by Rachel Bond
Her brain was buzzing. The weight of her past pressed down harder than ever, and the enormous debts loomed into her mind as big as Charles did. And that led her back to Zac and the project. She needed it, desperately. But she dared not get back in touch with Zac. Not yet. They both needed time to cool off, to regroup and maybe figure out what had happened last night.
She regretted sending the “Sorry” text. It now felt wimpy and foolish. She should have waited until she’d had more time to think, until she’d slept on it. Just thinking about it made her take a breath and let out a big sigh.
Over and over, she played through what had happened. She knew he liked her. That much was obvious. And she liked him, too. She knew that. She also knew that he had enjoyed the walk to his house, the ice cream cones, and the dinner. She could tell he’d been having a good time. They had flirted. He had flirted with her. Asked her intimate questions.
But there was something he was hiding. Something he couldn’t—or wouldn’t—tell her. A secret? Something in his past? He’d told her a lot but kept something back. It made sense; after all, it was only their first date. She wouldn’t have expected him to tell her everything. But then to utterly reject her at the end…after allowing her to touch him and accepting her kisses and even making out with her…it didn’t add up.
Maybe she’d been too aggressive. Maybe she’d come on too strong, and seemed too overtly sexual. Touching him like that. Kissing him. Perhaps he was used to being the instigator in his sexual relationships, and a woman starting something had scared him somehow.
She went back to some of the articles she’d bookmarked about Zachary Cushman, and read them again, looking for insights she might have missed the first time. But there was nothing. The articles were all on the surface, never going more than an inch below the top of the ocean, when she knew there were depths underneath that must have been beyond the reach of daylight. Hell, she felt like she knew him better than anyone who’d every interviewed him, and she’d only been around him for a few hours.
She walked to the coffee shop and peeked inside, half-expecting Zac to be there reading some of his books, but he wasn’t. She went in and found Elaine at the counter as usual.
“I had dinner with him,” Savannah said, wondering if it was smart to reveal even that much.
Elaine started preparing the standard latte and raised her eyebrows high. “Oh, reaaaaally…?”
She clearly wanted to know more. Savannah had brought it up, so it was only fair to say something. “It was nice. We got ice cream from Mike’s. Went to his house. He cooked for me. It was nice.” She felt stupid repeating the trite phrase, but her mind wouldn’t allow her to say anything more substantial. Elaine was a friend, but this was too personal. Plus, she felt it was only fair to respect Zac’s privacy.
Elaine tilted her head down and fixed Savannah with a look. “Sounds nice.”
Savannah felt bad, but just shrugged. Elaine finished making the latte and set it on the counter. “Take my advice,” she said. “Keep it business, or keep it personal. Mixing ‘em up is nothing but a recipe for disaster. It’s like oil and water. Wait, no, that’s not right…it’s like…uh…” She trailed off, clearly unable to pull the proper image to mind.
Savannah said, “Bleach and vinegar?”
“Huh?”
“Chlorine gas,” Savannah said. “See you tomorrow.”
Back at the office she found she couldn’t concentrate, and since she had no more work to do anyway, she closed up and headed home. She spent the rest of the day puttering around the apartment, tidying up, reading parts of various books, and watching random shows on Netflix.
Her life felt like a total mess. One day she was going out with a billionaire and preparing to start a new project. The next day she felt like an utter loser whose ex-boyfriend still haunted her and whose parents’ lives she had ruined. It was depressing.
***
The next day was Saturday. She felt better as soon as she woke up. Something about a new morning had always made it hard for Savannah to feel unhappy first thing.
She looked at herself in the mirror. What was she doing with her life? Nothing of great value. But that wasn’t going to stop her. She was going to leave her mark. And it would start today. She did her morning routine and drove down to the office, determined to find some new potential client or come up with a new twist on the Zac project and not to waste her time this morning.
She spent a couple of hours researching companies in the area and making a list of people to contact on Monday. It was the most productive she’d been on the sales side of things in a long time. But then her mind wandered and eventually came back to Zac and the project.
It had been long enough. She decided to call him up and risk utter rejection. What was the worst that could happen? She’d be back where she’d been a week ago.
But the potential upside was huge.
She pulled out her phone and called. After a few rings, his now-familiar voice came on.
“Hello?”
“Uh, hi. Zac, it’s me, Savannah.”
There was a slight pause. Was it longer than it should have been? What did that mean?
“Hey, how are you?” he said.
“I’m good, I’m good. So, hey, I thought you’d want to come over and see the layouts and stuff pretty soon.”
She heard something that might have been a sigh.
“I’m not really up for work, I have to say.”
“Okay…”
Then in an enthusiastic voice he said: “Didn’t you say you were into kiteboarding?”
“Yeah.” What the hell?
“Meet me at the marina in an hour. Bring your gear. You’re giving me a lesson.”
“Zac, I, uh—I’ve never given a lesson before.”
“First time for everything. Grab life by the balls, Savannah. See you there.”
He laughed and hung up, leaving Savannah feeling like she’d just been dropped from a spaceship into some kind of bizarro-world with no map and no preparation. Who the hell was this guy? What kind of game was he playing? It was like there were two of him, or maybe three. The brilliant businessman…the suave chick-magnet…the reckless adventurer?
What should she do? Either show up or not, and what would be the point of not showing up? He had invited her, after all, and whether it was another date or just some weird way of getting a free kiteboarding lesson, it only made sense to go. But the experience in his kitchen had been so incredibly hard, so demoralizing. Could she bear to see his face again?
CHAPTER 13
Mind made up, she raced home, changed, and piled her gear into the car and onto the rack. By the time she hit the marina it had been almost an hour, and Zac was already there on the beach, looking flustered and struggling with his board, harness, lines, and kite.
Savannah may have never given a formal lesson before, but it was simple to see what he was doing right and what he was doing wrong. She thought back to lessons she’d taken at Brooklyn Bridge Park along the East River from her wacky friend Mack. With a wild mane of gray hair, he reminded her of an athletic Einstein. He’d taught her balance, kite control, safety, body positioning. And once she got on the river, she found she was a natural. “Not enough wind here for you,” Mack had said. “Go west, young lady. Don’t waste your God-given talent. Hood River, Oregon. That’s where you need to be. The wind always blows in Hood River.” That was the first she’d heard of the town.
Now she smiled at the memory as she walked up to Zac. Seeing him again sent a pang of emotion through her, as visceral sense-memories filled her mind. The feel of his lips. The smell of his skin. His bulging chest muscles and firm stomach under her fingers. She stood and watched him for several seconds, trying to clear her head.
“Hey,” she finally said. He looked up and saw her. He beamed when he saw her smile.
“I think I’m gonna need a lesson just on the kite part,” he said. “Let’s get this thing in the water.”
“Whoa, h
old up, cowboy. Where’d you get all this equipment?”
“Bought it twenty minutes ago at that shop on Main Street.”
It figured. She said, “Have you ever surfed before, or windsurfed?”
He shook his head. “But I used to skateboard a bit. How hard could it be?”
She rolled her eyes and smiled. “Pretty damn hard. You’re not going anywhere near the water today.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“First you have to learn the basics. Getting on the board, getting used to the harness, balancing, controlling your kite. A pilot doesn’t learn to take off on their first day, do they?”
“I’m not learning to fly an airplane. Look at all these other guys out there. It’s easy.”
Savannah paused and glanced out at the little bay and the vast expanse of the Columbia River beyond. “You’re kidding, right?”
“No.”
“They make it look easy! They’re experts! Professionals, a lot of them. It’s like…” She struggled to find an analogy. “You ever watch tennis? Somebody really good, like McEnroe, Federer?”
“Sure.”
“They just kind of swing their racket and the ball goes shooting off, super hard, wherever they want it to go. Easy, right?”
“No…”
“This is the same thing. You can’t just hop on and do this. It takes learning and practice.”
He looked at her for such a long time, and with such an intense expression on his face, that Savannah started to wonder if perhaps he’d had a stroke and was now mysteriously paralyzed. Finally she opened her mouth to say something—anything—but at that moment he burst out laughing.
“Okay!” he said. “Learning and practice. I’m yours. What do you want me to do?” And he spread his arms out to his sides, palms up, as if feeling for rain.
Savannah squinted at him. What a strange man! “What was so funny?” she asked.
“I have no idea,” he said. “Sometimes it just hits me like that. Doesn’t that happen to you?”
“Uh…no.”
“Really? That’s too bad. You need to get out more. Be open to what life has to offer.”
Now what? He’d gone all Zen on her. But somehow his oddball characteristics only made her want him all the more. There was something so unique and strange about Zachary Cushman, it drew her to him more powerfully than she would have expected. The incredible frustrations of the other night were fading into a dull memory.
She shook her head and said, “Let’s check your harness.” She stepped closer and did a quick inspection. “Like I thought, this is pretty messed up. If you’d gone out like this, you’d’ve been dead by now.”
He cocked his head to the side. “That’s not a desirable outcome,” he deadpanned.
She fixed the harness, which had straps going down around his inner thighs as well as along his hips, all joining together in the back to form a kind of seat, ideal for beginners. She had to work inches from his cock…she could see it outlined through his shorts. Jesus Christ! She hadn’t expected this today. She tried not to look at it and was extra careful not to touch him down there. But still, she couldn’t help getting turned on.
After one major strap alteration and a few minor tweaks, he was ready.
She said, “Now let’s try it right here on the beach. No water today. Get your feet in—good. Bend your knees. Keep your back straight.” She reached out and almost touched him, then pulled back.
“It’s all right,” he said.
“No, never mind.”
“Savannah. You can touch me if you need to.”
“It’s just…your arms, bring them in like this.” She reached out again and gently put pressure on his upper arm so that it moved down and forward. He wore a short-sleeved shirt and she was touching his bare skin with her fingertips. It was only a moment, nothing really, but she felt a shiver of lust and excitement flooding her stomach and everywhere below.
She let her hand slip off. “G-good,” she stammered, trying to get ahold of herself and focus.
“Like this?” he asked, bending his knees, straightening his back, and moving his arms into position all at once. Suddenly he looked like an athlete, almost like he’d done this before.
“Exactly!”
They spent the next half hour doing drills and balance work on the sand, and Savannah taught him the basics of how to hold and control the kite. She tried to remember how she’d been taught, and repeated many of the same things her instructor had said. It seemed to be working: he was definitely getting it.
Twice more she was able to touch him—once on the arm again, and once on the back—and each time she felt that same intense thrill. It was something she hadn’t felt since high school, since those dizzy years of first kisses and fumbling feel-outs. Despite trying to focus on teaching him how to kiteboard, she ended up incredibly aroused and with her most private areas full of heat and wetness. It was a strange thing to feel, here on the sand of the little riverside beach in Hood River, Oregon, surrounded by athletic men and women in Spandex.
Something changed that day. They went to dinner at the nicest restaurant in town, and they both pretended that whatever had happened the other night at Zachary’s house had never happened. It was like they had both agreed to start afresh.
They talked for hours, about everything, and she learned more about Zachary than she had ever expected to know. There was still that lingering secret, but Savannah didn’t care anymore. She was starting to accept that this was how he was.
At the end of the evening he drove her home in the Lambo, as he called it, the not-to-subtle roar of its engine turning heads wherever they went. Like a gentleman, he walked her to the door of the Victorian and gave her a soft, short kiss on the cheek. It was more than a peck, and it felt very tender.
“I had a wonderful time, Savannah. You’re a great teacher.”
She looked down, feeling shy for a moment, then met his eyes with confidence. “Thank you,” she said. “It’s good to have a clever student.”
“‘Clever’?” he teased. “That’s all I get?”
“Yep, just clever. Maybe later I’ll upgrade you.”
“Good night, Savannah.” He squeezed her hand. “I think I might call you tomorrow. About the site.”
“Good night. Don’t wake the neighbors as you drive away.”
“I’ll try not to,” he said with a laugh.
She went inside and up the stairs, marveling at this strange day and how it had turned out. Maybe there was still hope for some kind of relationship. Inside her apartment, Ginger started meowing up a storm and rubbing against her leg as if her life depended on it. She picked her up, gave her a lot of love by scratching her chin and around her ears, then set her down and fed her.
She decided to call Alicia. They hadn’t talked in a while.
“Hey, kiddo!” Alicia answered. “I’m just on my way to the club.”
“Are you ever not at the club?”
“I’m not there right now. Just on my way there.”
“Not sure the distinction really matters. Anyway, something’s going on with that guy I told you about.”
“The billionaire? Bushman?”
“No, Cushman,” Savannah said. “He’s very strange. One minute I think he likes me, then I’m not so sure. My emotions are all over the place. It’s like I’m going through puberty, having PMS, and going into menopause all at the same time.”
“Shut your fucking mouth, bitch!”
“What?! What the—”
“Sorry, Savannah, not you. Hold on a sec.” Alicia’s voice became slightly muffled. “Well, at least I don’t look like a streetwalker. Yeah, leave us alone.”
“Alicia, I gotta go.”
“Huh? Oh, yeah, sorry. Jesus, this city’s crazy this time of night.”
“Who was that?”
“Oh, just some skank. Hey, I’m going inside now, I’ll feel you later, okay?”
“Yep. Bye.”
Sava
nnah hung up the phone, frustrated. It was hard maintaining their friendship like this, long distance. She looked out the window. A couple of lights twinkled far off along the water’s edge, barely visible in the gloaming.
Over the next week, Savannah and Zachary met about the website and Savannah got approval and was able to start work and collect the initial payment—more than enough to hire the right subcontractors and even start thinking about paying back her mom and dad. It was a great feeling to be earning money again, but it was an even better feeling to be working, designing, doing what she loved to do.
She and Zachary were together every day, at least for a few hours. Sometimes they practiced kiteboarding, other times they took hikes, ate lunch or dinner, or just hung out. One day she took him skiing on Mt. Hood, and he couldn’t believe it was possible this time of year. He’d never skied before, so it was another lesson, really, but it was fun. They ended up drinking hot cocoa beside the enormous fireplace at Timberline Lodge, an amazing wooden building constructed in the 1930s and used to film some of the exteriors for The Shining. Feeling the heat from the crackling logs and admiring the hand-carved beams and rough-hewn wrought iron, Savannah could sense she was falling for this man, although she still felt like she wanted to get to know him better.
There was still some secret, something he was hiding. She was sure of it. She hadn’t tried to kiss him again, and he hadn’t tried to kiss her either. One night after she showed him the inside of her little apartment and made him a simple dinner of pasta with red sauce, she decided it was time to try again. She started leaning over to kiss him.
He shied away.
She pulled back and flushed, feeling the heat in her cheeks. “Why can’t you tell me what’s the matter? Why won’t you kiss me?”
He shook his head, but said, “I will. I will, I promise. I just need a little more time.”
“Time for what?” Then without warning, she realized her feelings went deeper than she’d known before. Should she tell him? It felt right, but she hesitated, fearing rejection. She looked in his eyes and blurted out: “Zac, I think I’m falling in love with you.”
