by Dawn Atkins
She'd promised to be available for questions and given him another card. Soon she'd be printing up new ones with her new office address and phone, as well as the number for the cell phone she felt rich enough to activate again.
To further stoke her enthusiasm, she'd cruised by her new office and gotten the weary leasing agent to show her the space again. She envisioned how it would look. A seascape here. Brass coat hanger there. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves on this wall. Maybe a small fountain in that corner… No, no. A fish tank—saltwater. Yeah.
After that, she'd checked out the business possibilities she'd found for Jake. The charter boat companies had sounded flaky on the phone, and the surf shop was too commercial for him. The sailing store would be too much, she saw right away, but the owner had a brother with a scuba shop who wanted to ease into retirement The guy would probably let Jake buy in and take over gradually. She'd arranged a meeting between the guy and Jake for tomorrow afternoon and she couldn't wait to tell him.
Jake was applying primer to the front of the beach house when she returned. He was off the ladder in an instant, pulling her into his arms.
She didn't even care about the paint that might get on her suit. "I have great news," she told him.
"You can tell me in bed. I listen so much better when you're naked." He pulled her by the hand.
"But I have work to do," she said, stumbling over the threshold, laughter bubbling to her lips. Work, schmerk. She'd never felt this utterly wanted before.
"All work and no play makes Ariel a nervous wreck," Jake said, turning to unbutton her jacket.
"All play and no work makes Ariel lose clients," she said, tugging his T-shirt over his head.
"But more play and less work got you clients," he said, starting on her blouse buttons. "I lined up a special dive tomorrow. A friend's taking a boat out to the Point Loma kelp beds—as great as the offshore islands. The most incredible forest of towering kelp, terrific reefs. You won't believe it."
"I can't, Jake. I have some follow-up for AutoWerks."
"Can't you do it later?"
"It's for tomorrow. Plus, I—"
His kiss stopped her words and her mind went blank, except for what his fingers were doing to her through her underwear. Oh. My. Goodness.
The scuba shop floated into her awareness and she managed to break off the kiss long enough to say, "I have news for you, too."
"You're about to come. That's not news," he said, sliding his fingers to the spot that drove her mad.
"No, no." She pulled away and told him about the scuba shop and the meeting she'd scheduled for him at four.
"I'm not interested in owning a business, Ariel." He sounded exasperated, but only momentarily. He reached for her again, snapped her bra off in quick moves, then cupped her breasts.
"But you'll like this guy," she gasped out. His hands felt so good on her skin. "He reminds me of Brice and he has a great idea for a scuba club—a connection with a … a … a…" He was doing something amazing with his tongue on her nipple. "…tourist agency so you could arrange trips to Mexico to d-d-ive."
"You're relentless, you know?" he said, lifting his face from her breasts. "If I weren't so hot, I'd be pissed."
"Relentlessness is one of my most endearing traits," she said, feeling faint.
"In bed maybe…" He paused, caught by her expression. Behind the lust was her hope for him and he must have seen that. "Okay. We can make it back from the dive before four, I guess."
"Terrific," she said and put her arms around him.
"Of course I'd say anything to get into your pants right now," he said, shoving her skirt and everything underneath to the floor.
"Mmm," she said, pushing down his trunks. "But I still have to finish my report. I don't see how we can dive, too."
"Do it later tonight. You won't believe how gorgeous this spot is. It's like an undersea hanging garden, with an incredible menagerie. Electric rays, huge fish, groupers as big as my Beetle."
"Really?"
"Really," he said, his hand sliding down her back to hold her bottom tightly against him, rubbing himself against her softest spot. Good sense began to fade.
"I can probably do the work in two hours," she said, "but we have to drop it at AutoWerks before we go."
"E-mail it tonight." He lifted her up and pushed into her with one quick thrust.
Oh. My. Goodness. E-mail, Morse Code, smoke signals. She didn't care how she got it to him. Right now nothing mattered except the exquisite pleasure of Jake inside her, pushing deeper, striving for completion. Somehow they made their way to the bedroom and Jake found a condom just in time.
* * *
Bleary-eyed, Ariel checked her messages at a pay phone at the San Diego dock before they headed off to the dive. She must be losing her mind. She'd dragged herself from a sleeping Jake at 2:00 a.m. to put the finishing touches on her report and e-mail it to Myron. She'd had a terrible time concentrating. And it wasn't even Jake's fault. She couldn't stop thinking about his hands and mouth and what they'd done to her. She'd become obsessed.
I have to get some balance, she thought, hanging up the phone with a sigh. Her head felt plugged with cotton. Jake beamed at her—he was delighted that he'd altered her ways—but his face was filled with so much love that she couldn't even be irritated at his assumption that this was good for her.
They boarded the dive boat and roared toward Point Loma. Ariel went below to use the head and when she climbed back on deck, she heard Jake talking with Dave, the owner of the boat. Dave said something about Miami, and Jake answered, "Yeah, I was thinking of moving out to there. Warm water would be great. A lot of charters run out of the Bahamas."
"There's plenty to do," Dave said. "My cousin works whenever he wants to."
Jake nodded. He was considering the idea, she could tell, and her heart lurched. He wanted to move to Florida?
"What's up?" she asked, moving close to him.
"Nothing, just shooting the breeze."
Dave went to the back of the boat to arrange the gear. As soon as he was out of earshot, she said, "You're moving to Florida?"
"It's just talk." He hugged her. "We're together now. I'm not going anywhere."
Just yet. She could hear it in his voice, see it in his face and felt queasy.
They got busy preparing to dive and the excitement of it distracted her from her worries about Jake and AutoWerks and her imbalanced life. And once she was underwater, it was easy to focus on the wonder of what she was seeing. She loved holding Jake's hand and looking upward through the giant, gently swaying kelp trees, the high coral hills, to the light shimmering above them. It was like being in some fairy-tale forest, almost a holy place. A giant fish swam lazily among the kelp, taking all this beauty for granted. She looked at Jake, who was looking at her. What an amazing thing to share.
When they reached the surface, the crew had news—some gray whales had surfaced not far away.
"You'll love this," Jake said. "You won't believe how big and beautiful they are."
"But we need to get back," she said, checking the time on his diver's watch.
"We'll make it, don't worry," he said.
It hardly mattered, since Dave had turned the boat away from shore and roared off. She worried as they skimmed the water, but Jake kept squeezing her hand. It'll be all right.
The whales were awe-inspiring. Diving, surfacing, spouting and rolling with majestic grace, as if putting on a show for them. She spotted a baby swimming close to its mother. "Look!" she pointed for Jake's benefit.
Jake looked and smiled. "Cool."
"Cool? It's amazing," Ariel said and Jake realized he could look into Ariel's wide, eager eyes for a long, long time. She was interested in everything, too, once you got her attention. He couldn't wait to teach her to surf.
She was loosening up day by day. It would take just a little time and she'd forget about trying to push him into things like this stupid business idea she had. If he felt aimless, which he di
d from time to time, he'd volunteer somewhere—become a Big Brother or something.
Ariel would stop hassling him, once she really eased up. And he had to admit a little organization made him feel better. He didn't spend nearly so much time hunting down his keys or missing classes as he used to. Clean dishes and utensils in predictable places made cooking a hell of a lot more fun, too.
When she put her small hand in his he felt the power of her trust and he never wanted to let her down. Ever.
What was she saying now? Something more about the calf's expression… He looked into her flashing eyes and laughing mouth and the lust for her rose in him again.
"They're quite intelligent, you know," Ariel said, then caught herself. She'd been babbling on and on, describing something Jake had been standing right beside her watching. "I'm sorry to carry on so much."
"I like it when you get excited … in every way," he said and he kissed her, soft and slow. "You taste salty. If these guys weren't on deck I'd strip you down and lick every inch of salt off you."
She shivered with the thrill of it. She could feel Jake's erection against her stomach through the Neoprene. She couldn't wait to get home and get them both out of these suits and—
Hold it! Jake had an appointment at the scuba shop at four o'clock. "What time is it?" She grabbed Jake's wrist and read the time. "It's already two. We won't make it to the shop by four."
"Another day." He shrugged.
"I scheduled the meeting. We have to call. Dave, do you have a cell phone we can borrow?"
"Battery's gone," Dave said. "Is there a problem?"
"No," Jake said.
"Yes," Ariel argued.
"Relax. We'll call him when we get to the marina."
"Can't we use your radio?" Ariel asked Dave. "Forget it," Jake said, waving Dave off. "That's for emergencies," he told her, frowning. "Just relax."
"I can't relax. We have an appointment."
"So we'll make another one. Would you trade seeing that baby whale with its mother for a business meeting?"
"We could have had both."
He made an impatient noise, shrugged, and looked out to sea. Why did he blow off anything he didn't feel like doing? So childish. And now he was acting hurt. It was all well and good to enjoy life, but you had to be responsible, too.
As soon as they hit the slip, Ariel bounded off the deck and hurried down the pier to the pay phone. It was already four-thirty. The shop owner, who'd given up a golf game to wait for Jake, was miffed, but polite. "Let me put Jake on the phone and you can set another meeting."
To her irritation, Jake took the guy's number and told him he'd call later, then ended the call.
"What do you mean you'll call him later? Go out there tomorrow, for heaven's sake."
"If this is supposed to work out, it will."
"But…" She looked into his face. It wore that no trespassing expression she'd seen when he'd looked at Heather way back when. "You don't even want to meet the guy, do you?"
"I told you I would," he said.
"But you don't want to."
"I like my life the way it is, Ariel."
"Then why did you say you'd go? Don't answer that." I'd do anything to get in your pants. She'd thought it was a joke.
"Look, Ariel…" he said.
"Forget it. I've got to check messages." She turned to the phone, wanting to hide her disappointment.
"Wait until we get home, would you?"
"No," she snapped. "I've waited long enough." She'd had enough of Jake twisting her arm to act against her instincts. There were four messages. Her heart began to pound as Myron Becker's voice came on. Uh, Ariel, had a couple questions on your marketing numbers. Looks like a page or two is missing. I'll be at this number for another hour. Call me.
He'd called at 8:00 a.m. Oh, God. The next message was at nine-thirty. Still waiting on the missing pages. And I wanted to ask you about the short-term priorities piece. We're thinking of a slight shift and don't know how that will play out. Call me. By noon. Use my cell. He left the number.
Ariel began to feel sick. The third message, at twelve-thirty, was tinged with anger and ended with the fact he was leaving at five-thirty for New York and he expected to hear from her before then.
The last call came from the airport. This is unacceptable. I need you to be available. My managers weren't keen on hiring a consultant in the first place. I'll pay you for your preliminary plan, but I don't think this will work out.
Ariel hung up the phone without deleting the message.
"What's wrong?" Jake said.
"Becker's been trying to reach me all day. Two pages of the report were missing and he had questions. I wasn't there. Now he doesn't want to work with me."
"Come on. He fired you over a few-hour delay?"
"I told him I'd be available. Absolutely. I told him absolutely. And I just disappeared. Even if I'd gotten back to him, I would have needed my computer to answer his questions. I completely screwed up."
She felt sick and dizzy and angry—at Jake for being so cavalier about her work and at herself for letting him sway her. "I should never have gone. I knew it. It was irresponsible."
"Come on. You're allowed to have some fun."
"Some fun, yeah. But not 24/7, like you seem to do. How could I have been so stupid?"
"Why would you want to work for a guy who'd cut you off over one misunderstanding?"
"For every reason in the world. Because he's an important man. Because I was counting on his retainer. Because I need his referrals. This is a new relationship. Everything counts when it's new. He wasn't sure about me. I was proving myself."
"So call the guy back. Tell him it was my fault. Or let me tell him."
"You've done enough," she snapped, then spoke more calmly. "I'll handle it. It's my mistake. I'll call ahead to New York and leave a message."
If Becker didn't take her back, she'd have to give up her office. Lose the deposit. She'd known better than to jump on that office so soon. Don't spend what you don't have. There's no such thing as a sure thing. She knew all those truths—had learned them from her mother and lived by them—but she'd fallen in love with Jake Renner and started acting on impulse without even realizing it. Keep your priorities straight, her mother had warned her. She'd been so right. Ariel had let herself lose focus. Is this like with Grayson? her mother had asked. Yes, it was, she saw now. She'd figuratively run away with Jake, just as she'd nearly literally done with Grayson.
"It'll work out," Jake said.
"Don't give me that," she said, her anger flaring, her good sense snapping back into place with a hard click. "Things work out when I work at them, not when I let them just happen. I don't float through life like you, Jake. I work for success."
His eyes went cold. "So let's get you back to it then."
They didn't speak on the drive home. Ariel kept wanting to say something to fix it, but she couldn't figure how. It was completely wrong.
She looked at Jake. A muscle ticked in his jaw. He didn't understand her. She'd been kidding herself thinking they could work things out, that love would find a way.
She should have stuck with her checklist—her whole checklist. She knew what kind of man she needed—a kind, hard-working, responsible, loving partner who wanted the same things she did, who would strive for them with her—not an arrogant, stubborn, overgrown adolescent who elevated play into some kind of religion as an excuse to be irresponsible.
When they got to the house, Ariel left a message for Myron on his New York voicemail.
Then she e-mailed him the missing pages of the report and tried to script out what she'd say about her unacceptable and uncharacteristic behavior when she finally got him on the phone.
She blocked out her awareness that Jake was moving around her, chewed madly on her lip and focused on what she had to do. How had she forgotten what was important? How had she let this thing with Jake wash away her good sense, her focus, her goals? Her mother had been so right to warn
her. She'd let her impulsive side—thank you, Dad—take over and disaster had struck.
She was startled when Jake appeared at her side and set before her a complex salad topped with avocado, sunflower seeds, mandarin oranges, crumbled bacon and blue cheese.
"Thank you," she said, looking up at him.
"Figured you needed food," he said.
"I'm sorry I got so angry," she said. "I was just shocked and this account means so much to me."
"You can fix it. If that's what you really want."
"Everything depends on this—my business, my future. Hell, even my office—that's out the window if I lose AutoWerks. I loved that building. It was perfect. Now I might lose it."
"You don't need another office. The sunporch will be great. If we extended the foundation, you'd have more space."
"The sunporch has no windows, Jake," she snapped, "in case you haven't noticed. You ripped out the screens and there's no Plexiglas in sight. I need a real office, not a sand trap."
"You'd rather fight city smog and traffic than work on the beach?"
"Cities are where business is supposed to be, Jake."
"That's your whole problem. You throw away what you have for how things are supposed to be. Look what's right outside your window." He rolled her task chair away from her desk in the corner and into the middle of the living room so she was looking out the front window. "You don't even let yourself enjoy the scenery while you work."
"I have to concentrate. The beach is … distracting."
"Exactly. Pleasure and beauty are just distractions to you. Look out there—sun and sand and waves and people—all those wonderful things and you hide away in the corner, burying yourself in work."
"That's not fair. I enjoy things when the time is right."
"Everything can't be timed. Take us. You think we're bad timing, right? That I'm just another distraction. Something that keeps you from almighty work."
"You don't respect my work."
"I respect it, but I don't worship it. And you shouldn't either. If I hadn't made you relax a little, you wouldn't have the clients you have right now."
"I earned those clients and I'm proud of it. Run from responsibility if you want, but don't try to convince me you're right. And don't expect me to join you."
