Adversaries and Lovers

by Patricia Watters

  She was about to kick off the bottom when there was a rush of bubbles, and a strong arm encircled her waist, dragging her upward. The shock of it made her ingest water, and when they reached the surface and Ben lunged out of the pool with her tight against him, she started coughing and couldn’t stop. Cradling her in his arms, he kept saying over and over, “It’s alright now, honey. You’re okay. Just relax. That’s right. Cough it up, sweetheart.”

  For the moment, all Kate wanted was to be held in Ben's arms while he mumbled endearing platitudes. But when she’d finally stopped coughing, he was angry. “What the hell we’re you doing in the deep end of the pool if you can’t swim? You almost drowned!”

  Kate pushed out of his arms, and said, “I can swim! I didn’t start to drown until you grabbed me!” Rising to her feet, she marched toward the opposite end of the pool, the swim fins flopping against the concrete deck with each quick step.

  “I grabbed you because I thought you were drowning!” Ben shouted after her.

  Kate glanced over her shoulder, and shouted back, “And I’m the one who’s supposed to be too emotional?! Hah!”

  Ben caught up with her, took her arm and turned her around to face him. When she looked at him in the mauve twilight of the enclosure she realized he was no longer angry. Instead, she saw concern in his eyes and lines of worry between his brows. “Maybe I did overreact,” he admitted, “but when I thought I'd lost—" he stopped.

  When he said nothing more, Kate's anger began to fade, replaced by puzzlement. "When you thought you'd lost what?" she asked.

  He stared at her for a few moments, then said, "Nothing. It was just a reaction."

  Whatever he'd been about to say when he cut off his sentence, it wouldn't be now, nor would she press him for it. Before their heated kiss he’d been unshakable in his self control, impregnable as a fortress. But with this incident she’d come close to finding the chink in his armor. Although his behavior was disturbing, she hoped she could penetrate that armor before the zoning meeting. He released her arm. “We're done here," he said. "Let’s go back to my office and talk about marketing ideas.”

  Kate said nothing. All she wanted was to be away from the pool and Ben's disturbing presence. In the elevator on the way down, Kate kept her eyes focused on the door directly in front of her, not wanting to look up and find Ben staring at her, but she knew he was, and she could not begin to analyze his behavior, but she found it both disturbing and arousing.

  After changing back into her clothes, she met Ben in the conference room. He was all business again, calling in one of his employees to pitch ideas about the AirFlo motorcycle helmet ad campaign. Which surprised Kate. She'd expected to discuss swim fin ideas. The meeting ended when Ben dismissed Kate with the words, “See what you can work up on the swim fins and we’ll meet here a week from today.” He opened the door for her to leave.

  And she realized then that all hopes she had of changing his mindset about the building site were dead. Their only option now was to try to stop the zoning change.

  ***

  To Kate's surprise, the day of their scheduled meeting at Ben’s office, Ben called to say that he’d be coming for her the following Sunday instead of meeting at his office because he wanted to show her a location where they might be shooting some ads. She’d been so shocked to hear his voice that she’d neglected to ask if he’d be arriving on his motorcycle or in his truck. In any event, she wouldn't be caught in a skirt.

  With numerous ad mockups for the swim fins propped around the room, she stood back and studied the illustrations, wondering what Ben’s reaction would be. He'd liked her AirFlo ideas, but that didn’t mean he’d like what she’d put together for the fins: a sequence of a man and a woman wearing the peculiar-shaped fins, whirling and spiraling in the underwater dance of love she'd imagined. She wished she'd had other ideas to offer him, but this was all she could come up with. Nothing else seemed to work. She picked up one of the drawings, and as she stared at the two figures swimming back to front as she and Ben had done, she could almost feel Ben's arm around her, drawing her close as they glided through the water...

  “That looks like the cover of a racy book,” Grandma said, peering over Kate's shoulder. “What’s being advertised anyway?”

  Kate gave a nervous little chuckle. “Swim fins.”

  “Well, that’s not what catches the eye,” Grandma said. “That woman looks like she’s wearing that skimpy green thing you have hanging in the bathroom.”

  “Yes... well... I guess that’s where I got the idea.”

  “Is Henry’s grandson coming around here anymore?”

  Kate eyed Grandma with curiosity. It was the first time she’d referred to Henry by his first name, and without prefacing it with derogatory adjectives.

  “Don’t stand there staring at me like that," Grandma groused. "I asked you a question. You gonna see Henry’s grandson again?”

  Kate shrugged. “He's my boss, of sorts.”

  Grandma’s eyes sharpened like a hawk. “He also means to see a block of fine old buildings leveled and the lot of us out on the street, and don’t you forget it. You shouldn’t be giving him the time of day much less your work. If he’s anything like his grandfather you’d better not hold him to his word because a Stassen’s word means nothing.”

  “I’m only doing the ads in order to try and change his mind about the whole zoning issue," Kate said in defense. "If it wasn’t for that, I’d have nothing to do with the man." But she knew that was a barefaced lie. The fact was, she wanted to do the ads for the pure and simple reason that she wanted to be with Ben, wanted to penetrate that unsentimental exterior and learn the reason behind it, wanted to explore his hideaway and discover more of his eclectic whimsical artworks, wanted to be held in his arms with their lips pressed together in a passionate kiss...

  “So when’s he coming?”

  Completely lost in thought, Kate stared at Grandma, as images of entwined bodies and heated kisses began to fade.

  “There you go giving me that blank-eyed look again," Grandma said. "I asked you when Henry’s grandson was coming.”

  Kate blinked several times and started gathering drawings. “His name is Ben, and I was sort of expecting him... any minute." As she said the words, a vehicle ground to a halt outside. Kate glanced toward the front door. Please, just let it be a normal car... But when she looked out the window she was totally unprepared for what she found parked out front—a Jeep pulling a boat with the words Misty Gayle scrawled along its bow.

  Grandma peered over her shoulder. “And this is supposed to be some kind of business meeting? I’d like to know what kind of business he’s conducting. Seems the only thing he has time for is playing with oversized toys and throwing old folks out on the streets. Well, he’s not welcome in this house." She untied her apron, slapped it on the table and stalked out of the room.

  Kate studied the sleek boat with its overhead canopy. At least it was entirely open. Having hedonistic fantasies about being with Ben was one thing. Finding herself in a cozy little stateroom below deck with him was quite another.

  Ben climbed out of the Jeep, and Kate backed away from the window to where she could watch him walking toward the house without being seen. Dressed in a black tank top and denims cut off at the knees, and wearing blue flip-flops, it was obvious he intended to conduct business on the boat. However, with Grandma in such a surly mood, Kate had no intention of letting Ben in the house. Without waiting for him to knock, she opened the front door slightly, poked her head out, and said, “I’ll be right there,” then shut the door.

  As she was packing her drawings into her portfolio, light streamed across the room. She looked up to find Ben standing in the doorway, eyes fixed on her. Miffed that he'd let himself in, and uncertain how she should act towards him after his less-than-friendly dismissal of her the week before, she said, “I see you’ve come with another oversized toy." She glanced at the closed door to Grandma’s bedroom, realizing she was beginni
ng to sound like her. But this time Grandma was right.

  “Life’s too short to take seriously,” he said. He wasn’t smiling, nor had his words been said in jest, and she sensed that there was some deeper meaning to them.

  But she refused to dwell on it now. “Well, I hope you’ll take my ideas for the swim fin promotion seriously,” she said.

  “I will," Ben replied. "And bring your Sealskin."

  Kate looked at him with a start. Surely he didn’t intend a repeat of their session in the pool. “I won't need it," she said, "because I have no intention of swimming with you again.”

  “Suit yourself." Ben scanned the length of her. "But you might want to change into something cool like shorts and a tank top. It's already hot as hell out, and it's pretty casual where we're going.”

  Kate eyed him with curiosity. “Where, exactly, are we going?”

  “A place called Coopers Landing.”

  ”What’s at Cooper’s Landing?” she asked.

  “You’ll find out when we get there.”

  After packing a duffle bag with a small towel, a hair brush, and some cosmetics, she changed into a pair of cut-off jeans and grabbed the only top she could find that was both cool and clean, which coincidentally was black, like Ben's, but a very snug fit. Eyeing it critically, she started to toss it aside and find something more modest, then deciding there was nothing immodest about a top that covered her completely, she tugged it over her head and started down the hallway. On a whim, she snatched the Sealskin suit off the hook on the door of the bathroom and stuffed it into her bag. Later, she’d worry about the ramification of her impulsive act.

  During the drive to Cooper’s Landing, Ben was in good spirits, whistling along with the radio as they drove, which puzzled Kate. She didn’t know what to make of the man. During the short time she’d known him he’d ranged from being a cocky, hot-shot, motorcycle buff in black leather, to a brawny tennis jock, to an Olympic-quality swimmer, to a skilled craftsman who cared nothing about the home or works of art he’d created. Then there were those fleeting moments when his mask would slip away, revealing a troubled man she couldn't reach.

  The man he was today seemed to delight in withholding information about the town of Cooper’s Landing. All she could get from him was that because a bridge was being repaired, the town was only accessible by boat, which served to arouse her curiosity even more. “Should I have packed a lunch or will we eat there?” she asked, wondering if the town was large enough to support a restaurant. Cooper’s Landing couldn’t be very big. She’d never heard of it.

  Ben ceased his whistling to reply, “We’ll eat there--lobster tails dipped in truffle butter, sautéed mushrooms, rice pilaf. You do like lobster, don’t you?”

  Kate nodded. “I think I’ll like Cooper’s Landing,” she mused, imagining them eating at a cozy little pub where they served fine wines and lobster tails drenched in truffle butter...

  ...and this is supposed to be some kind of business meeting? I’d like to know what kind of business he’s conducting... Grandma’s words seemed uncomfortably on target.

  She looked at Ben, who continued whistling while tapping his fingers in rhythm on the steering wheel. He’d said nothing about the swim fin promotion, and she wondered when he planned to review her mock-ups, if, in fact, he intended to do so at all. She had not anticipated this to be a date, only a time to pitch her swim fin ideas, while also using the occasion to soften him up so he might consider building the corporate office somewhere other than Sellwood. But it was becoming increasing clear that business was not on his mind.

  Of the various facets of Ben Stassen, there was yet one she hadn't dwelled at length on: the rake with the cozy hideaway. Knowing her vulnerability where Ben was concerned, that was the facet that disturbed her most at the moment.

  Looking over at him, she said, with irony, “Between boating down the river, eating lobster, and who knows what else you have planned for this little business excursion, will you find time to review my swim fin ideas? Somehow I get the feeling it’s not on the agenda for today.”

  Ben gave her a one-sided smile. “We’ll get to it later. Right now I want to know all about Katherine O’Connor.”

  “Why?" His jargon smacked of a male come-on.

  Ben glanced at her, a tomcat-on-the-prowl look in his eyes, and said, “So I can decide whether it will be safe to jump her beautiful body when the time's right.”

  Kate looked at him, miffed. He wasn’t even trying to be subtle about his intentions. He’d clearly misrepresented his reason for their meeting, and she’d been incredibly naive to go along with him without asking questions. “I’ve changed my mind about all of this,” she said. “I want you to take me home.”

  “What happened to the plucky, gutsy woman who crashed the reception?”

  “That was a mistake. I’m not like that. Now, please take me home.”

  Ben patted her hand, and said in a sober voice, “Relax, Katie. I have no intention of seducing you. I just want to know a little more about you, that’s all. And we will get to your swim fin ideas. I give you my word.”

  ...if he’s anything like his grandfather, you’d better not hold him to his word because a Stassen’s word means nothing...

  Grandma was back, and there could be something to what she’d said. But Ben was not his grandfather, and his words sounded so sincere she wanted to believe him. So she’d give him the benefit of doubt, for now. “What do you want to know about me?” she asked.

  “Everything you omitted on your resume.”

  “I didn’t give you a resume.”

  “I know. So I guess you’ll have to start from the beginning.”

  “It’s pretty boring.”

  “I’ll be the judge.”

  Kate drew in a long sigh, and said, “I hope you don't fall asleep at the wheel, but here goes. Well, Katherine O’Connor was born on…"

  She rambled on about her carefree childhood, happy years in grade school, loving parents—touching briefly on the accident that killed them—and life with Grandma, using that as an opening to broach the subject of the zoning change...

  “...and after Grandpa died five years ago, Grandma’s just been trying to keep her little house up and her memories intact.” She rolled her head against the headrest to look at Ben. “It’s hard for old people to hold onto memories if they’re taken away from familiar surroundings. But, of course, Grandma’s surrounded by all of her lifelong friends. They’re back and fourth between each other’s houses every day so she’s happy... for now.” She paused to let that sink in.

  He smiled. “Nice try.”

  She sat up straight, glared at him, and said in an agitated voice, “Is there nothing I can say or do to get through to you?”

  Eyes fixed on the road ahead, he replied, “Your grandmother shouldn’t stay trapped in the past. She needs to get on with her life.”

  “The past is her life," Kate said. "And living in a house she loves while surrounded by friends who care about her is hardly being trapped.” She looked out the side window and mumbled, “But, I don’t suppose you could possibly relate to that concept, being the logical, reasoning, unemotional man you are.”

  Ignoring her rebuke, Ben said, “After my grandmother died, my grandfather sold the old place, bought himself a little farm and started a small winery. He is getting on with his life, not living in the past.”

  Kate folded her arms, stared straight ahead, and said, “And I see that you’re just a chip off the old block. No attachments, no regrets, no... nothing.”

  For several miles neither spoke. Ben’s eyes remained fixed on the road, and Kate stared blankly out the side window. It wasn’t until they turned off the paved road, slowed to a crawl, and the jeep began to rock over the uneven road that Kate realized they were on the lane leading to Ben’s house, although they’d approached it from the opposite direction. The fact that they were at his place again made her edgy. She couldn’t shake images of their passionate kiss, or their i
ntimate physical contact as they’d glided around the pool. Nor had she given him reason to believe his advances were unwanted. In fact, he had every reason to believe she was ready for an afternoon of rolling around with him on the futon. Unless she set things straight. “Let me guess," she said. "The spider has prepared his futon with plump little pillows for an afternoon of lovemaking, and his victim, naive little fly that she is, has willingly come with him to his parlor. Again." She glared at him. “You really are too much.”

  Ben covered her hand with his and gave it a little squeeze. “There you go, acting on emotion again, jumping to the wrong conclusion.”

  “Have I? I thought we were going to Cooper’s Landing?” Kate said, pulling her hand out from under his.

  “We are,” Ben said, bemused. “This is where we launch the boat.”

  Kate looked at him, miffed. “You came all the way from here pulling a boat, just to pick me up so we could come back here to launch it? That sounds a little specious.”

  “The boat needed some engine work. I’m just bringing her home. Satisfied?” As Ben said the words, they drove past his house and continued down the lane toward the river.

  Kate gave him a sheepish grin. “I am now.” After a few moments she commented, offhandedly, “The name, Misty Gayle... it sounds kind of sad, like tears. Did you come up with it, or was the boat already named?”

  When Ben didn’t reply, Kate looked at him and realized he’d lapsed into brooding silence, eyes staring off, and she wondered what had so completely captured his attention. One moment he’d been teasing, the next his face looked cheerless. And it happened when she'd asked about the Misty Gayle. He also hadn't answered her question, and from the look on his face, she suspected the subject would be closed, even if she pressed him for an answer.