Night Swimming

by Laura Moore

  Startled, Evelyn looked up at him with a bewildered expression. “Excuse me?”

  “What in hell is Lily Banyon doing on this committee?”

  His secretary responded with a mutinous thrust of her chin. “If you’re looking for a verbal punching bag, Sean, go pick on someone your own size.”

  “What?”

  “You heard me.” Evelyn glared at him with righteous indignation, as though she’d just discovered he’d robbed the senior pension fund.

  Jaw clamped tight, he counted silently to ten, then enunciated carefully, “Evelyn, could you please tell me what happened to George Hunt?”

  “How should I know?” she snapped. “Why the fuss, anyway? Dr. Banyon’s from the same institute—Dave was all excited when he got the news. He’s right over there,” Evelyn informed Sean. “Go yell at him if this Dr. Banyon is such a problem.”

  Sean’s gaze found his friend trapped in a corner with one of Coral Beach’s more “vocal” citizens. There’d be no escape for Dave until the meeting came to order, and Sean was hardly in the mood to be patient with the likes of Mrs. Cannady.

  Evelyn gave a knowing smile when Sean remained at her side. “In case you’re interested, Dave thinks we got a great deal. By all accounts, Dr. Banyon is a real star.”

  Sean shut his eyes briefly and shook his head in denial, in despair. “Evelyn, believe me, you don’t want Lily Banyon anywhere near this committee.”

  Then she was there, as if by saying her name aloud he’d conjured her. The air changed, an arctic crackle in Florida’s sultry heat. The small hairs on the back of his neck prickled in awareness, his skin suddenly stretched tight.

  Evelyn, too, must have sensed the shift in atmosphere. She craned her head to peer around him. He watched her expression transform from annoyed to surprised to awed.

  “Oh, my,” she breathed.

  “She’s here?” he asked unnecessarily, refusing to look. Resisting temptation.

  “I’m assuming it must be her; I pretty much know everyone else in the room.” There was a short silence as she inspected the newcomer thoroughly. “My heavens, I didn’t realize scientists came like this. She’s simply . . . magnificent.”

  “There’s not one thing that’s simple about Lily Banyon.”

  Evelyn’s eyes were still focused on the other end of the room. “ Hmm, I think I see what you mean.” A smile played over her lips. “How utterly refreshing and fascinating—you’ll have your work cut out for you. Come, Mayor McDermott, duty calls.”

  “I don’t need to meet her. I already know her. Too well.”

  Evelyn made a tsking sound. “My, my, don’t we sound like we’ve missed our afternoon nap?” she murmured as she brushed by him, assuming the role of Coral Beach’s welcome wagon, fully equipped with bells, whistles, and highlighters.

  His secretary had abandoned him for the enemy. How much worse could things get? A clause should be inserted into their contracts prohibiting secretaries from treating their bosses as though they were three-year-olds. Had there been dirt instead of mocha-colored industrial carpeting underfoot, he’d have kicked it. It wasn’t anyone’s business but his if he refused to rush over and blurt, Hey, Lily, long time no see! So, tell me, what’ve you been up to since Rome, when you slammed the door in my face so hard you almost broke my nose for the second time?

  He was the mayor. He could do as he liked. And what he most wanted, right after making Lily Banyon disappear from his life as suddenly as she’d reappeared, was an armed guard. Then maybe he could confront her and walk away in one piece.

  Reluctantly, Sean turned and looked.

  Three seconds was all he permitted himself. Lily Banyon wasn’t going to catch him staring like some hormone-crazed adolescent. Three seconds was more than enough, though. Lily’s image burned, a brilliant flame behind his retinas.

  She looked good. No, make that great, incredible . . . yes, magnificent. She’d chopped off her hair, about a foot and a half of it. Her wheat-blond locks fell in a casual, tousled style, framing her face, accentuating those startling, ice-crystal blue eyes.

  She looked even better than he remembered, a memory hot enough to make him lie awake at night, aching.

  Evelyn Roemer’s pink head was tilted back in animated conversation with Lily. From the angle of his secretary’s chin, Sean realized Lily must be wearing high heels, so she’d stand nearly as tall as him. That fact alone put fifty points on her side of the scoreboard. She must have known beforehand he’d be at the meeting.

  But Sean wasn’t going to let her win.

  Not this time. She’d won the last round, back in Rome, when the wooden door to her room in the slightly cheesy pensione nearly flattened him.

  It certainly hadn’t been Sean’s idea to visit her. Her mother, Kaye, had called long distance, pleading that he look Lily up, take her out to dinner. Lily was traveling with her college roommate, and Kaye was certain she’d be out of her depth in Italy. To add to Kaye’s worries, neither girl spoke a word of Italian—whereas Sean had spent the entire year in Rome, studying political science at the university, which made him practically a native. Surely he could take the daughter of his mother’s best friend out for a bowl of pasta, some Chianti? Kaye would sleep so much better knowing Lily was with Sean, and not some louche foreigner—Italian men had such ideas! And she was sure Lily would be thrilled to see a friendly, familiar face.

  Surprised at Kaye’s belated display of maternal instincts, Sean relented, promising he’d get in touch with Lily. Besides, he knew his own mother would never forgive him if he refused such a simple request. As he made his way down the narrow streets to the pensione opposite the Pantheon, where Lily and her roommate were staying, Sean steadfastly refused to acknowledge any other reason for agreeing to take Lily out. It had been three years since they’d left for college; not once had she come home to visit. But Sean still couldn’t look at a blonde without comparing her to Lily.

  He’d mounted the four flights of narrow, winding stairs, the sound of his steps muffled by red, threadbare carpet. At number seventeen, he’d stopped and stood, giving his racing heart a chance to quiet before he knocked.

  Calm down, he’d instructed himself. It’s only Lily.

  His knock echoed loudly in the empty hall. Through the door he heard the sound of approaching footsteps. Then it opened and there she was. She stood with her mouth agape. Her eyes, like beacons of light in the obscurity of the drab hallway, blinked at him with astonishment. “What are you doing here?” The question ended on a squeak. As if annoyed with the sound, she shut her mouth with an audible snap.

  Was it possible Kaye hadn’t bothered to tell Lily he’d be coming?

  “I heard you were spending a few days in Rome.” Sean realized he was staring like a dolt, but couldn’t help himself. It rattled him, seeing Lily again. A barrage of emotions and impressions mixed and churned inside him: how good she looked, different somehow, more self-confident than in high school, how maybe this time they might get along for more than 3.5 seconds. He became aware of a happy buzz of anticipation zinging through him. He was already picturing the two of them at a really nice trattoria. They’d be sitting at an intimate corner table. A waiter would come and take their order and Sean would impress her with his flawless Italian, his casual sophistication, his sprezzatura. By the time the waiter had served them their dessert and espresso, she’d be smiling at him across the soft candlelight. He’d reach out and take her hand. . . .

  Then Lily spoke again and Sean’s neat fantasy evaporated like a puff of smoke.

  “But how did you know I was here?” she’d asked, with what he’d conceitedly assumed was genuine confusion— that is, until a guy their age appeared. Standing just behind Lily, he had stared back at Sean through the aperture of the open door with a knowing smirk upon his face.

  And suddenly Sean understood.

  Lily wasn’t frowning from confusion. She was annoyed. Annoyed because he’d barged in on her and Lover Boy.

  L
ily didn’t give a damn about him. At the realization, his jumbled thoughts at seeing her again, all those newborn hopes inside him, faded to black.

  His brain must have shorted after that. Suave, sophisticated guy that he was, Sean had blurted out, “Hey, this wasn’t my idea. I only came because Kaye begged me to—”

  Stupendously dumb. He knew better, had known since he was eight years old. If you wanted to push Lily Banyon into the red zone, all it took was a whispered, “Kaye.”

  The door to her hotel room had come at his face faster than a bullet train. He guessed he should be grateful she hadn’t been using a more lethal weapon, like the volleyball she’d smashed in his face during gym class back in eleventh grade. Even so, he’d been forced to jump back or have the number seventeen imprinted on his forehead.

  Their last skirmish, the one back in Rome, he’d definitely lost. He’d stood outside her room like a fool, banging on the door, Lover Boy’s laughter his only reply. Finally, the pensione’s night clerk had appeared, insisting he leave la bella americana in peace. He’d gone away, humiliated and oddly deflated.

  It was past time he evened the score, maybe got a few points up on her. He walked over to his place, the center of a U-shaped configuration of tables, and set his papers down, pretending to consult them. Instead, he inspected Lily covertly, hoping to detect a weakness, some tiny chink in her armor.

  Damn her for being more beautiful than ever, he thought. A single glance and he began wanting things he knew were impossible. Sean tore his gaze away, and became aware for the first time that Lily hadn’t come to the meeting alone. On her right was a young woman who bore an alarming resemblance to the teenagers he’d spent the afternoon with at Coral Beach High. Dozens upon dozens of cornrows covered her head, the thin braids ending in brilliantly colored beads. At the moment, she was nodding in reply to some remark of Evelyn’s, making her braids sway and jangle.

  The man next to the young woman was a different story altogether. He had that ultra-groomed look, as if he spent way too much time in front of a mirror. And it doesn’t look like he uses the hours to practice his smile, Sean thought, disliking the sneer on the guy’s face. Sean pushed aside his less-than-favorable impression of Lily’s two companions. What he thought of them hardly mattered, not when it was Lily’s own presence that bore all the signs of a catastrophe in the making.

  The time had come, Sean determined, to face the woman of his nightmares, of his dreams.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  The tension had been building inside her since that awful airborne moment when Lily read Sean’s name. Now that she was standing in the conference room, it was almost more than she could bear. Like live wires, her nerves sparked with dangerous intensity.

  She’d spotted Sean instantly, of course, despite the fact that his back was turned. His dark head topped most of the room’s occupants. When he remained on the other side of the room, deep in conversation with a little old lady, Lily let out a sigh of relief. His attention elsewhere, all she had to contend with was the sight of his broad shoulders, how well they filled his olive green jacket, with the short, sun-kissed curls of his brown hair just skimming the jacket’s collar. That alone was disconcerting enough. Quickly, Lily averted her eyes.

  About fifteen other people were gathered in the conference room. Since joining the research department at the Marine Center, Lily had participated in many such meetings and committees. She knew there’d be representatives from the planning board, the town council, the Department of Parks and Recreation, as well as anyone else keen on exercising his or her democratic right to hold forth in a public setting. The thing about these meetings, there was always someone with an agenda, sometimes an obvious one, other times so deeply hidden that trying to unearth it required the cunning of an archaeologist at an excavation site—you had to know where to dig. What Lily found disheartening was the monotony of the root causes that motivated so many people—money, power, or often a nasty cocktail of the two.

  Despite her general aversion to committees and panels, Lily still found one aspect of them entertaining. She loved playing the game of Guess Who. As with marine biology, it involved determining category and type of species. On dry land, the challenge translated into matching faces to titles—she’d picked out the parks and recreation rep in a mere five seconds: mid to late twenties, well-worn but pressed khakis, white polo shirt with an embroidered insignia over the left breast. Behind the gold wire rim glasses, his face had that open, all-American expression. He was one of the few people opting for mineral water rather than the catered coffee, which had just been wheeled in on a linen-covered tea wagon.

  Lily moved on to a more challenging level: the suits. One was particularly eye-catching. A shiny, bluish-gray double-breasted jacket with matching trousers, the look was completed by a pair of glossy tasseled loafers. The man inside the suit was as slick as the clothes he wore. His heavily pomaded hair was the inky black of shoe polish, his carefully trimmed goatee the same improbable shade. Lily put him somewhere in his fifties and watched, fascinated, as he worked the room. In constant motion, he would target a group, slap backs with hearty enthusiasm, and then veer off again. If she hadn’t known better, she’d have thought he was mayor.

  Lily’s species cataloging came to an abrupt end when, spritelike, the old lady who’d been talking with Sean materialized in front of her. Decked out in a blinding lime green pantsuit, she thrust a thin hand toward Lily. “Dr. Banyon, welcome. I’m Evelyn Roemer, Mayor McDermott’s secretary.”

  “Hello.” Lily shook the proffered hand, careful not to squeeze too hard. Ms. Roemer looked fragile enough to fly away in a strong breeze.

  Standing next to Lily, Karen exclaimed, “Wow! I love your hair color. Did you get that done around here?”

  Evelyn Roemer fingered a cluster of spring tight curls that were a delicate shade of . . . raspberry. “Why thank you, dearie,” she replied with a gratified smile. “No, I have this special formula I mix myself. That way I know it’ll come out just right.” Her bright gaze shifted back to Lily. “Did you have any trouble finding the condominium, Dr. Banyon?”

  “Oh, no. No trouble at all.”

  “We certainly do appreciate your willingness to take over Dr. Lesnesky’s work. We were left in something of a bind when he fell ill.”

  “The Marine Center’s primary goal is to further awareness and understanding of our oceans’ ecosystems,” Lily recited dutifully. She had a vision of her boss, Simone, applauding Lily’s diplomatic effort on the center’s behalf. . . . Boy, Simone is going to owe me big-time.

  Lily had just finished introducing Karen and John to Evelyn Roemer when Sean approached the group.

  “Ahh, Mayor McDermott,” Evelyn Roemer said cheerfully, when Lily fell abruptly silent. “I was just chatting with Dr. Banyon and her assistants. Karen, John, allow me to introduce you to Sean McDermott, Coral Beach’s mayor. Mayor McDermott, this is Karen Masur and John Granger. Karen’s an underwater photographer, and John will be assisting Dr. Banyon with her research.” Evelyn paused as Sean shook their hands. “Of course, you and Dr. Banyon need no introduction. I understand you are already acquainted.”

  As one, Lily and Sean ignored Evelyn’s remark.

  “Evelyn,” Sean said. “Let’s get the panel members seated and call the meeting to order. Now that Dr. Banyon and her assistants are here, I think we should begin without further delay.”

  His secretary nodded briskly. “Certainly, Mr. Mayor.” She turned to John Granger. “John, you look like a strapping young man. Would you mind moving a few chairs for me, perhaps the ones over in the corner? I’d like to put them on either side of Dr. Banyon’s place, so the panel can meet the three of you together. Come along, Karen, we’ll get some refreshments. I doubt you’ve had time to eat, what with all your traveling.”

  Sean watched Lily turn as if to follow them. Clearly she wished to avoid him. While Sean wasn’t terribly eager to chat about the good old days, Lily’s patent reluctance to speak to h
im had the predictably perverse effect of his being determined to do so.

  “So, your Lungness, I see you’ve finally decided to come up for air.” The nickname was a relic from their swim team days, and had popped out unintentionally. Still, it had the desired result: Lily stopped in her tracks.

  She turned and faced him. “I assume this is one of your attempts at wit. As usual, though, you’ve fallen way short of the mark. I have no idea what you’re referring to, nor do I particularly care. However, if you call me that again, I’ll walk right out that door.”

  “What? Your Lungness?” he repeated, all innocence, ignoring the fact that his behavior was childish, unprofessional, too.

  How could she stand there looking so coolly collected, as if seeing him again meant absolutely nothing to her? Because, you idiot, an inner voice mocked, that’s exactly what you are to Lily. Nothing.

  Lily’s nails gouged the palms of her hands. From the gleam in Sean’s hazel eyes, she knew he remembered how much she’d detested being called Her Lungness. Years ago, someone on their swim team had dreamed up the moniker because Lily was able to swim underwater for the entire length of the fifty-meter pool in one breath, then turn around for the return trip before surfacing. But Lily had always thought the name stuck, especially with the guys on the team, not on account of her incredible lung capacity, but because by the time she was fourteen, her bra size was already a 36C.

  The recollection of those awkward adolescent days had Lily’s shoulders rounding—as they had in the past. It was a futile attempt to make everything about her smaller, more conventional.

  The gleam in Sean’s eyes intensified, and Lily read it for what it was: satisfaction. She jerked her spine to regal stiffness. “Knock it off, McDermott,” she hissed.

  It was silly to have worried, Sean thought, relaxing. He could handle the return of Lily Banyon, no problem. He only had to keep pushing the right buttons.

  “Sorry. I was only trying to jar your memory a bit. After all, it’s been so long since you were home. I suppose you’ve been too busy saving the oceans all these years to come back and visit your family.”