that regard—hell, in every regard, if he was being honest—and Will pondering, not for the first time since his arrival ten days earlier, what was really going on in Kristin’s head.

  Not to mention his own.

  Maybe Kristin was simply wise beyond her years, accepting Jeff for who he was, without trying to change him or pretend things were otherwise. Clearly, they had an arrangement they were comfortable with, even if he wasn’t.

  “I have an idea,” Jeff was saying. “Let’s have a bet.”

  “On what?” Tom asked.

  “On who can be the first to get into Miss Pomegranate’s panties.”

  “What?” Tom’s guffaw shook the room.

  “What are you talking about?” asked Will impatiently.

  “A hundred bucks,” Jeff said, laying two fifties on the countertop.

  “What are you talking about?” Will asked again.

  “It’s simple. There’s an attractive young woman sitting all by herself in the corner, just waiting for Prince Charming to hit on her.”

  “I think that might be a contradiction in terms,” Kristin said.

  “Maybe all she wants is to be left alone,” Will offered.

  “What woman comes to a place like the Wild Zone by herself hoping to be left alone?”

  Will had to admit Jeff’s question made sense.

  “So, we go over there, we chat her up, we see which one of us she lets take her home. A hundred bucks says it’s me.”

  “You’re on.” Tom fished inside his pocket, eventually coming up with two twenties and a pile of ones. “I’m good for the rest,” he said sheepishly.

  “Speaking of home,” Kristin interrupted, looking directly at Tom, “shouldn’t you be heading back there? You don’t want a repeat of last time, do you?”

  In truth, Kristin was the one who didn’t want a repeat of last time. Lainey was as formidable a force as her husband when she was angry, and she wasn’t too proud to wake up half the city when it came to ferreting out her errant husband’s whereabouts.

  “Lainey’s got nothing to worry about tonight,” Jeff said confidently. “Miss Pomegranate’s not going to be interested in his bony ass.” He turned toward Will. “You in?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Oh, come on. Don’t be a spoilsport. What’s the matter? Afraid you’ll lose?”

  Will glanced back at the woman, who was still staring off into space, although he noticed she’d finished her drink. Why hadn’t he just told his brother he was interested? Was he interested? And was Jeff right? Was he afraid of losing? “Do you accept credit cards?”

  Jeff laughed and slapped him on the shoulder. “Spoken like a true Rydell. Daddy would be very proud.”

  “How are we going to do this exactly?” Tom asked, bristling at all this newfound brotherly camaraderie. During the almost two decades he and Jeff had been friends, Will had been nothing but a thorn in his brother’s side. He wasn’t even a real brother, for shit’s sake, just a half brother who was as unwanted as he was unloved. Jeff had had nothing to do with him, hadn’t spoken to or about him in years. And then, ten days ago, Will showed up on his doorstep out of the blue, and all of a sudden it’s “little brother” this and “little brother” that, and it was enough to make you puke. Tom gave Will his broadest smile, wishing “little brother” would pack his bags and go back to Princeton. “I mean, we don’t want it to look like we’re ambushing her.”

  “Who said anything about an ambush? We just go over there, thank her for introducing us to the pleasures of vodka-laced antioxidants, and offer to buy her another.”

  “I have a better idea,” offered Kristin. “Why don’t I go over, chat her up for a few minutes, and try to feel her out, see if she’s interested.”

  “Find out her name anyway,” Will said, trying to think of a way to extricate himself from the situation without embarrassing himself or alienating his brother.

  “How much do you want to bet her name starts with a J?” Tom asked.

  “Five dollars says it doesn’t,” Jeff said.

  “More names start with J than any other letter.”

  “There are still twenty-five more letters in the alphabet,” Will said. “I’m with Jeff on this one.”

  “Of course you are,” Tom said curtly.

  “Okay, guys, I’m on my way,” Kristin announced, returning to their side of the bar. “Anything you want me to say to the lady on your behalf?”

  “Maybe we shouldn’t bother her,” Will said. “She looks like she has a lot on her mind.”

  “Tell her I’ll give her something to think about,” Jeff said, giving Kristin’s backside a playful tap to send her on her way. All three men followed her exaggerated wiggle with their eyes as she sashayed between tables toward the far corner of the room.

  Will watched Kristin retrieve the empty glass from the woman’s table, the two women falling into conversation as
easily and casually as if they were lifelong friends. He watched Miss Pomegranate suddenly swivel in their direction, her head tilting provocatively to one side, a slow smile spreading across her face as Kristin spoke. “You see those three guys at the end of the bar?” he imagined Kristin telling her. “The good-looking one in black, the skinny, angry-looking one beside him, the sensitive-looking one in the blue button-down shirt? Pick one. Any one. He’s yours for the asking.”

  “She’s coming back,” Jeff said as, moments later, Kristin left the woman’s side and began her slow walk back to the bar, the three men swaying forward in unison to greet her.

  “Her name’s Suzy,” she announced without stopping.

  “That’s another five you owe me,” Jeff told Tom.

  “That’s it?” Tom asked Kristin. “You were over there all that time, and that’s all you got?”

  “She moved here from Fort Myers a couple of months ago.” Kristin returned to her side of the bar. “Oh, yeah. I almost forgot,” she said with a big smile in Will’s direction. “She picked you.”

  TWO

  “WHAT?” WILL WAS SURE he’d misunderstood. Kristin wasn’t really looking at him. Her smile was clearly meant for Jeff. It was simply a case of wishful thinking on his part.

  “You’re kidding me, right?” Jeff said, equally incredulous.

  “Well, well,” Tom snickered. “Looks like ‘little brother’ is the night’s big winner.”

  “You’re sure she picked Will?” Jeff said, as if needing verbal confirmation.

  Kristin shrugged. “Apparently she’s always had a soft spot for men in button-down shirts.”

  Tom laughed, enjoying the evening’s unexpected turn of events. Not that he liked losing any more than Jeff did. Especially to a smug little twerp like Will. “The Chosen One,” Jeff used to call him. Well, he’d been chosen all right.

  “What are you laughing about?” Jeff snapped. “You just lost a hundred bucks, you moron.”

  “So did you. Besides, it’s not your wallet that’s wounded. It’s your ego.” Tom laughed again. “Don’t worry. It happens to the best of us.” It would do Jeff good to get a taste of the rejection he’d been dealing with for most of his life, Tom was thinking. A little humility never hurt anyone.

  Jeff said nothing, letting his scowl speak for him.

  “Anyway,” Tom continued, finishing off his beer, “we haven’t lost a cent until he seals the deal.”

  Jeff’s shoulders instantly relaxed, shaking off his rejection as if it were an unwanted coat. His smile returned. “That’s right, little brother,” he said, patting Will’s shoulder with perhaps a touch too much vigor. “The night is young. A lot remains to be done. Your test is just beginning.”

  Will felt his mouth go dry and his palms grow moist. He’d always hated tests. And this time it wasn’t some stuffy old professor judging his worth. It was his beloved older brother. A brother he’d spent years trying—and failing—to impress. “What am I supposed to do?” he whispered, not sure whether it would be better to pass this particular test or to fail.

  “Can’t help you there, little brother. You’re on your own.”

  “You could fuck her on the table right in front of us,” Tom offered with a smirk.

  “Why don’t you just take her this,” Kristin said, a freshly mixed pomegranate martini materializing in her hand.

  Will took the drink from her fingers, sheer willpower steadying his hand. It was bad enough that Jeff and Tom would be watching his every move. He wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of seeing his hands tremble. He took a deep breath, forced a smile onto his face, then swiveled around on his heels, pushing one foot in front of the other, like a toddler learning to walk.

  “Be gentle,” Tom called after him.

  What’s the matter with you? Will was thinking, feeling every eye in the place trailing after him as he crossed the room. It wasn’t as if he’d never done this before. He’d dated lots of girls, was hardly a virgin, although truthfully, there hadn’t been that many girls, he was forced to admit. And none at all since Amy. Shit, why was he thinking of her now? He pushed her out of his head, his right hand shooting forward involuntarily, pink fluid spilling out over the top of the glass and trickling down his fingers.

  Suzy watched his approach from her seat at the table, her eyes sparkling playfully as he drew nearer. Even now Will was convinced there’d been a mistake. It was Jeff she’d meant for Kristin to send over. “What are you doing here?” he could almost hear her say.

  “Smile, sucker,” she said instead. “Pull up a chair.”

  Will hesitated, although only for an instant, before doing as he’d been told—pulling up the nearest chair and grinning like an idiot as he sank into it. He deposited her drink on the table, pushed it toward her. “For you.”

  “Thank you. You’re not having anything?”

  Will realized he’d left his beer at the bar. No way he was going back there to get it. “I’m Will Rydell,” he said. Not exactly clever, he knew. No doubt Jeff would have come up with something more provocative. Hell, even Tom would have managed something snappier than his name.

  “Suzy Bigelow.” She leaned forward, as if she had something important to impart, and so he did the same. “Shall we cut right to the chase?”

  “Okay,” Will said, but inside he was thinking, What chase? What is she talking about? He was beginning to feel as if he’d walked into a movie ten minutes after it started, and already he was missing a vital piece of information.

  “What’s the wager?” she asked.

  “What?”

  “I understand you guys have some kind of bet going on,” she said, luminous blue eyes widening, waiting for him to confirm what she obviously already knew.

  “What exactly did Kristin tell you?”

  “The waitress? Not much.”

  “Actually, she’s the bartender.” Will bit down on his tongue. What was the matter with him? Why bother to correct her? He was going to blow this if he wasn’t careful. He knew it. “What did she say?”

  “That the three of you had some kind of bet going, and that I could make your night if I picked you.”

  Will felt a sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach. What was she saying—that Kristin had set this whole thing up? That he hadn’t actually won anything?

  “How much do you collect if we walk out of here together?”

  “Two hundred bucks,” Will admitted sheepishly.

  She looked impressed. “Wow. Not half-bad.”

  “I’m sorry. We weren’t trying to insult you.”

  “Who said I was insulted? That’s a lot of money.”

  “I can leave if you’d like.”

  “I wouldn’t have asked you to come over if I wanted you to leave.”

  Now Will was more confused than ever. What is it with women? he wondered. Are they genetically incapable of carrying on a straightforward conversation?

  “I just want to set the record straight right off the top,” she continued. “I’m not going to sleep with you, if that’s what you were thinking, so you can get that particular thought right out of your head.”

  “Consider it gone,” he said, an unexpected jolt of disappointment shooting through his body.

  “However, I’m more than happy to sit here and have a few drinks with you. Then we walk out of here together, maybe go for a stroll along the beach, and go our separate ways. How’s that sound to you?”

  “Sounds fair enough,” Will said. What he thought was, Sounds like crap. But what the hell, a few drinks were better than nothing. Maybe she’d change her mind.

  “I’m not going to change my mind,” she said, as if reading his. “But feel free to tell your buddies anything you like.”

  “I’m not one to kiss and tell. Or not kiss and tell,” he added, and she laughed, for which he felt inordinately grateful.

  “You are kind of cute,” she said. “Maybe I will sleep with you. Just kidding,” she added quickly. “So, what’s the story
? You don’t drink?”

  “No, I do. Of course I do. A Miller draft,” he said to the passing waitress. He motioned toward Suzy’s martini. “I understand pomegranates are supposed to be good for you.”

  “Especially when you combine them with vodka,” Suzy said, laughing as she raised the glass to her lips.

  Will decided he liked the sound of her laugh—it was surprisingly full and throaty.

  “I think good health is a combination of good luck and good genes, more than anything else,” she said.

  “Biology is destiny,” Will concurred.

  “What?”

  “I agree,” Will amended quickly.

  Suzy smiled. “So, what do you do?”

  “Nothing.”

  Her smile widened, a pair of deep dimples bracketing her small mouth. Blue eyes crinkled with amusement. “Nothing?”

  “Well, no, not nothing exactly.”

  “Not nothing exactly or exactly nothing?” she teased.

  “I’m sounding like a complete jerk, aren’t I?” Will asked, voicing his thoughts out loud. What the hell—she’d already told him she wasn’t going to sleep with him. What did he have to lose?

  “Why don’t you take a few deep breaths,” she told him. “You’ve already won your bet. You know nothing’s going to happen between us, so you don’t have to work so hard to impress me. You can just relax and have a good time.”

  Again, Will did as he was told, taking a few deep breaths and leaning back in his chair. Relaxing was another matter entirely. When was the last time he’d been able to relax, as far as women were concerned? In fact, it seemed to him that the words “relax” and “women” didn’t belong in the same sentence together.

  “So, I’ll ask the question again. What do you do—when you’re not doing nothing, that is?”

  He could make up anything, Will realized. Tell her he was an airline pilot or a financial adviser, something either so straightforward he wouldn’t have to explain it, or something so complicated she wouldn’t want him to. “I’m a student,” he said, opting for the truth. I’m Will Rydell. I’m a student. No doubt about it—he was on a roll.