by Cherry Kay
“College classmate.”
“Is that why you dropped out?”
He gave a mirthful laugh. “Of course not. We were together before I dropped out, and then I decided to start my own company. “What makes you think that I would drop out because someone had broken up with me?”
She shook her head. “Sorry I mentioned it.”
“Don’t be sorry. It only means it doesn’t hurt,” he said.
“It doesn’t anymore?”
“It’s been years.”
“Is that why…” Caryn’s voice trailed off.
“Like you said, we were two horny, but consenting adults,” David reminded her. “We slept with each other for purely social reasons… apart from that fact that I find you attractive.”
Caryn felt her ears heat up. He found her attractive. Should that have been a given? After all, she was the daughter of a black model and a white business tycoon… she hated thinking about it already. “Well, you’re not bad looking yourself,” she shot back. “I guess that’s fair, then.”
“Nothing is ever fair, and we enjoy this while we can.”
“It’s like you’re ending what hasn’t even started yet,” Caryn’s voice trailed off.
“Let’s face it,” David sighed, “I plan to stay here for as long as I can, and you plan to stay here until you get to write an award-winning piece. Our paths only crossed because we share the same beach.”
She didn’t want for it to end. It pained her all of a sudden, the realization that their little secret romance could end anytime. All they had to do was wait, all they had to do was wait for either one of them to decide that they no longer needed to see each other. She was afraid it was going to be her.
She drank her pineapple juice in silence.
“You know,” David spoke up, “I’m starting to find you bearable.”
“Should I be flattered?”
“It’s my way of saying I like you.”
*
He didn’t like how he had said that. I’m starting to find you bearable? Way to go. He was supposed to be the straightforward, no nonsense guy, and yet, he couldn’t tell it to her right away. IT was because he was alone, and she was decent company. Decent company was the right word, there was nothing extraordinary about being with her. He didn’t feel the same way, the butterflies in the stomach, the stolen smiles and glances… he didn’t feel the need to please her all the time. Everything was the opposite. He was calm around her. She was just decent company- that was all…
He had excused himself to work a little past eleven in the morning, but he didn’t work. Instead, he found himself seated on a chair, overlooking the ocean, staring into nothing, thinking about what had transpired between them the last couple of days. There was little he could do about it, right? He could stop seeing her, he could stop trying. The funny thing was, he wasn’t trying to be nice. Everything he had done for her, he was genuine about it.
Caryn personally didn’t like using people, he could see that about her, and he liked it. There were qualities he found in her that he didn’t find in the other women he had met and had dated briefly. He had tried to get over his ex in numerous ways, from working out, to blind dates (except sleeping around), and extreme sports- not to mention the sudden purchase of a few hectares of land in Lānaʻi.
Emotions were creeping up to him again, and he didn’t like it. She was decent company, and yet her face, her voice, it filled his thoughts constantly when he didn’t see her. He needed time to validate things. Validate what? Feelings? What else was there to think about? He had slept with her, she had consensually done so with him.
He was going to stop all this nonsense. He had thought about ending it, the moment he started to think about her more often than not. He knew she had gone through some pain, and it was something she refused to divulge. It was better that way. Knowing her personal history meant further attachment, and he could not have that right about now.
Nothing is ever fair, and we enjoy this while we can. The mantra sounded harsh, but he didn’t want her expecting things. Women were highly likely to end up expecting more than a guy would bargain for.
“It’s like you’re ending what hasn’t even started yet…”
Believe me, Caryn Porter, it’s for our own good, highly likely to be my own good, he added. He didn’t work the rest of the day. He spent it reading a book instead, and halfway through, he realized why he didn’t like reading stories like Great Expectations. They were about people playing with each other, who did the best psychological damage to whom, and right in the middle of it was an innocent boy. That wasn’t him, of course. It could have been him years ago…
Love, he scoffed.
*
Caryn had just begun to write part two of her article, when the telephone rang. Not her cellphone, but the telephone. It was a strange feeling, holding onto something that chunky and ancient. Was it David? It had only been 24 hours. Yes, she counted, and yes, she knew this.
“Hello?” she breathed.
“Hello? Hello Caryn? Caryn? Can you hear me?” a woman’s voice crackled on the other end.
“Ms. Stein?” Caryn said, unsure.
“Yes, yes. Great, you can hear me. How are things going?” she quickly asked.
“I’m still in the middle of doing research.”
“A month’s a month,” Stein told her. “What’s making you stay in that lonely and backwards island, anyway?”
“Work,” Caryn replied shortly. “The island isn’t as bad as you’d assume.”
“Listen, we need you back. Stop that article.”
“But I--” Caryn began, “I’ve started something, this is going to be a good story.”
“Not as good as the one that’s brewing in Washington. They’re talking about an impeachment.”
“For the president?”
“You thought that right,” Stein said, excited. “You’re the only one who can give a thorough and squeaky-clean touch to this.”
“I can’t, I already started--”
“Well, come back for it. The paper’s getting you a ticket back to the mainland as we speak, tomorrow, grab that first flight out of the island, back to Honolulu, and next stop, L.A!”
“Ms. Stein…” Caryn breathed out closing her eyes. “I’m too close to something here, I’m about to make really good news from--”
“From a nerd who’s run away from his own creation? Sweetie, that story can wait.”
“I worked on this for almost a year.”
“And you can continue with it after. Now, get back here, before this whole thing blows up. I want us to be first. You know you’re in the running for an anchor position, right?”
Her heart leapt for a moment. Anchor meant TV, TV meant exposure… she had wanted this before, so she could shove it up her father’s family’s throats- that she had done well despite their cruelties…
“I’ll see you at the office on Monday,” Stein said, not waiting for her to respond.
Caryn heard the other end click. Her first long distance call that didn’t involve a mobile phone, or an internet connection. She was glad that it wasn’t a video conference. Her face was in distress, she knew, the moment she heard that she could come back for it, which was highly unlikely.
She began to pace around her tiny cottage, occasionally looking up to see the ocean, trying to make sense of what had just happened. So she was being recalled, like she was in the military, and she had no choice. This was her time to shine, and Ms. Stein believed in her. Stein was the news company’s assistant editor, and their newspaper and branched out to a fast-growing TV news corporation as well…
She looked back at her notebook, its pages being flipped through by the wind. She had written something wonderful, something that humanized the man everyone assumed to be dominated by data alone. She was about to stop. She was about to stop thinking of him, if she could. She was to stop writing about him, a back story she didn’t even know yet. There was a good story waiting, beneath his
often-cold demeanor.
How can someone be that warm underneath? It wasn’t just the sex, she thought. It was as if he was ashamed to be seen that he was kind… there was a story brewing right there, one that could bring the elusive billionaire’s story back to light, and perhaps rid him of all that negative press.
People knew everything the media showed, but even she didn’t know who he truly was, yet. David James Pierce was an enigma, and he had been her lover. The tropical air had done something to her, it made her far more impulsive than she deemed she could be. Lover. Was she even right to assume that? It was just plain sex that was all it was. She was sure he thought the same way. He couldn’t even be bothered to ask how she was.
What did she expect? They barely knew each other, except for those sporadic conversations that didn’t include moaning and kissing. Caryn suddenly felt cold to her bones. She found herself packing in the next few minutes. The company had paid for her rent, which was a good thing, at least she didn’t have to shell out so much money. She was moving out again, and strangely enough, she didn’t want to move anymore. She was ringing in the New Year alone again, when Christmas had been lovely to her.
Would she let him know? She closed her eyes, thinking of the repercussions. He would just scoff at her… what did he say again?
“Let’s face it, I plan to stay here for as long as I can, and you plan to stay here until you get to write an award-winning piece. Our paths only crossed because we share the same beach.”
She would take one more walk by the beach, soak her feet into the cool waters… but she would not tell him she was leaving. Maybe this was for the best, maybe this was how it was supposed to be. David didn’t seem like the type for goodbyes, and she wasn’t either. She was awkward at this, and she didn’t want the feeling or rejection from his end, which was probable. What was she going to say, anyway?
Hey, guess what, I’m leaving tomorrow. Or hey, guess what, I’m being recalled by work. Or, or, my people need me, I must go.
How was he going to take it? Casually? Indifferently?
There was a spark in her that had started the moment they spoke. A spark to live, a spark to do all that should be done and could be done. All she needed was to meet him. And she was leaving tonight, just when she thought the stars had aligned, just when she thought she had found her oasis in the middle of a desert of stress and loneliness, and lack of hope and happiness.
We just used each other, she told herself, and it was good while it lasted. All good things must come to an end. Whoever coined that was an asshole. She didn’t want this only good thing to stop, he was something good to her, and she was humble enough to admit that.
The clock struck five-fifty in the afternoon, and the last rays of the sun had begun to dip lower and lower across the horizon as she walked towards the shore. This was going to be her last island sunset, and he wasn’t even around. Caryn closed her eyes and let the water splash around her feet.
*
He had looked at her yesterday, as the sunset lingered, casting an orangey hue on her that surprisingly suited her from afar. He didn’t mean to, but he seemed to be in the right place and the right time. He had taken a break from that room, taken a break from thinking, and he decided to walk out onto the balcony to think some more.
And there she was, eyes closed and at peace with the world. He had never seen her that calm before, it was serenely beautiful to look at, the way she raised her chin ever so slightly to feel the warmth, the way her palms outstretched to feel the breeze… it was almost like a story.
It was a story whose direction he did not know of. He was the master of his story, she was probably just a chapter, wasn’t she? A prolonged chapter of fun. She was decent company, and a good distraction… He shook his head, knowing he was too wrapped up in her clutches this time, and she wasn’t even flirting, she wasn’t even seducing him.
What’s the matter with you? He snapped at himself. Focus, man. You have better things to attend to, like your company, like those pending cases against those assholes- he had nearly forgotten about his ex-girlfriend, he hadn’t even compared Caryn to her.
That like had gone beyond liking. Infatuation wasn’t even there. As the sun began to rise that morning, he knew he had to tell her, so they could figure things out together. What was there to figure out, again? Living arrangements? Privacy in their relationship, whatever their relationship was? They weren’t exactly friends, they didn’t talk like friends. They were careful around each other, but David felt, at that moment, she was as good as things got, or even better.
This wasn’t because he was lonely. He liked being alone. But seeing her more than he saw anyone else for the last month- it certainly put things into perspective. He was single, she was single. David knew he had tried to reason things through with himself. Sex was practical, right? Companionship as well. All they had was each other on the island. His heart beat quickly for a moment, and that was when he knew that he was in too deep.
Taking a deep breath, he raced for his car, intent on waking her up with that realization: that David James Pierce couldn’t live without her around. He was still rehearsing things in his mind by the time he got to the dirt road driveway that led to the little cottage. A breeze played through his dark hair, and he felt at peace. Taking a deep breath, and armed with a bouquet of hastily picked orchids and other native flowers, he knocked on her door.
There was no answer. He knocked again. And again. And again. Was she still asleep? He had thought she was a deep sleeper, but his knocks had gotten progressively louder, and still she hadn’t come to the door. Frowning, he peered through the windows, and he saw no one in the living or dining area, nor did he see her in the kitchen.
He knocked again, his knocks getting increasingly louder along with his impatience. “Caryn?” he called out. “Caryn?”
He walked for the makeshift garage, and he didn’t see the jeep she had rented. Did she go to the market or something? He checked the backdoor that led to the little vegetable garden, and it opened, much to his relief.
“Caryn?” he began, walking into the house. He checked the bedroom, and he found it devoid of clothes, or anything that remotely belonged to her. His heart began to pace quicker than he allowed for it to, and his eyes widened- and the realization hit him like a brick on the face.
She was gone.
Chapter9
One year later…
“I hadn’t been very honest with you while we dated,” she had told him as they sat down in a quaint café. It was an exquisite Cali-French inspired place that was devoid of other customers, just a little past two in the afternoon.
David sighed. “We came here to talk about the past?” The niceties had flown by quickly, hadn’t it?
He didn’t want to, but she begged. Amanda Thorley had begged to meet up, for ‘closure’ of sorts. It had been a bad breakup, he knew, but he didn’t need this. It had been how long? It had been four years already, right?
“I came here to ask for your forgiveness.”
“We didn’t have to meet,” he told her, harshly. “You could have just sent an email or text. Look, I can’t be here for long--”
“Who hurt you, David?” Amanda asked him all of a sudden.
“What?” David looked confused.
“We dated for three years, I know you better than you think.”
“People change, Amanda,” came his simple reply.
“Someone did this to you,” she told him in a quiet voice. “I know it wasn’t me, or Charles, or--”
“I don’t need to hear the names of my former college best friends, or any of those who stole my company from me,” David told her. “The past is the past, and it stays that way.”
“You already won the case, David. Everyone else lost money, a lot of money.”
David shook his head. “It’s not about that. And it’s not like you lot are on welfare. You still have a few million left, right? Enough for a start-up.” “Charles isn’t as brilliant as--”
David shook his head. “Stop. I don’t want to hear about Charles, or your relationship. I’ve heard what you have to say, now I have to go, excuse me,” he told her, getting up from his seat.
“David,” she called out as he took two steps forward.
David paused and looked at her again. “Yes?”
“Have you ever thought of second chances?” Amanda said.
David shook his head. “I don’t know what you mean. Goodbye, Amanda.”
Walking away from the restaurant and into his car, David felt a frown form between his brows. Who hurt you? Amanda’s voice echoed in his head, as he drove down the winding road, and back into the bustling city. No one’s hurt me, he told himself. He was 28 years old, he had won back his company, and was in the process of overhauling all the idiotic things that his former colleagues did.
It wasn’t easy, but he got there. He had gone back to California just a day before New Year’s, after that fiasco with Caryn, and a few months later, his legal team had pulled through for him, along with a hefty multi-million-dollar price tag for the fees.
What kind of idiot was he? That was what you got if you built everything on trust alone. That was what you got for refusing to do a background check on her, for reasons of chivalry, or for reasons of intimacy.
Never again, David had told himself. Who hurt me? My ego hurt me. I expected too much, I’m partially to blame. But he couldn’t help but hate her for what she had done. He felt played, when he had thought he was the smarter, more mature one. He had tried to find her, and gave up as soon as a week had gone by. He could run his facial recognition database, but she had no criminal or public records (the criminal free records, he was thankful for).
Caryn Porter didn’t exist. She was a journalist who had no face, no name, and he had scoured various magazines and journals, and random books, just to check if her face or name was there. There were none. It had helped that a year had gone by already, at least he knew he was on the process of getting over it completely. He didn’t even bother hiring a detective to find her, just for his personal peace of mind. It’s better not to care.
