Entangled Summer

by Barrow-Belisle, Michele

  I nodded as a silence fell between us. Now it was just plain awkward. She knew about the dreams. I wondered how, and yet did it matter? What was there left to say really. Should I just collect my things and thank her for her time as I’d done at least half a dozen time over the past month? Search for yet another job? What was one more medical bill to add to the pile. Grandad’s hospital stay had already racked up a small towers worth.

  “Miss Dultry, you seem on edge. Is something weighing on your mind?”

  Might as well be honest, if I’m not getting the job anyway. “Nothing at all really. I’m just not accustomed to having a psychological profile performed for a job I haven’t been given. When my friend Kenzie had suggested this, I had no idea this was what it would entail.”

  The woman pursed her thickly glossed lips. “You have indeed been offered a position. I apologize, I assumed you’d been informed.”

  This time I frowned. I’ve been hired? But I didn’t even have a second interview. Kenzie said the interview process was grueling. Took several sessions to complete.

  “Sooo, just to clarify, you’re saying I have the job?” I realize I sounded a little slow, but I wanted to be sure I’d heard correctly. Nothing said insane like showing up for a position on Monday morning that you don’t actually hold. Plus it meant relocating to the campus to live onsite for the entire summer. I needed to be sure.

  “Do you want the job Miss Dultry? I’m giving you the choice.”

  Was it really a choice? If it were a choice I’d already have the money I needed to find the best care for my Granddad. If I had a choice I wouldn’t be submitting myself to a Q&A about a part of my life only my closest friend knows about. If I had a choice I’d be teaching sculpting and not puppetry. No, this was no choice. It was my only option.

  “Yes, I want the job.” I said before she misread my hesitation.

  “Good.” The trace of a question lingered in her gaze. “Then yes, you have the job.”

  I exhaled the breath I didn’t realized I’d been holding and smiled. My spirits soared. Only three months until the answer to all of my financial problems.

  “An official letter has already been couriered to you. By this time tomorrow it will be waiting for you at home.”

  I pictured the stack of bills I’d left on the kitchen counter. Never occurred to me there might ever be good news mixed in amongst the final-notices and past-due collections.”

  Her voice shifted ever so slightly. “Of course, there is still the one condition.”

  Annnnd my spirits crashed back to earth and burst into a ball of flames. Slowly I raised my eyes to lock with hers. I nibbled my lowered lip then took the plunge. “What’s the condition?”

  “You agree to continue to meet with me as we have today, during your time here at the school.”

  I fell back against my seat, my stomach immediately reknotting itself. “What? But— why?”

  Miss Strange leaned forward and gave what should have passed for a smile, but fell short. “Because, Miss Dultry, you are a gifted individual. You may have talents and capabilities beyond which you’ve demonstrated, even to yourself—” she paused as her pseudo-smile faded, “and, because I can help you stop the nightmares about the man that haunts you at night.”

  Chapter Six

  My blood ran cold. How did she know about my dreams? I got that she knew of them… but the content…? The question was about to fall from my mouth, when she rose abruptly.

  "I believe the director has returned,” she said suddenly. “And I’m certain he’ll want to meet you before you leave. You will report to me during your employment with us Miss Dultry, however he is the owner of this academy, so it would be wise for you to keep that in mind."

  The only thing I could keep in mind was how she knew so much about my dream. No one outside of Kenzie and my grandfather knew about them. I must have sat in my stupor too long because Miss Strange made a face.

  “Follow me please Miss Dultry. He is in the atrium.”

  Kenzie was still in the waiting room when Miss Strange and I walked by. A million questions lit up her face as we passed her and walked out the front door. No time to answer them now, especially since I had none. Was this meeting just a formality, or part of the interview process? Miss Strange had already assured me I had the position, but considering the bizarreness of the entire morning, anything was possible.

  I walked as fast as I could behind her. Her heels were higher than mine, yet she managed to walk twice as fast. With my two left feet stumbling over the uneven path with every step I took, I barely managed to keep up. I followed her into a round glass building, a solarium or maybe a greenhouse. It virtually glowed with greenery, and although the sun was beating down full force now that it was past midday, the inside was relatively cool. There was a large indoor pond to the side, in the center a stone frog spouting water from its mouth. The worn floor boards creaked as we walked over them, they had to have been well over a hundred years old.

  She motioned for me to come forward, then handed my file to a man sitting at a desk. His back was turned as we entered, but as he heard the papers hit the wood, his leather office chair slowly swiveled in our direction.

  “Troy, I thought you should meet our newest recruit,” Miss Strange said.

  So this wasn’t another interview. One question answered. A dozen or so more to go. Gaging from the partial side view of him, there was no way this guy was a hundred. More like an over-achieving twenty-something year old… with a great profile.

  His chair completed its 180, and Troy stood up to face us.

  Electric shocks zapped through me and I froze as our eyes tangled. There staring back at me through chocolaty bedroom eyes, was the only guy I’d ever had a one night stand with. Almost.

  His eyes lingered on my face, as if he was memorizing every detail. Self-consciously, I swiped my tongue across my teeth in case there was leftover spinach from the veggie wraps stuck between them.

  This was the Troy Bellisaro? We met when I took his art theory class at night school. It was over a year ago, but he was unforgettable. Everything from his heart-stopping smile and velvety voice, to his chiseled abs and arms to curl up and die for. In class he’d insisted we call him TB. Not once do I remember him using his full name. He was all business casual, suit jacket over jeans, dress shirt, no tie. But here, he was dressed in a black t-shirt that showed off a hint of his tattooed bicep, olive cargo shorts and Birkenstock's. He walked that irresistible line between nice guy and bad boy. In a flash I was transported back in time, recalling every detail of our encounter. Taking his class. Staying after class. Leaving class to go to his place....

  His sinfully sexy dark-chocolate gaze held mine as he extended his hand. “Hi. Troy, Bellisaro.”

  Oh. My. God. He’s introducing himself... doesn’t he remember me? What the... “Uhm, hello.”

  “You’re, Nora?”

  Maybe he does remember me.

  “And you’re teaching the summer marionette class.”

  It was really him. Even his voice still resonated in my bones. My face flushed with heat, my mouth dried up and my tongue felt swollen.

  “It’s good to meet you,” he said.

  This was bad.

  Catastrophically bad.

  Iceberg-dead-ahead bad.

  I swallowed and stuck out my hand, because what else could I do. It wasn't like he'd said ‘Hey Nora, fancy seeing you here.’ He was either playing it cool or had completely forgotten me.

  “Nice to meet you.” I said, which was pretty hard to do around the thickness of my tongue and tightness of my throat. I stared, not blinking at his surreally gorgeous dark hair, and body that could make a girl choke on her own tongue. Which is what it felt like I was doing now. I kind of slipped into a trance. The angles of his face were highlighted by the dappled sunlight streaming through the many windows. I was officially lost in a sea of gorgeous dark eyes, tousled hair and kissable lips... that were still moving. Oh god, he was still talk
ing... to me. He was talking and I wasn’t listening. My heart slammed against my chest. And then a second time when his beautiful lips stopped moving.

  Crap. He’s waiting for me to answer. Say something idiot. Say anything. I froze.

  He frowned. “Is that your way of telling me it’s none of my business?”

  Wait, what? “No.” I sputtered. “Sorry, actually I uh, didn’t hear what you said. Sorry.”

  He stared at me for a moment. Likely trying to figure out if I was genuinely hearing impaired, or just an idiot. Of course if he went with the latter he’d have nailed it.

  Then he smiled. “Let’s start over. I’m Troy. I head the marionette program.”

  “Nora Dultry.” Even though we already met, like a year ago. I was the girl next to you in your bed that night. My face flushed with heat.

  Troy and Miss Strange exchanged a look.

  Did somebody crank the temperature in here? A bead of sweat rolled down my neck. He was already scorching me with his hot smile and steamy good looks. The amped up temperature was just overkill.

  “Guess we’ll be seeing a lot of each other this summer Nora.”

  He was so calm and professional, and that only made me more nervous. “Sure. I mean I assumed we would, since you’re into puppets. I mean, not that you’re into them, like in that way. I just mean, we’re both tied up with them. I mean the strings. Puppet strings. Personally I don’t like being tied up. With strings. Literally—” Face meet palm. Just. Stop. Talking. I pressed my lips together, mentally calculating how long I could hold my breath if I just dove into that pond right now. Would he still be standing here looking at me like I was an escapee from the psyche ward when I resurfaced? Probably not. Human instinct was to retreat from the certifiably insane.

  I bit down on my lower lip. His gaze slipped to my mouth briefly before returning to my eyes.

  “Troy, you have that meeting with the whole food supplier.” Miss Strange interrupted. She glanced at me with her disapproving eyes. “We only serve healthy, organic food here at the academy. No junk food, tobacco, drugs or alcohol use is permitted.”

  “Really?” I stared from one to the other, “No s’mores? What kind of summer camp doesn’t have s’mores?”

  Troy smirked.

  Miss Strange didn’t. “That kind of fare would be grounds for dismissal Miss Dultry. You’ll find all of our rules and regulations in the acceptance package. Including the one that specifically states there will be no fraternizing or entanglements amongst the staff. Physical, romantic or otherwise.”

  I gave a nod to underline my understanding. No naked Twister with coworkers. Got it. I didn’t say that out loud, but my face still flushed when I caught Troy’s expression.

  He handed me a thick white envelope. I could feel his eyes on me and my face started to heat as I took it. Those were some big expectations inside. It even felt heavy.

  “We’re glad to have you.” Troy said. “Your smile alone will be a nice addition to our summer program.”

  I was dangerously close to swooning. Did people actually swoon anymore? You can’t swoon idiot. He’s seen your smile before and doesn’t remember it.

  “Welcome to Wanderlust. Look forward to seeing you again Nora.” He gave me a half smile.

  Was it a hey I get it, you’re just nervous having seen me practically naked smile? Or was it a hey, I get it, you’re the type who eats the paste smile?

  He’d turned and taken his cryptic smile with him before I could figure it out. My heart beat refused to return to normal as I stared at the shimmering blue pond. Even here, in the throes of glamping paradise, I couldn’t get it together. I needed an escape hatch. And possibly a defibrillator. Life in the real world was hard. In my dreams it could be as easy as I wanted. No awkward moments. No strange glances. Only the comfortable, familiar embrace of a tangle-free love I’d recognize anywhere. So what if he wasn’t actually real, every relationship has its sacrifices.

  Chapter Seven

  One week later I was unpacking my gear in our two bedroom, two story log cabin, at Wanderlust Academy, Summer Camp Immersion.

  I’d Googled Troy Bellisaro the second we’d gotten home. Throughout his twenty four years he’d run several successful multi-million dollar companies, under the corporation Masquerade Studios, Camp Wanderlust being his most recent acquisition, according to Wikipedia. Lots about his business endeavors, nada about him socially. Everything matched the info I already knew. He was super gorgeous. Super rich. And super forgetful. The last part I’d decided for myself based on the fact he didn’t even remember me after what had been the most unforgettable night of my life. In a good way, and in the worst way possible.

  After mindlessly placing all of my belongings into two of the twelve wooden drawers provided in my bedroom, I dropped down onto the bed, and leaned back again the log headboard. The linen smelled freshly washed like rainfall and sunshine, and for some reason it made me want to be sick. Like even my digestive system knew I didn’t belong here.

  So this was it. This was my life for the next 90 days. The next 2160 hours, give or take. When you were trapped in purgatory did a few hours more or less really matter?

  I’d only had a chance to visit grandfather once before we left. I hated that I wouldn't be able to see him more. But the nurse promised she’d read my letters to him as often as they arrived.

  He was asleep more than he was awake now, but I knew he could hear me and could feel when I was there. Which meant he’d miss me when I wasn’t. And three months seemed like a very long time to be away. Still, with the money I made from this I’d be able to get him into a facility closer to home where he could get the proper care he needed. That was all that mattered now.

  I missed my old life. When Grandma was still alive. And when Granddad was still, himself.

  Sighing, I stuffed the memories back down. It was over. Moving on. Our first day was pretty flexible as far as time commitments went. There was a tour and orientation and then we were invited to explore on our own after lunch. Kenzie had already hooked up with some counselors from Brazil she’d met during the interviews. When I declined to join them for a swim, she took off, leaving me alone in the expansive cabin. It had pretty much everything you could want. Indoor plumbing, microwave, even a coffee machine. I mean it was hardly roughing it. But no TV or internet sucked, and I hated being way from my sculpting class. And of course Granddad.

  A walk that’s what you need Nora. Enough moping. I tugged a sweatshirt over my tank top and shorts, slipped on my flip-flops and headed outside. I followed the trail into the woods nearby. Beyond it was the lake, a crystal glistening clear blue body of liquid, just begging for some party-hard teens to fall in and drown. This place had high school horror flick all over its idyllic brochure. And here I was in the middle of it. A girl with a dream guy occupying her nights and a real live one traumatizing her days. At least that was how it felt seeing Troy again, after that night. Nothing like being completely forgotten to boost a girl’s self-esteem, and to be reminded of said failure every time I saw him, which from the sounds of it would be a lot of the next twelve weeks.

  I’d only been walking a few minutes when I ran into Kenzie.

  “What happened to the Brazilian boys?” I asked as she sauntered over.

  “They got hauled into the principal’s office for smoking. I told them not to do it out in the open.” She said with an eye roll. “Where ya headed?”

  “Nowhere.”

  “Can I join?”

  I shrugged and kept walking. Until I stopped dead.

  Up ahead was Troy. Fitted white t-shirt and gray track pants rolled at the waist. He was jogging, earbuds plugged in, and heading in our direction. My heart lurched and in a moment of panic, I grabbed Kenzie, shoved her into the bushes, then dove in after her.

  “What the f--”

  I clapped my hand over her mouth as Troy jogged past us, his rock hard muscles I remembered all too well, flexing as he ran.

  When he was out
of view, I climbed out of the shrubs and offered Kenzie a hand to help her up.

  She smacked it away. “What the hell was that?” She dusted her red pants, scowling. “In what universe do we dodge from gorgeous guys?”

  Every day in my universe. “Sorry. I just wasn’t ready to see him again.

  “Why not?”

  “It’s complicated.”

  “Well, make it uncomplicated.” She raised her brows in expectation. Then her foot started taping.

  Damn.

  “Why don’t you want to talk to Mr. Hot?” Her voice rose.

  “Shhh. Because,” I whispered, dragging her back toward the cabin, “I know him. I mean, we’ve met before. In the past.”

  “You’re being cryptic. What happened? How’d you meet?”

  “He was teaching this course I was taking.” I chewed my lip, regretting that I hadn’t come up with a lie.

  “Cool.” She studied my face. “Or not so cool. You don’t look too thrilled about seeing him again. Get a bad grade?”

  “Yeah, something like that.” Actually nothing like that.

  “And now he’s your boss. Cra-zy.”

  “Right?” That seemed to satisfy her, which meant for now my humiliation was safe.

  “Come on,” I sighed, “first orientation is in half an hour.”

  Chapter Eight

  Our schedules were different, so Kenzie headed to her session as I made my way toward mine. I followed the path laid out on the hand drawn maps and arrived at the outdoor theatre.

  The stage was flanked by purple velvet curtains and rows of folding chairs, most of which were occupied by fresh and eager puppet-masters-to-be. Only the front row was empty and I grabbed a seat dead center before I looked up and stopped breathing. Troy Bellisaro strolled onto the stage. Was he actually running this class? But... but... he was the owner. He was supposed to stay hidden in his office behind closed doors and away from my over active imagination and morbid sense of embarrassment. I shrunk down in my chair.