Fifteen Minutes of Summer

by Wardell, Heather

  “Sorry about that,” I said to Kia. “Again. Seems like I spend a lot of time apologizing to you lately, don’t I?”

  She had picked up her mug as I spoke, and she finished taking a long sip before setting it down and saying, “Price of fame, I guess. So we’ve got like an hour before you go off to swim. What are we looking for today? How’s your incoming suit stock?”

  I blinked. “You mean the suits I’m going to remake?”

  “As opposed to outgoing ones you’ve finished,” she said, and I stared at her and wondered whether I was imagining the sneer in her voice.

  “I still have a few... incoming,” I said, trying not to sound like I was copying her, “and I sent out about twenty yesterday when I got home from Vegas.” I gave a not-quite-pretend shiver. “It took forever. The post office was crazy.”

  “Now you know why I wanted you to help,” she said. “But that’s good they went out. I’ve had a couple come back with the wrong address and I had to pay again to resend them, so if you check the post office box before I do let me know if you get one so I’ll know to put a credit card charge through for the idiot who doesn’t know her own address for shipping.”

  I let the “idiot” comment go by because she’d given me the opening to ask what I wanted to earlier. “About the charging, and the money... it seems like we should have brought in more than we have. I mean, I shipped all those suits yesterday and I know you’ve been shipping them too, but your email said...” I didn’t finish because she’d sent the email and therefore knew she’d told me I’d be receiving only three hundred bucks for the last week’s worth of suits.

  She leaned back in her chair. “You accusing me of stealing?”

  “No! Never. I’m just confused. Each suit costs the people about a hundred bucks, and I shipped fifteen last week, and the math... doesn’t seem...”

  I trailed off because she was giving me the kind of look she’d have given a customer who entered her own address wrong. “Summer, there are costs here, you know? We pay a lot for the website, all the packing materials aren’t free, you wanted to give people free shipping so we’re eating the cost for that... even buying the incoming suits is an up-front cost. Which is why I get stressed when you don’t put enough time into making outgoing ones.”

  “I’m nearly caught up,” I said, then had to admit, “To the original orders anyhow. I’m about two weeks behind on the stuff since I came home.”

  “Try to get that down to a week, okay? I’m tired of the ‘where’s my suit?’ emails.”

  I nodded. “I will. I’m not doing too much celeb-related until New Year’s, other than some research at home and another album release party, so I’ll get lots of suits done. I’ll catch up.” MC’s wedding dress popped into my head but I didn’t tell Kia about it. She wouldn’t approve of the distraction. “I’ll catch up,” I said again.

  “Good,” she said, picking up her latte as if this ended the discussion. It might have done for her, but...

  “So, the money... that’s all that’s left after we pay the costs? Three hundred?”

  She took a breath and I said quickly, “Three for me and three for you, I mean, so six, right?”

  “Right. See? That’s better, isn’t it?”

  “I guess so,” I said, wishing I hadn’t agreed to split the profits with her but also knowing I could never have handled the business side all on my own. She was definitely earning her share.

  “We could cut the free shipping, cut down on the packaging, maybe even go back to that slower website host... all of that would give you more money.”

  Sure, but it would make things worse for our buyers and I liked knowing how happy they were with their suits and our service. “No, it’s okay. I’ll just have to work harder so we make more money.”

  She smiled. “There you go.” Then a confused look crossed her face.

  “You okay?”

  She nodded. “Of course. Just...” She stared off into space a second then shook her head. “No, nothing. I just wondered whether we’ll always get free lattes here.”

  I laughed. “As long as I’m famous, maybe.”

  “Then we’ll just have to keep you famous.” She still sounded distracted, but she wasn’t mad at me any more so I’d take it.

  “Doing my best,” I said, reaching for my own mug. “I promise you that.”

  *****

  “How’d it go in Vegas?”

  Though the pool water was warm, I shivered at the memory of giving up the wedding location to Simon and Mimi.

  “That good, huh?” Ron gave me a sympathetic smile.

  “It was fine, I guess.” Not wanting to think about it any more, because I was still scared I’d somehow done the wrong thing even though I felt sure Kent and MC would have approved, I added, “I’ve definitely got a busy New Year’s Eve coming up, that’s for sure. Hunting celebs in Toronto.”

  Ron chuckled. “‘Celebs’. You’ve got your lingo down. Too bad, though, I was going to see if you wanted to join me at my coworker’s party.”

  To cover my confusion, since I was pretty sure he meant it and I wouldn’t have expected that of him, I said in my best fake-snippy tone, “Well, I can’t. You’ll have to suffer without me.”

  He laid the back of his hand against his forehead. “I will do my best. And now let’s see you do your best. How’s that fly coming along?”

  I swam the length of the pool with my awkward butterfly stroke, and as I clung to the wall panting he said, “It’s tough, I know, but you’re getting better.”

  “Yeah, right. I can feel my arms dragging along the water.”

  “Sure, but at least they’re moving at the same time now. Not like before.”

  I had to laugh. When we’d first started working together I hadn’t been able to swim butterfly at all, but I’d always loved how powerful and elegant the stroke looked so I’d insisted on being taught how to do it. “That’s not much praise, but I’ll take it.”

  “Good, because it’s what you’re getting. Ready to go again?”

  I took a deep breath. “Sure. What stroke?”

  Instead of answering, he looked at me a moment then said, “What are you doing for Christmas?”

  I grimaced. “I’m at my parents’ place. Feeling inadequate among the brainiacs. It’s my Christmas tradition.”

  “Haven’t you got a boyfriend to take with you to take the heat off?”

  I patted my hip. “Left him in my other bathing suit pocket, I guess. Nope.” I giggled. “The only guys I’ve seen lately are Aaron, and he’s whatever the opposite of a boyfriend is, and this jerk on the plane yesterday.”

  Ron tipped his head to one side. “Jerk? What did he do?”

  I waved my hand. “Nothing, really. He recognized me, but even if he hadn’t he just clearly thought he was God’s gift to women. Had those stupid little vodka bottles in his carry-on and was trying to be all suave and sexy while telling me how he knew all about our show and giving me advice on how I should handle my career. I shouldn’t have talked to him at all but I was bored.”

  Ron laughed. “He sounds like a winner. Did he give up on you eventually? Did you stop talking to him?”

  I nodded. “I got sick of how awesome he thought he was, so I put on headphones and started watching a movie on my laptop. He had the middle seat, so he started chatting up the woman on his other side. She seemed to like it. Gave him her email address at the end of the flight. He clearly didn’t want it, he was just enjoying the conquest. I was surprised she didn’t seem to see that.”

  “Yeah, well, not everyone reads people as well as you do.”

  I stared at him. “Are you making fun of me?”

  He blinked. “Are you making fun of me? You know I meant it.”

  Did I? I thought maybe I did, but... if I did read people well, what did it mean that even thinking of Simon made me feel sick?

  We stared at each other a moment, then he said, “I always admired that about you. You figure people out in just a f
ew moments. You knew that Sandy I was dating wasn’t right for me, you helped Kent get a good deal when he bought his truck by knowing how badly the guy wanted to sell even though he claimed he didn’t, and... and of course you got that scoop out of that singer. About her tattoo.”

  “Courtney?” He hadn’t been at Kent’s yet when we discussed that. “You read the article I wrote?”

  It was hard to tell with the pool lights bouncing off the water and casting strange patterns on his face, but I thought he was blushing. “Yeah. Because you wrote it, of course, not because I’m into Courtney.”

  I eyed him, making a big deal out of it. “You say I can figure people out? Well, I’m figuring you out, and...”

  He raised his eyebrows, waiting, and I noticed how vibrantly green his eyes were, just like Kent’s. An unexpected shiver ran down my spine and I lost my train of thought.

  “Well?”

  I blinked. “I... yeah, sorry, but I think you’re actually into Courtney.”

  He chuckled. “You got me. Ready for another length of fly?”

  “No,” I muttered, getting ready to push off.

  At the other end, he didn’t comment on my stroke. Instead, he said, “What I really want to know is, have you figured MC out?”

  “Don’t have the key to that particular lock,” I said, rinsing my goggles to get rid of the fog that had built up inside the lenses.

  He gave a grunt of laughter. “Yeah, me neither. I’m kind of terrified around her.”

  I looked at him in surprise. “Really? Why?”

  “You know all that ‘I forgive you’ stuff she did with Kent on the reunion show?”

  I had wondered what that was about but hadn’t figured there was any point in asking Kent.

  I nodded, and he said, “It’s because of me. When they were dating he didn’t... stop me doing something, something I truly had no idea was upsetting her. It was no big deal, at least I didn’t think it was, but it was why they broke up, because he didn’t stand up for her.”

  I couldn’t imagine what Ron could have done to upset MC so much, but no doubt it had something to do with privacy. The woman had been a freak about that. Good thing she’d mellowed out on the show.

  Ron kept going. “When I found out why they’d split up I felt like a total scuzzbag but I couldn’t do anything about it. I tried talking to her right after it happened but I couldn’t convince her to get back together with Kent. I do like her, don’t get me wrong, and I’m glad they’re happy together now, but I’m not looking forward to spending Christmas with her. We’re all walking on eggshells enough as it is.”

  His expression told me he hadn’t meant to say the last bit, so I said, “I don’t know why the eggshells but that’s okay, I don’t need to. I’m sorry, Ron. That sucks. I know how much you like Christmas.”

  He gave me a small smile. “See, that’s what I mean. You figured out not to bug me about it. Which, for some reason, makes me want to tell you. In July, Mom found out Dad was having an affair.”

  I said all the right shocked things, but I wasn’t as surprised as I pretended to be. While Ralph and Sunny had seemed happy together I had also noticed Ralph staring at other women when we were all out for dinner, and he’d seemed a bit too fond of his admin assistant at the office, sending her flowers and texting her and giving her time off when she was sad.

  “With his stupid secretary,” Ron said in disgust, “or whatever I’m supposed to be calling her these days. It’d be a hilarious cliche if it hadn’t hurt Mom so much.”

  I wished I’d misread Ralph. “Yeah. I’m so sorry.”

  He nodded. “She took him back, because he swears it was a one-time thing and he’s sorry. Kent and Holly aren’t convinced, and neither am I, but it’s her decision. But that’ll make Christmas weird enough, and then having MC there and trying to figure out how to keep a conversation going...” Ron shook his head. “MC’s a good egg but I just wish she were more like-- more able to keep a conversation going.”

  Had he been about to say, “More like you”? I couldn’t believe that, but he was definitely blushing now so I thought I might be right. Feeling my own cheeks getting warm, I said, “You just need to find yourself a chatty girlfriend to bring.” Realizing I’d basically described myself, I quickly added, “Or a parrot. Maybe a parrot’s better.”

  Ron laughed. “Easier to get, anyhow. I...” He shook his head. “Never mind. I’m wasting your swimming time.”

  I felt like he wanted to finish his sentence, though, so I said, “I’m not ready to go yet,” and faked a few panting breaths. “Tell me.”

  His smile was warm. “See? You do read me. But it’s no big deal. It’s just that... Dad’s affair really scared me. I haven’t had a girlfriend since it all blew up, even though I’d love to, because whenever I think about getting close to someone I feel like if Dad could lie and cheat anyone could and how would I ever know if the woman would be honest with me?”

  I had no idea how to answer that, so I reached out and gave his upper arm a tentative squeeze.

  As I realized I couldn’t remember ever touching him like that before, he shrugged and said, “But like I said, it’s no big deal. I’ll work it out eventually. Backstroke now?”

  We set off down the pool but I wasn’t concentrating on my stroke. I was wondering how on earth he could consider his feelings ‘no big deal’. He deserved a great girlfriend, one he could trust completely, and how would he ever find one feeling the way he did?

  Chapter Eleven

  On the Sunday before Christmas, Ron and Kent and Sam arrived back at Kent’s place only a few minutes after MC and Liv and I had cleaned up from our marathon dress-making session. The condo’s living room was bigger than anywhere else I could go to lay out fabric, so the guys had gone out for the day to Christmas shop and get fitted for their wedding tuxes to leave us space to work.

  Seeing us sprawled out on the couch in exhaustion, Ron smiled and said, “You guys really spent all day working?”

  When I nodded, he shook his head and nudged MC. “Slave driver.”

  She laughed, and I wondered if she’d noticed how unusually awkward he’d been trying to tease her. My heart melted for him; he so wanted to be good to his brother’s fiancée but didn’t know how to make it happen.

  I tipped my head from side to side, stretching my aching neck. “I volunteered, actually,” I said, “and she bought me lunch.”

  “Well, all right then.” He smiled at me. “And how did it go?”

  “Great,” I said, then realized it was probably not up to me to say. “At least, I thought so.” I turned to MC. “What did you think?”

  She nodded. “The dress looks awesome. Kind of plain, though.”

  She said this, as she said everything, with so little expression in her voice that it took me a second to realize she was making a joke. “What, you don’t like beige cotton for your wedding dress?” I rolled my eyes at Ron. “What’s wrong with her?”

  He chuckled and sat next to me. “She’s got style, apparently. Fate worse than death. So why beige cotton?”

  “Because it’s cheaper than having to buy a bunch more of the real fabric if I mess up. Today we made a quick version of the dress in cotton so we could see where it needed to be adjusted. And then I’ll know exactly how to cut the--”

  MC’s hand flew up as if to stop me, but it hadn’t been necessary. “I wasn’t going to tell,” I said to her. “I know you don’t want anyone to know we’re using hot-pink satin and orange lace.”

  She grinned. “Okay, thanks.”

  We were actually using white velvet for the dress’s bodice paired with yards and yards of white silk for the skirt, but she was determined that nobody but me and her bridesmaids would have any idea at all what her dress was like, even that it was white. I didn’t understand why she cared, but I was determined not to spill the beans.

  Like I had about the wedding location.

  That still made me uncomfortable, but I’d done it for all the
right reasons so I pushed aside my icky feelings and said, “Anyhow, the cotton version looks awesome, with only a few adjustments needed, so I can get to work on the real one tomorrow.”

  “Don’t say the ‘w’ word,” MC said, wrinkling her nose. “It’s been a nightmare lately.”

  Liv, a fellow computer nerd, tipped her head to one side. “What’s up?”

  “We went GM without full QA and now we have so many sev one bugs that they’re rearranging all our scrums.”

  Liv’s eyes widened. “How’s that going to help?”

  “You understood that?” Ron laughed. “I thought she’d had a stroke or something.”

  I hadn’t understood it either, but where Ron clearly found the situation amusing I felt sick about it as it brought back memories of the countless times I hadn’t understood the conversations of my genius family.

  While I sat feeling stupid, Kent said, “No shop talk tonight, this is our Christmas party! At least, none of that shop talk.” He turned to me. “Got any good celebrity gossip for us?”

  I knew he was trying to help, since he knew I didn’t like feeling stupider than I usually did, but the way his comment seemed to compare me unfavorably to MC didn’t exactly make me want to talk about my work. “Nothing at the moment,” I said, more shortly than I’d meant to.

  A brief awkward silence fell, which Ron broke by saying, “Nothing about Courtney? Not that I care about her, of course.”

  I smiled at him. “Oh, of course not. And I don’t have anything right now but I am spending New Year’s in Toronto trying to get scoop on her and Misty Will and that Angel Dove girl who keeps insisting she’s a singer, so I’ll probably have something after that.”

  “I look forward to it,” he said, smiling at me, and somehow his attempts to make me feel better succeeded where his brother’s had failed.

  Chapter Twelve

  Aaron’s lips were still on mine from our greeting kiss when he said, “Did you read it?”

  I pulled him closer and kissed him a little harder before letting him go and saying, “Try to keep your mind on your work, buddy. Did I read what?”