“Tell me about Genaplat?”
“I know about as much as you do. Just what was in the papers and blogged about online. Boyd avoided being indicted, but I’m positive the story had a lot of truth to it. The reporter, the missing one, Novak, he hasn’t been seen since. No body was ever recovered. Nothing. He disappeared off the face of the earth. I guess I’m just happy to be here, alive, all things considered.”
“Did the connection to biotech warfare inspire you to come into this field? Or was that a coincidence?”
“I’m not exactly sure,” she said. “But I think maybe it influenced me. I was never too excited about going into law or medicine. I’m excited about bioinformation tech, nanotech, the future of how we might fight disease or cure cancer by developing science in these areas. My best friend, he is a graduate student here. Ben Davis. He’s a huge reason why I’m here myself. He’s been the biggest influence on me in the last year, and he helped me decide on this particular course of study.”
“I know Ben.” Kyle grinned. “Great student. So, you guys are a thing? I thought he had a —”
Drew interrupted.
“No, we’re just close friends. He saved my life, and he helped me hide out here in San Diego while the press went crazy. We are the exception to the rule that guys and chicks can’t be friends.”
Drew laughed.
“So... You’re not seeing anyone?”
“Nope,” she answered.
She showed all her teeth. She made eye contact. Her body language said keep talking.
“I’m sorry. It’s probably not appropriate. God. A first-year student. Never mind I said anything.”
“Hey, I’m not your typical freshman. I’m nearly thirty. Don’t sweat it. If you’re not interested, no worries. But I’m not bothered. Hell, I screwed a married Congressman, and that got spattered all over the nightly news. I’m a terrible slut.”
He looked at her, not sure what to say.
Drew burst out laughing. “Don’t be so serious.”
“Well, I’m not married,” he said. He raised up his left hand and spread his fingers.
“Oh, I noticed that a couple of hours ago,” she said.
They continued to talk, each asking questions about the other. Drew was interested in his math and chemistry background. She wanted his thoughts on the future of the bioengineering field. He asked her about her goals and dreams. They talked about their respective hobbies. They both loved the ocean, which was hard not to be the case living in San Diego. He told her he was a good sailor. She told him she’d never sailed.
Drew decided that she’d say yes when he got around to asking her out. It had been a year of celibacy for her, not for lack of desiring sex, but because she’d been through such an ordeal. As for companionship, Ben had provided enough friendship and as for sex, well, it wasn’t like she didn’t own toys. But she realized she’d been missing something, and this was it. A man in her life. Someone intelligent and sexy. Kyle Fisher was both.
CHAPTER TWO
Words are easy, like the wind; Faithful friends are hard to find.
~ William Shakespeare
Everyone I meet either wants to be my friend, fuck me, or both. The challenge on my hands, with the lines between sex and friendship so easily blurred, is that I’m not always sure whether “Let’s have lunch?” means breaking bread or a sweat.
~ Drew Stirling
...................
She preferred the Modified Isosceles Stance over Weaver. That is what she practiced and used when competing against Ben. Usually, their bets were lunch, but sometimes they upped the stakes if one or both of them was feeling extra cocky. Her weapon was a Sig Sauer P220 Carry, and she fired it down range with confidence. Under her ear protection the eight rounds she fired sounded off in a pop, pop, pop, slight pause, pop, pop, pop, slight pause, pop, pop pattern. Firing next to her was Ben Davis. He fired at his target with the confidence that had grown from competition shooting with his father since he was a boy.
The range master announced ceasefire and instructed shooters to clear their weapons. Drew and Ben placed their handguns on the table in front of them and removed their ear protection.
“You think you can out shoot me so soon?” Ben Davis asked her.
“We’ll see. Holes in paper don’t lie.”
They walked together down range. It was an outdoor range, and the weather was perfect. Drew counted the holes in her target first and then marked them with a Sharpie. She looked to Ben. “Well?”
“I win. You owe me lunch,” he said.
“Wait a minute. You fired two more rounds than I did. The last two don’t count.”
“Who knows which are the last two? God? So we’ll take the average. I still win.”
“Fuck. I’m buying you a hamburger.”
“Bitch.”
“Okay. A Double-Double. And fries.”
“Yeah, sure. That sounds good. Seriously, you are doing great. For a girl.”
Drew hit him in the shoulder and then smiled. He was the only male friend that she’d ever had who treated her as if she was one of the guys. Not like a supermodel. Not like a conquest. Not like a fuck-buddy. But like a sister and a best friend. He was also competitive with her and didn’t surrender arguments to her because she was pretty. She appreciated that more than she could express.
“Okay, two out of three,” she said.
They finished shooting the rounds they’d brought, and Ben complimented her on the improvement she’d made in the nine months it had been since she’d bought her own handgun.
“You’ve done great. I mean that,” he said. “I’m impressed. I didn’t think you’d take this hobby so seriously. I’m happy because nobody else I know out here loves to shoot. Chelsea hates guns. She tolerates my hobby, but she has no interest in it herself.”
“I enjoy shooting. It’s kind of a Zen thing. It’s cathartic. And it’s prudent, I think, considering the national attention I’ve drummed up for myself. I’m going to try and get a concealed carry permit, you know, just in case. I’ll feel better, after everything that happened, having protection.”
They loaded their gear into Ben’s trunk and left the range. Drew looked at him and thought of how much he’d changed her life. Good friends like this were as rare as getting four-of-a-kind in poker. In her life, she’d had several exceptional men friends, but they’d also been lovers. Without any siblings of her own, Ben became the brother she never had growing up.
“Is Chelsea meeting us for lunch?” she asked him.
“No, work. Just us,” he said. “So you can tell me all your juicy gossip. I can’t imagine you’ve gone your entire first week of school without getting at least one date.”
“Asshole.”
“Be honest.”
Drew was always honest with Ben. He was the only person on earth with whom she felt completely free to be herself. She shared her heart and emotions with him whenever she needed, and he genuinely listened to her.
He pulled into an In-N-Out Burger, California’s most famous drive-in burger joint. Burgers, fries, and shakes. That was the menu. No chicken sandwiches. No tacos, burritos, or pizza. Burgers and fries. Served the same way today as they were in the Fifties. Ben ordered, Drew paid, and while they waited, she broached the subject that she’d been dying to talk about all morning.
“So. You know Kyle Fisher, right?” she asked.
“Holy shit, yes. I thought you gave up sleeping with married guys?”
“What? Fuck, he’s not married. Well, he said he wasn’t married. Tell me what you’re talking about?”
“He’s married, I thought. He was married last year. Maybe he’s split up. But I know I met his wife once, at a departmental thing, last spring. But, well, that was a while back. I guess he’s divorced now.”
“Fuck.”
Drew thought about it. He had said he was single, and he’d showed her his ring finger. Not that he couldn’t be one of those guys whose career dictated not wearing a rin
g, like working in a chemical lab, or with equipment that could catch a ring and tear off a finger. But he’d been pretty adamant. Shit. I won’t get involved with another married guy. I swear.
“So, tell me more,” Ben said.
“We had coffee the first day of class. That was Monday. We had lunch on Wednesday. Dinner last night.”
“So, it sounds like sparks are flying? You ended your dry spell, finally. Shit, perhaps you’ll be in a better mood.”
“No. We haven’t—I mean, I haven’t slept with him. Yet.”
“Better find out about the wife thing first. I suppose he must have split up or something, but I can’t imagine they got divorced that fast. Even in California, it takes more than a couple of months.”
“Oh, trust me,” she said. “I plan on making that a priority.”
Their order number got called over the loudspeaker and Ben picked up their burgers. They ate in silence like old friends can do comfortably, sharing the same ketchup.
Ben was in the bioengineering post-graduate program; he planned to go into cancer research. Drew didn’t know yet what course her studies would take, but he’d influenced her a lot already. She felt she had a few years to decide what specialty to pick; there were so many different avenues she could take. The direction research had taken and the things science could do today were dramatically different than they were even ten years ago. A lot of that had to do with the exponential growth in computing, but the fact that Drew had started college nearly a decade later than most of her peers might turn out to be a fortunate thing for her. She would have more career options than she could possibly consider.
Last year, after her agent had landed her a deal for her photoshoot, Drew finally contacted her parents. They’d been left in the dark for months, actually thinking that she was dead. She hated that she had put them through that experience, but they’d brought it on themselves when they sided with Congressman Boyd. He had adamantly claimed, like a politician can, that he had nothing to do with her being attacked. But Drew knew the truth, and even if there was never any way to prove it, she’d decided not to deviate from her story and her conclusions. If someone wanted to sue her for slander or libel, let them. Ironically, before she came out of hiding, her father’s investments in Genaplat Labs had come to light. There had been an investigation into the allegations of insider trading. Nothing had come of it, except that her mother, Monica Stirling, had nearly divorced her father. It was the first-time Drew had ever seen her mother stand up to her husband.
After much negotiation, they came to a family understanding. Drew would go to college, and her father would praise her decision as if he’d won the nearly twelve-year debate with his daughter about the virtues of getting a good education instead of modeling for a living. Her mother would pretend that Drew had never posed nude, and her father would relent on disowning her in exchange for Drew not bringing up the fact that he’d put her life in danger by not believing in her.
Now that they lived across the country from each other their relationship had improved significantly. They all talked on Skype together about once every month or two. Her mother would usually text her once a week, mostly to say hello and ask her if she needed anything. It was dysfunctional, but at the same time, it produced the nearest thing to intimacy that Drew had ever had with her parents. She knew they’d disapprove of Professor Fisher. No doubt.
“When are you going to see Fisher again?” Ben asked her.
“Tomorrow afternoon. Sunday sailing. Just like the rich and famous.”
“You going to ask him beforehand if he’s still married or wait until you’re at sea and drown his ass if he lies?”
“No more drowning people.”
She got reflective.
Ben apologized.
“What kind of sailboat does he have?”
“Fuck if I know,” she said. “One that sails?”
“You saw him last night?”
“We went into downtown and had dinner. It was nice. We walked around Seaport Village. You know? Touristy shit, but romantic. We went up to a hotel bar with an amazing view. I was feeling the love, you know. I’d have gone home with him if he asked. But he didn’t ask me if he could take me home, I mean back to his place. He took me back to my apartment, walked me up to the door, and kissed me on the lips. Closed mouthed. A nice kiss, but I don’t know, does it sound Junior Highish?”
“So, what, you think he was waiting for you to ask him in?”
“Maybe. I don’t know. Maybe I was feeling cautious. Had he pressed, I would have extended an invitation to come inside. It’s not like I’m not ready to get laid. Hell, it’s been awhile.”
“He must be gay or dysfunctional or feeling guilty. That’s always my thought, I mean, you’re a fucking hottie.”
“So, what, you’re saying you don’t like women because you never pressed?”
“Maybe,” he said. He smiled, and his eyes glowed with affection. “Maybe I think you’re my sister. I love you, you know that, right?”
“Yes, I wouldn’t be here without you. You’re the big brother I never had, and we should agree never to ruin our relationship with sex. Deal?”
“Deal,” he said. Then after a pause, he added, “Wait. Caveat. If we’re ever stuck on a deserted island or something, you know, or if we’re the last two people on earth? Zombie apocalypse? We make an exception?”
Drew smiled and stuck out her hand.
“Deal. And if that’s the case, I’ll have your babies.”
They shook on it.
CHAPTER THREE
That line between love and lust was thin as a whisper.
~ Julia Karr
My daughter’s generation treats sex more casually than necking was in my day. The first man I kissed passionately is also the man I married. Then we had sex. On our wedding night. I feel like a stranger in this new world.
~ Monica Stirling
...................
Drew woke up when her phone chimed.
Incoming text: Good morning. It’s a beautiful day, let’s leave earlier, can you be ready in an hour? Coffee?
It was seven in the morning. Fuck. It’s Sunday. People aren’t supposed to be up yet. She rolled over, decided she could handle being ready by eight, and texted him back.
Outgoing text: I’ll be out front at 8.
Drew stumbled to the shower. A mild hangover threatened, so she drank an entire bottle of water. She had studied the entire day before, but Ben and Chelsea had convinced her to grab a drink sometime around nine; diminishing returns had set in on her studies so it wasn’t a hard decision, but one drink became two and the next thing she knew it had reached two in the morning, not the first time they’d closed down a bar together, but she’d intended to get more than four hours of sleep, she didn’t normally wake up early on a Sunday to go sailing.
She didn’t normally wake up early on a Sunday for any reason. Oh well, get used to it.
...................
Kyle drove up in his Jeep CJ7. Back home she’d expect to see a dog, two rifles, and the rear full of empties. But in California, with a professor driving, the jeep was spotless, freshly waxed, and the only contents were his overnight bag. The top was down. He was wearing shorts and a Grateful Dead tee-shirt, the most casual clothes Drew had seen him in. He was a good-looking man. No, a sexy man. Sexy and good-looking. Combined with his intelligence, he had a gravity she was starting to orbit.
She knew she’d better find out the truth about him soon, the last thing she wanted was another round of being in someone else’s relationship drama. She threw her bag into the back and leaned into him for a kiss. They headed down the road and without talking about coffee, he knew to drive to a Starbucks.
He put his hand on her thigh.
“You look nice,” he said.
“You’re not so bad yourself. I see you have plenty of time between classes to keep your tan maintained.”
He smiled. Teeth like piano keys. “Have you sailed before?�
�
“Nope. I hadn’t spent much time at the ocean at all until a year ago. I can snow ski pretty well. I like the beach, the sunshine, and the warm weather much better than the snow. I’ll still visit my folks, but after this year, I know I’ll never live near cold and snow again.”
“I’ve been in California since I was a kid. I can’t imagine shoveling snow. I learned to sail and surf when I was a teenager and never got into snow sports.”
They pulled into the marina where Kyle kept his boat moored.
“It’s a Bristol Sloop. I got her six years ago, a divorce sale. Got a good price, she’s a great little craft, just under thirty feet. Twenty-nine point nine to be exact. She’s capable of long-range cruising with two people, although I’ve only gone as far as Ensenada to the south and up to San Francisco to the north. I’m not sure I’d want to sail all the way to Hawaii, but she’s capable.”
Drew followed him aboard, and he gave her a tour. She’d never been on a real sailboat before.
“She’s no luxury yacht, but she’s mine. Wait until you feel how peaceful it is out there. We’ll see dolphins for sure, it’s a bit early for whales, but I have seen plenty of those, too. It’s kind of crazy being close to a whale in this because they are so huge.”
“Can I ask you something?” Drew said.
Undressed At Sea: A Psychological Thriller (Drew Stirling Book 2) Page 2
