by Lindy Zart
“What time do you think it is?” I ask when I can no longer stand the silence.
Ben’s eyes are closed, his head resting on the rock wall behind him. “I have no idea, maybe four, maybe later.”
Since I’ve been in Illinois, I have only portrayed myself as sophisticated, strong, and yes, tenacious. As far as Ben knew, I didn’t have any weaknesses, and I certainly never looked anything less than perfect. That all got blown away within minutes of being outdoors. It figures, as it is my least favorite place to be.
“How can Extreme Retreat not allow their participants to have some means of protecting themselves?” I voice thickly. “A radio, or flares, or…I don’t know…something.”
“We’re supposed to rely on our teammates,” is Ben’s low response. “Extreme Retreat is known for their hardcore team-building excursions. We all read the manual.”
“It’s ridiculous,” I huff.
Our eyes meet across the space of the small cave.
Water pings at the back of the cave, gathering in a small pool on the earthen floor. I think about how I fell on Ben. My pulse spins. I think about the feel of him pressed against me, the look on his face. The fire in his eyes. I think I need to think about something else. I switch my brain to my boss, someone I’m interested in learning more about.
“How long have you known Duke?” My pulse is at odds with the calmness of my voice.
“I’ve worked for Sanders and Sisters since I graduated from college, so about four years.”
“Where did you go to college?”
“Illinois State University.” Ben pauses. “You?”
“Just a community college in Montana.”
Ben narrows his eyes. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
I shrug one shoulder. “It’s not as impressive as a four-year college.”
“Who cares?” he retorts.
I blink, and then I slowly nod. He’s right. Who cares? Surprised and grateful by his nondiscrimination toward anything that has to do with me, I return the conversation to our boss. “Can you tell me more about Duke?”
Ben lowers his chin and levels his eyes on me. “You know what he’s like.”
“As a boss, yes, but…not as a person.”
“Why do you ask?”
I shrug, dropping my gaze to my ruined clothes and dirty, scratched skin. My mouth wobbles at the thought of how horrible my hair must look and that Ben’s seeing me this way. I guess I should be glad there isn’t any kind of mirror nearby.
Ben goes still, a curiously blank look flashing across his face. Disgust, maybe anger, shoots through his eyes. His voice is dangerously soft when he speaks. “Tell me you aren’t interested in Duke Renner.”
My stomach spins at the thought, and not in a pleasantly giddy way. It’s more of a going-to-be-sick sensation. “No! Definitely not. I mean…not the way you think. Just, you know, he’s my boss, and I don’t know a lot about him.”
Ben’s next words show me I might as well have not spoken, because he isn’t listening. “He’s old enough to be your father.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I snap, anger and frustration churning through my stomach.
He laughs scornfully. “I shouldn’t even be surprised. You’d do anything to get ahead in your career. You’ve already proven that.”
That stings as if he slapped me across the face. I briefly touch my cheek, expecting a welt. There’s just the one on my heart, and it aches. I can’t even respond to that; I look at Ben and wish things hadn’t gotten so twisted between us.
Ben stares back, the fury melting away to guilt as we silently watch each other. “I didn’t mean—”
“Don’t lie, Ben. You did mean it.” I launch myself to my feet and head toward the entryway.
Ben lunges for me, barricading the exit with an arm in front of me. “Where are you going?”
“Anywhere but here.”
He turns his head to the side to meet my gaze. “You’re not going out in the storm.”
“You don’t get to tell me what to do.” I shove at his arm, but he only strengthens his grip. “Get out of my way.”
“No.”
“I mean it.”
“It’s dangerous out there,” Ben says.
“Why do you care?” I retort.
He gets a strange look on his face before answering, “I don’t.”
I silently fume, not moving.
“Please, sit down,” he tells me in a quiet voice, his expression beseeching.
I give him a withering look before complying.
Ben sighs and runs a dirty hand over his even dirtier face. He hobbles back to his spot and carefully sits. “Duke is a hard-ass, but he’s fair. He’s egotistical, but he also has a good heart. He made his fortune out of nothing and he did it all on his own. That takes guts, brains, and talent. I respect the hell out of him as a businessman. And personally, Duke’s a pretty decent guy.”
“How so?”
“My parents decided to cancel Thanksgiving last year to instead go on a trip out west. My sister wasn’t coming home because she was going to her boyfriend’s. Having nowhere to be, I was going to hang out at home, watch some movies, maybe eat a frozen pizza. Duke found out and insisted I go to his house. Most employers wouldn’t do that, let alone ask their employees about their Thanksgiving plans.”
“Does he…” I take a shaky breath and start over. “Is he married? Does he have kids?”
Ben’s look turns inquiring, his keen gaze studying my expression.
“I didn’t see anyone with him at his birthday party last month and I wondered,” I quickly explain, heat creeping up my neck and into my face.
“He was married, but it only lasted a couple years, and it was long before I knew him. Duke’s too much of a workaholic to make a relationship last. Sanders and Sisters is his life; it comes first. No kids.”
I put a hand to my now flip-flopping stomach and close my eyes. It takes me a moment to get my breathing even enough to respond. “I see.”
“Do you think you’ll stay at Sanders and Sisters?” This time, Ben sounds curious instead of vindictive.
“Maybe,” I answer honestly. “I enjoy working there. Everyone is really nice, and I like the work.”
“Even Juan?”
I smile, thinking of the man who pretends he can’t speak English to mess with people. He had me practically trying to mime for weeks as a form of communication with him before someone finally told me he understood everything I was saying. He and Nate are in charge of ad development and production. “Even Juan.”
The Sanders and Sisters building itself is tiny and white with a red door, but like they say, it isn’t about size. That red door accurately states the motto behind Sanders and Sisters. It’s a power color, and Sanders and Sisters is dynamite when it comes to advertising pitches and transforming a thought into a product stamp. To me, it’s impressive to be small but fierce in an always-changing business world. You have to change along with the trend or be the one who starts it. Otherwise, you get left behind. Duke knows what he’s doing. For barely knowing him, I feel oddly proud of the man.
“Are you really going?” I ask, eyes down.
Without looking, I know he shrugs. “What did you do before you came to Illinois?”
The question startles me. Ben having any interest in me is rare. “I worked in the marketing department for a clothing store.”
“And you left there because?”
I shrug, avoiding the question the same way Ben avoided mine.
“Aside from the job, I also like the area where I live,” I tell Ben.
“You’re in Lake View, right? That’s a pretty part of the city.”
I nod. “At the Marymount on Elaine Place.”
Ben lets out a low whistle. “Fancy.”
“It’s beautiful,” I admit. “The brick and rock walls add amazing character to the place.”
He doesn’t reply.
“At first, it seemed so lo
nely.” I’m not sure why I tell him that. At Ben’s blank look, I explain. “This is the first time I’ve lived on my own. It took a while to adapt to it, but now I like it. I’m used to small-town living too. Chicago is like another country compared to where I grew up.”
“Who did you used to live with?”
Pain pools in my chest, in my heart. “My mom. We…we’re really close. She’s my best friend.”
Ben’s eyes reflect the dark skies. There are questions there I cannot answer.
“And, most importantly,” I say to change the subject. “There’s this amazing Italian restaurant not far from my apartment.”
“Oh, yeah? What’s the name of the place?”
“Rosa’s Italian Cuisine.” My mouth salivates at the mention of it. Although, trail mix is beginning to sound just as good.
Ben sits up, animation returning to his drawn features. “I love that place.”
My eyebrows shoot up. “Seriously?”
“Their breadsticks and pasta?” He rolls his eyes and sets a hand to his chest. “Delicious.”
I laugh, liking the sight of the sparkle in his dark eyes. I want this to last, and I also know it won’t. I decide to enjoy the easy conversation until he remembers he hates me.
“Definitely. Maybe we can go there sometime.”
The light dies, and he settles back against the wall, shadows settling over his features. There it is: the moment he remembers.
Ben’s voice is deadly as he tells me, “The people at Sanders and Sisters? They’re nice because they’ve only been shown one side of you.”
I pull air into my lungs, turning my focus to the storm. The thunder and lightning have lessened, but the rain is heavier now. I twist my fingers around the hem of my damp shirt, only now realizing I am no longer cold. I am, in fact, hot from Ben’s words. I wish I could explain my actions, but I don’t think it would matter.
“You don’t have to hate me,” I say quietly.
“That’s where you’re wrong.”
The funny thing is, when Ben says the words, I don’t hear resentment.
I hear regret.
BEN
Out here, it feels as if we’re the only people in the world. This is a perfect setting for murder and mayhem, maybe some mutilation by wolves or bears. Even while knowing there are animals around us, I have yet to see any of significant size. They’ll probably make an appearance in the dead of night while we sleep and gnaw off an arm or two. God, I hope we’re still not here tonight. With any luck, they’ll decide Avery tastes better than me.
I don’t mean that.
Mostly.
My conscience says it’s possible I am being unfair to her. My pride doesn’t give a damn.
“I don’t think we’re going to make it to the lodge before everyone else,” Avery states as the rain stops and wind takes its place.
I snort. “I’m pretty sure everyone but us has made it there.”
I am mentally kicking myself in the ass for not having more interest in Cub and Boy Scouts as a child. I vaguely recall my dad encouraging me to sign up and me flatly refusing, speeding off on my tricycle. I was four or five. Still, he asked every year and every year I said no. I didn’t like that kind of stuff. I liked operating fast things and sports. My parents knew that, and they didn’t push it. How I wish they would have pushed it.
I take a drink of water, offering the bottle to Avery. “Drink some, but pace yourself.”
Avery takes a careful sip, longing in her eyes as she hands it back. It makes me want to give her all the water and go without, just to not see that look on her face. I shake my head. How does she do that, make me forget what she’s done, again and again? I would blame it on magic, if I believed in such things.
“We should set out again as soon as the storm stops so we are visible to the search team.” Her stomach growls, stating its needs for food. When I don’t say anything, she adds, “They’ll find us. I’m sure a rescue team is already looking. It won’t be long now.”
Avery’s voice is determined. I know we’ll be found; I just hope it’s before anything really bad happens to us. I draw lines in a dirt patch with a stick, eyes down.
“You don’t think they’ll find us today, do you?” she asks.
I look up. Somehow, in the dimness, her eyes glow. Like they captured the sun and that’s why it can’t be seen. “I don’t know about today, but I think they will,” I answer slowly.
“I don’t want to be lost out here forever, Ben.” Avery takes a shaky breath, her eyes shining with unshed tears. She averts her face when she realizes I can see them.
“You won’t.” When she looks doubtful, I add, “If anything, we’ll die before we can be lost forever, so there’s that.”
Her next words are firm. “If they don’t find us, then we’ll just have to find them. We’ll figure out the way back, I know we will.”
We did a top-notch job of that this afternoon.
I sigh and drop the stick, moving to a small pool of rainwater to wash dirt from my face and hands. The dampness of my clothes has seeped into my skin, turning me into a human cooler. It’s to the point where I don’t feel the cold much anymore. I move to take off my glasses before remembering they’re most likely a chew toy for some wild beast. Lucky for me, my eyesight isn’t terrible. Face and hands feeling a smidge cleaner, I return to my spot.
Avery holds herself tighter as the wind picks up and is sucked into our inadequate shelter. I watch her shiver, and before I can talk myself out of it, move closer to add my warmth to her. Avery tenses before relaxing against my side with a small sigh. I loosen my stiffly held arm and put it around her shoulders, ignoring the pinpricks of awareness that flood my body as she melts into me.
She still smells good, somehow. I smell like sweat and mud.
I close my eyes, listening to the strong beats of my heart. If we only have each other, we have to take care of one another. That’s all it is. I’m looking out for my partner. Animosity has no place out here. I mean, not much anyway.
An animal howls in the distance and Avery presses tighter to me.
“What was that?” she whispers.
“It was just a dog,” I whisper back.
Her soft laughter floats over me and I find myself smiling in return. It drops from my mouth as soon as I feel the bend of it.
We should both rest, but any time I think about it, I see an image of us lying next to one another on the ground, spooning for warmth. I’d like to avoid that for as long as I am able. So I talk.
“What happened with you and a bird to make you scared of them?” I ask.
Avery clasps her hands, showing off dirt and chipped fingernails painted pale blue. Her mouth turns down. “I was eight. My mom took me to the park to play. While there, I noticed a nest on the ground and I went over to look at it. There were eggs in it. I wasn’t going to touch them; I just wanted to look. I guess I got too close because this bird came diving at me from the sky and then proceeded to chase me around the park. Its feet even got caught in my hair at one point.”
She shudders, and then her mouth quirks. Avery laughs softly. “My mom was simultaneously trying to catch me and swat at the bird, along with screaming at it to get away from me and at me to hold still. People were staring at us. I imagine it looked pretty funny. The bird finally gave up on me after we put enough distance between us and its nest. I didn’t want to go outside for the rest of the summer.”
A smile hitches to one side of my mouth.
“It’s still my least favorite place to be, and not just because of that. I swear nature has it out for me.”
“What else happened?” I surprise myself by actually wanting to know. This isn’t just about passing the time; it’s about getting inside the head of the enigma sitting next to me. I want to know Avery, and then I want to know why she set out to sabotage me. I guess being stuck together could have a couple advantages. Namely, she can’t run when I decide to grill her about her duplicity.
She sha
kes her head, her hair barely moving with the motion. Not surprising with the fifty pounds of mud imbedded in the locks. “Tell me something about you,” she says.
“There’s no point in talking about me. I’m an all-around boring guy. It isn’t only my hairstyle.”
Avery frowns, but she doesn’t say anything.
Sighing, I give a minor detail. “I had braces. See? Bor-ing.”
Avery’s eyes drop to my mouth. “I guess I wouldn’t know whether or not your teeth are straight, since you rarely smile.”
I decide to let that one go. “How did you find Duke?”
Avery stiffens and pulls back. “What do you mean?”
I turn my head toward her, bringing our faces close. She truly is one of the most visually attractive women I’ve seen in my twenty-six years. Her nose is straight, and her eyes make me think of liquid gold. The normal shine of her hair is openly envied by the other women in the office. With her lips full and glossy, and perpetually posed for a kiss, it’s not surprising that they’ve become the subject of too many conversations among my male coworkers. And her body—my mouth goes dry and I shift my eyes from her.
Even covered in grime as she is, there is no way to not see how well-made she is. Avery’s beautiful—and she’s also a spoiled, power hungry snob who may or may not be on a quest to seduce our boss. The thought makes me sick, and furious, and I’m not completely sure why. It’s personal though;my guts are twisted up inside and there is no way to unknot them.
“I mean, how did you find Sanders and Sisters? What made you apply for a job there?”
“Oh. Some…things happened and I thought it was best to make a change. I was looking online for jobs in states other than Montana when I saw the ad for Sanders and Sisters. I’ve always loved to write.” Avery lifts and lowers a shoulder.
“What do you like to write?”
“I’ve been writing poetry since I was a kid. Before this, I did freelance articles for a couple magazines, but it wasn’t on a regular basis. When I saw the ad online, I sent in a bunch of my poems and other work. I figured, the worst that could happen was that I wouldn’t get an interview, but I did. Then I told myself I probably wouldn’t get the job, but I did. And here I am.”
