I saw him turn, his gaze on my face. “You don’t read anymore?”
I shrugged. “Work keeps me pretty busy.”
He was quiet for a moment. “I never thought I’d see the day,” he finally murmured, sounding almost sad. “I always picture you with your nose in a book.”
I gulped. How often was he picturing me? And why?
“Rick!” Lucy called suddenly, and Rick let out a long gust of air before turning to her. She was pointing down toward the shoreline, where a few men were setting up surfboards around a blue and white tent. “Surf lessons!”
“Oh God,” Mary muttered. “Can’t you just sit still for two minutes?”
But Lucy seemed determined not to let it go. “I’ve always wanted to surf,” she pleaded. “Come with me, Rick. Please? You’ll be good at it, I know you will.”
“I know how to surf,” he said mildly. “But I’m definitely not that good at it.”
“Then this can be practice!” Lucy cried, bouncing on the sand. “Oh, come on, Rick! Please? Please!”
“Okay,” he said, laughing. He stood and dusted off his swim shorts. I looked away, hating the sight of him without his shirt on. I thought it had been bad to see him in his hiking gear, but shirtless was much, much worse. Every inch of his chest was tan and toned. What had happened to the skinny, gangly kid I had spent hours with on the beach?
“You want to come?” he asked, sounding hesitant.
“Nah.” I kept my eyes averted, pretending to be looking at something down the beach. “I think I might take a walk.”
I saw him pause at my feet, as if he wanted to say something else, but then Lucy was grabbing his arm, giggling, and pulling him toward the tent.
“Hang on!” Mary cried, crossing her arms. “Why didn’t you ask us?”
Lucy stopped in her tracks. “Uh, I didn’t think it was your thing.”
Mary glowered. “Why doesn’t anyone ever think I’m athletic? I was a cheerleader you know—on my college squad. Do you know how much athleticism is required to do a basket throw?”
Lucy scuffed the sand with her toes, clearly not wanting to ask Mary to join her.
“If you want to surf,” Charlie cut in, “why don’t you just go over there?”
She refocused her glare on him. “Are you coming?”
He sighed loudly. “If you want me to.”
As if buoyed by the addition of another couple, Etta jumped up. “I’m coming, too!”
I could tell Lucy was annoyed that her one-on-one time with Rick was being infringed upon. “Well, let’s get going then,” she muttered, sounding cross. “There’s already a line.”
I sat on my towel, watching as they all made their way across the beach. Of course, no one seemed to notice that I wasn’t coming. I pulled my knees into my chest, trying not to be bothered by that fact. Trying not to feel left out. It wasn’t like I wasn’t used to it.
I watched as they signed waivers and were assigned boards. For a half hour, they practiced on the sand, attempting to jump from a lying to a standing position. Lucy and Rick both got the hang of it fairly quickly, while Jim and Mary stumbled more times than not. When the instructors deemed Charlie, Lucy, and Rick ready to head out to the waves before the others, I could practically feel the irritation radiating off of Mary in waves.
Rick was the first to stand up on a wave. For all he had said about not being good, I could tell he had quite a bit of experience. I wondered where he had learned. Had he made it to Thailand, the way we had planned? Or had it been a more recent trip? Hawaii with a girlfriend?
Read your book, Annabelle, I told myself sternly. Stop thinking about what Rick did or didn’t do after that summer.
An hour later, Mary, Charlie, Jim, and Etta dragged themselves back to our blankets. They all looked waterlogged and exhausted, but pleased with themselves, nonetheless. “We all managed to stand up,” Charlie told me proudly. “Even Mary!”
“Where are…the others?” I asked.
Etta gestured back toward the water, looking resigned. “They paid for another hour.”
I squinted out to the waves. Sure enough, Lucy and Rick were out there with an instructor, both paddling out for another wave.
“See what I mean?” Charlie asked in a loud whisper. “Totally into each other.”
I tossed my book aside and stood, suddenly sick to death of thinking about Rick and Lucy. “I’m going for a walk.”
No one even acknowledged me, so I set off across the sand. I was at the ocean, for God’s sake. What the hell was I doing, spending so much time and energy thinking about an ex? I was going to get my feet into the waves and enjoy the ocean breeze before I had to go back to the stifling Vegas heat.
I walked until the group was barely a speck in the distance and plopped down into the sand at the tide line, letting the water wash over my toes. The distance made me feel better—less stressed, less overwhelmed. I could breathe over here, could think.
We were only days away from the initial pitch. Once we got back to Vegas, Jim and Rick were going to hole up and get the details of the presentation ironed out. I was fairly confident this step would be easy—the developers weren’t looking for a final bid—they just wanted to narrow the field before the final presentations in a few weeks. I was sure Emma’s networking would secure us a spot in the final round.
But would we make it farther than that? I closed my eyes, trying to keep the panic at bay. I could make a pretty educated guess which firms we would be going up against. We had outperformed several of them in various projects over the years, but a few others had a lot more experience when it came to hotels and resorts. We were going to need something special to stand out. And I wasn’t sure increased heating and cooling efficiency was going to do it.
I stood, stretching. I wished it would come to me, that missing piece that we needed. We had toured plenty of hotels, spas, restaurants, and clubs, looking for inspiration. We had been bouncing around ideas for weeks. So far, we seemed settled on a classic Vegas vibe, a mix of mid-century modern and sleek simplicity. All of the preliminary designs Rick and Jim had drawn up had looked good—really good. But I wasn’t convinced it was enough.
Knowing there was no way I was going to relax with the worries swirling around in my brain, I headed back toward the group. With any luck, they’d have had enough of the sun and sand, and we could just get to the airport. The sooner we got back to Vegas, the sooner we could get to work.
“That looks like a good one!” I heard a familiar voice shout. I squinted out to the waves to see that Lucy was much closer than I would have thought. “Rick, look!”
“Don’t Lucy!” he called. “It’s too big!”
“I can do it!”
“Lucy!” the instructor called. “You’re too close to the rocks!”
“I see them!“ she called back, paddling furiously to the waves. “I won’t hit them!”
“Lucy!” Rick’s voice sounded worried now, but Lucy remained unconcerned. I saw the smile on her face as she looked over her shoulder at the impending wave, the flash of excitement and self-assurance. Then the wave was cresting, she was jumping up, and the instructor was yelling. “No!”
It happened so fast, I could barely take it in. One minute, she was standing, her face a picture of triumph. Then the wave was crashing around her, too fast, and she was going down. Right before she hit the water, I saw the worry register on her face.
And then she was under.
I stood motionless on the beach, staring in growing horror at the spot she had disappeared, helpless.
She’ll come up, I told myself, trying to ignore the panic in my chest. In just a minute, I’ll see her head pop up…
Another wave crashed over the spot where she had disappeared, and then another. Rick and the instructor were paddling furiously trying to get there. Why had they let her get so far away? Why in the hell had she taken that wave? I heard shouts coming from up the beach and saw the panic on Rick’s face.
An
d still she didn’t surface.
I was running out into the water before I even realized what I was doing. All I could think about was getting to her, finding her. Rick had said something about rocks—what if she—
Then I saw her, her blonde head bobbing up in the water. She was face down. Fighting the urge to scream in panic, I pushed out into the water, forcing my way into the surf. Another wave pounded over her head, and she slipped from view again. “Lucy!” I screamed, hearing Rick do the same off to my right.
By some miracle, she appeared in front of me, only feet away. The last wave must have pushed her closer to shore. But I was in over my head now, and the constant pounding of the wave made it difficult to swim. Suddenly, Rick was there next to me, grabbing for Lucy. Together, we were able to get her turned over, and the sight of her face made my heart stop—she looked pale, unresponsive. And bright red blossomed out from a gash on her forehead, making a pool of blood around her head.
“Shit!” Rick cried, and somehow the panic in his voice calmed me.
“We have to get her into shore,” I yelled. “Help me!”
We managed to pull her limp body the few feet before Rick was able to touch bottom. By then, the instructor had joined us, and the three of us dragged her through the surf to the shoreline, Jim and Charlie running out to meet us.
“We need to lay her down,” the instructor was saying, his face white. I looked up and locked eyes with Etta—the terror in her face reflecting mine. Mary was screaming, an endless, wordless shriek.
“There’s so much blood,” Rick whispered as we laid her flat on her back. “Dear God.”
“Head wounds always look worse than they are,” I told him firmly. “They bleed a lot.”
The instructor was tilting her head back, checking her breathing. The set look on his face confirmed my fears. She wasn’t breathing.
“Call 911!” Rick yelled, looking around the gathering crowd wildly. “Who has a phone? Someone—”
“Jim!” My voice was sharp but steady. I was trying to remember the last first-aid class I had taken, when I was getting certified for a particularly difficult climb. Assign a specific individual to call 911, the instructor had told us. Otherwise, there will be confusion and you’ll waste time. “Jim, call 911.”
He nodded, wide-eyed, turning to run back up the beach to our abandoned blanket for his phone. Before he could take more than a step, a stranger was pressing a phone into his hand, and I said a silent prayer of thanks that precious minutes had been saved.
The instructor was starting CPR. Holy shit.
“Give us room!” I yelled to the gathering crowd. “Charlie, get these people moved back.”
The instructor had barely managed three compressions before Lucy was suddenly coughing, a gurgle of water shooting from her lips.
“Oh, thank God,” I murmured, as I reached to turn her on her side so she could cough up the water. Still her eyes remained closed.
“Why isn’t she opening her eyes?” Rick asked, his voice high pitched.
“She’s breathing,” I told him, cradling her head in my hands. “That’s the important thing.”
He nodded, his eyes still wild.
“Is she alive?” Mary cried, sounding hysterical. I met Charlie’s gaze, and it made my stomach drop. I’d never before seen him so terrified, so pale. And his wife’s hysterics probably weren’t helping.
“Mary,” I called sharply. “Go up to the street so you can tell the EMTs where we are.”
She stared at me blankly, tears running down her cheeks. “This is very important, Mary, please. Can you manage?”
She nodded, wiping her eyes. “Etta, go with her, okay?”
“We need pressure on the wound,” the instructor was saying. “Does someone have—”
“Etta, give me your sarong,” I called before she could get more than a few feet away. She ran back to us, pulling it off, and I handed it to the instructor, who pushed it firmly against Lucy’s head.
“She must have hit the rocks,” he murmured.
“Why didn’t she listen to us?” Rick cried. His hands were hovering over her face, clearly at a loss for what to do. “This is all my fault. Damn it!”
“Stop it,” I commanded, meeting his eyes. I held his gaze, trying to look stronger than I felt. “That’s not helping.”
“What can I do?” There was a pleading in his voice that made my heart clench. He sounded so young, suddenly.
“You could take over here,” the instructor said, showing Rick how much pressure to apply before leaving him to it. He moved down Lucy’s body, checking her arms and legs for additional injuries, listening to her breath.
“Your hands are shaking,” I told Rick, placing one of mine over his to steady him.
The moment our hands touched, he looked up at me, his eyes wide and panicked. “Is she going to be all right?”
“Just take deep breaths.” It was crazy how calm my voice sounded. I wanted to scream, wanted to throw up, actually. The blood from my assistant’s head wound was steadily staining the baby blue sarong. Who knew how long she had been without oxygen and—
Stop, I ordered myself. You can’t lose control, not now.
“Just take deep breaths,” I told Rick, following my own advice. “She’s breathing on her own. That’s the most important thing.”
He closed his eyes, taking a few deeps breaths, before looking back down at Lucy.
Even in the midst of the horror of the moment, the look on his face still managed to send my heart plummeting in my chest. His gaze was so tender, so concerned, it left little doubt in my mind what he was feeling. I’d seen that look on his face before—it was the way he used to look at me.
“Good,” I told him softly, trying to tamp down my own selfish reaction. “Calm. Just like that.” A noise registered in my ears, and I sighed in relief. “You hear that? Sirens.”
“Thank God,” Rick muttered, his gaze never leaving Lucy’s face.
The ambulance pulled up right on the beach beside us, the medics moving incredibly fast. They had her on a stretcher within minutes, one of them gently moving Rick aside so he could inspect the wound.
“Looks worse than it is,” he muttered.
“See?” I told Rick. “What’d I tell you?”
“How long was she under?” the other asked, opening her eyes and shining a light at her pupils.
“Maybe thirty seconds,” the instructor told him. Thirty seconds? It had felt like a lifetime to me.
“How long did you do CPR?”
“I only got a few compressions in.”
“So maybe without oxygen for a minute and a half?” the medic surmised.
“A minute and a half,” the instructor agreed. “Maybe two.”
Two minutes without oxygen. How bad was that? I couldn’t remember, couldn’t think straight. Now that help was here, the panic I had held at bay was fast returning, making me feel dizzy. “Let’s get her in,” the medic was saying.
“I’m coming with you,” Charlie said. “I’m her brother.”
“You can’t leave me!” Mary cried. “Charlie, you can’t!”
“I’ll go,” Rick said. “I’ll stay with her, Charlie, don’t worry.”
“Whoever is coming, we’re going now.”
Jim appeared at Rick’s side, handing him his shirt. “We’ll meet you there, buddy.”
They loaded Lucy up into the ambulance, Rick climbing in behind her. Just before the doors closed, his eyes met mine. He looked more in control now, a little less wild and panicked. “Thank you,” he mouthed, his eyes steady on mine. Then the doors closed, the siren started up again, and the ambulance was heading back up the beach toward the street, leaving the rest of us standing there, completely stunned.
***
The rest of us scrambled into the limo, wet and bedraggled, silent with shock and worry—save for the loud, gasping sobs of Mary.
“She’s going to be okay,” I told Etta bracingly as she wiped silent tears from
her face. “She’s getting excellent care. Rick will make sure of it.”
“There was so much blood,” she whispered, closing her eyes. I saw Charlie’s face tighten behind her and reached for his hand.
“We’ll be there in a minute, Charlie,” I told him.
“Should I call my parents?” he asked, sounding stunned, as if he couldn’t quite believe any of this was real.
“Let’s wait until we get to the hospital,” I suggested. “They’ll panic if we can’t give them any information.”
He nodded, and I squeezed his hand, trying to impart as much comfort into the gesture as I could. Just before I let go, I felt him squeeze back weakly.
At the hospital, the others immediately scrambled out of the limo. I hung back, asking the driver to open the trunk where the luggage was being held. We’d been planning to head straight to the airport after the beach outing. Feeling numb, I pulled clothes from each bag, shirts and shorts and whatever underwear I could find. “At least they’ll be dry,” I muttered to myself, shoving garments into my beach bag to bring inside.
I found the others in the ER waiting room, crowded around Rick. “They wouldn’t let me go back,” he was explaining. “They haven’t told me anything.”
I began handing out the clothes. “Here, Etta,” I said. “Jim. Charlie, take this. Go and change—you’ll feel better.”
Charlie looked down at his clothes, as if surprised to see that he was in a soaking wet bathing suit. “Thanks, Annabelle.”
I pressed Rick’s clothes into his hands, meeting his eyes. “Thank you,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. When I started to move on, he closed his hand over mine, just a second of contact. “For everything. I don’t know what I would have done without you.”
“It’s no problem, Rick. She’s… She’s a very dear friend.” I heard the catch in my voice and ducked my head, not wanting to cry.
“You were so calm,” he went on, his voice low. “I was ready to panic, Annabelle. You kept us all together. I… I don’t want to think about what would have happened if you hadn’t been there.”
“The surf instructor knew what he was doing—”
“I mean it, Annabelle.” As if of their own violation, my eyes moved up to his face. He was gazing down at me, his gaze intense and dark. “Thank you.”
Persuaded Page 18
