Authors: E. L. Todd
8
“Are you sure you’re alright?” Sydney asked.
Nancy shrugged.
“Yeah.”
They were at a party near the base of the mountains. One of Laura’s friends in
vited her, so she invited Nancy, and Nancy invited Sydney and their friends.
Sydney looked at her. “Then why didn’t you ask Derek to come?”
“I just wanted a break from him tonight.”
“He did seem sincere when he talked to Coen.”
Nancy took a drink of her glass then walked by the pool with Sydney. “I just couldn’t say no. I looked into those eyes and just fell. I don’t know what it is.”
Coen wrapped his arm around Sydney, pulling her to his side and claiming her.
Sydney rolled her eyes at him.
“What?” he asked.
“I’m wearing a wedding ring. You think people are really going to make a move?”
Coen glared at her. “Can I just be affectionate with my wife?”
Sydney shook her head then looked back at Nancy. “I don’t know what advice I can give you. I wanted to take back Aaron but I couldn’t. A part of me knows if I did, we would have worked out and got our happily ever after. When Aaron apologized, he really seemed like he meant it. Derek doesn’t apologize very often. I think he was being sincere as well.”
Nancy sighed. “I t
hink so too.”
“It sounds like a misunderstanding.”
“So you take his side?” Nancy asked.
“Not at all.
I think his behavior was unacceptable, but I also think Derek has grown a lot since you two got together.”
She nodded. “That’s true.”
“But do what you think is best.”
“I don’t know what it is about him,” Nancy said. “I just—can’t say no.”
“Do you love him?”
“I—I don’t know. Sometimes I think I coul
d. I just haven’t let myself get that attached.”
“Guard your heart for a while and see if he makes good on his promises,” Sydney said. “You can rebuild that trust eventually.”
Nancy finished her cup then looked at the bottom. “I’m going to get another.”
“Okay.”
She walked away and pushed past a few people until she made it to the keg. She got a lot of foam in her cup but she didn’t mind because she liked it the most.
A man came up to her and j
iggled his keys. “Don’t worry. I found them.”
She looked up. “Huh?”
He smiled at her. “We met on the beach last night. I asked for your help and you politely told me to get the fuck out of your way.”
“Oh,” she said, her cheeks reddening. “I’m sorry about that. I was having a really bad day.”
“I picked up on that.” He took a drink of his beer then looked at her. He wore a green t-shirt that showed the lines of his chest. His jeans were dark and he wore sandals on his feet. “So, are you still having a bad day?”
“No, I’m better
.”
“I’m glad to hear that.”
“Well, it was nice seeing you again.”
“Humor me for a moment, Nancy.”
She turned back to him. She wasn’t sure why. Her body just obeyed his command.
“Are you here with some friends?”
“Yeah,” she said as she looked over her shoulder. Coen and Sydney were making out, his hand gliding up her shirt. “Well, I was. They’re a little busy right now.”
He laughed.
“Newlyweds?”
“What gave them away?”
He smiled. “So, Nancy. How do you know Kara?”
“Kara?”
“The girl who’s throwing the party.”
“Oh, I don’t. I’m a friend of a friend.”
He nodded. “Got it. So, are you having a good time?”
“Yeah.”
He looked into her glass. “You like foam?”
“You ask a lot of questions.”
“Sorry, it’s difficult to carry a conversation when the only responses I get are ‘oh’ and ‘yeah’.”
Her cheeks blushed. “I’m sorry I’m not pleasant company. So where were your keys?”
“In my pocket.”
“Well, that sounds like a blonde moment.”
“Not when I knew they were there the whole time.”
“What?”
“I needed an excuse to talk to you. When I saw you storming off the beach, I had to do something.”
“Why would you want to talk to me?”
He smiled at her, a playful expression on his face. “Why does a guy want to talk to any girl?”
“Sorry, I just assumed you would go for one of my girlfriends instead.”
“Why would you assume that?”
“Well, they are both gorgeous.”
“As are you.”
Nancy stared into his face, seeing the confident look in his eyes. “Uh…thanks.”
He took a drink of his beer then shifted his weight. “So, do you have a last name?”
“Erikson.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Really?”
“Why is that interesting?”
“No reason. Are you a student at the university?”
“Yeah.
I’m a junior.”
“Are you an art major?”
She felt her heart race at his assumption. “No. Why?”
He nodded. “It was just a guess. You seem like an artistic person.”
“So you’re a surfer?”
“Why do you assume that?”
“We met on the beach.”
“Yes, I am. I love it.”
She nodded. “Trying to go pro?”
He shrugged. “I would
n’t mind it.”
Nancy realized he was just like all the other guys she met on the beach.
Mellow, lazy, easy going. “Do you go to the university?”
“No,” he said. “College was never for me.”
“I hate it too sometimes.”
“I feel like I’ve learned more in life through experience than anything else.”
She didn’t know what to say to that.
“So, if your major isn’t art, what is it?”
“Microbiology.”
“Interesting.
Do you enjoy it?”
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?” he asked with a smile.
“Well, it’s interesting, but…I don’t know. I guess I’m just not passionate about it.”
“What are you passionate about?”
She wasn’t sure why he was asking. “I really love to paint. There’s nothing else I would rather do. Sometimes I don’t think about what I’m drawing, just work through my problems. By the time I’m finished, I have a picture right in front of me. The world becomes
quiet, the voices in my head disappear. Life doesn’t seem so complicated. It’s peaceful, easy.” She looked at him and saw him staring into her eyes, his expression unreadable. “I know that sounds weird.”
“Not at all.”
“Really?”
He stepped closer to her.
“Yeah.” The depth of his eyes made her feel uncomfortable. They were so blue and dark, mysterious in their depth. He leaned closer to her, close enough that she could smell the faint scent of his cologne. He was confident but not cocky, finding the right line but never crossing it. She wasn’t sure how she felt in that moment. A connection formed between, unspoken but ever present.
The intense look
made her feel flustered, so she looked down at her cup, seeing the foam disappear.
He shifted his weight again then looked at the
crowd of people. “So, where do you work, Nancy?”
“At the aquarium.”
“Do you like it? Or do you not know?”
She chuckled lightly.
“For the most part. Lately, I haven’t.”
“Why is that?”
“My two best friends don’t work with me anymore. It just isn’t as fun.”
“Why did you decide to work there?”
She shrugged. “Since I’m a science major, I decided to find a job related to the field. After my friend got a job, she recommended me.”
“And
what do you do there?”
“I’m a janitor.”
He didn’t react to her words.
“I just wanted to get my foot in the door.”
He nodded. “You have to start somewhere.”
“So, how long have you been surfing?”
“Since I can remember. My father and I used to do it all the time.”
“Why did he stop?”
“He passed away.”
“Oh.” Now she felt like an insensitive jerk. “I’m sorry.”
“Thank you.” He stared into her eyes, never wavering as he held her gaze. “We used to do it every morning. After he passed away, I stopped for a long time because it was too hard for me, made me too sad. I started up again and haven’t stopped. I feel connected to him when I ride the waves, that he’s just a few feet away on his own board.”
Nancy didn’t know what to say. He just told her something so personal but she couldn’t think of an intelligent response. She was afraid she would say the wrong thing and make it worse. But she was also afraid if she didn’t say anything
, it would make her look insensitive. “I’m—I’m glad you still honor him.”
He took a drink of his beer and nodded. “Can I ask you something personal?”
“Uh, I don’t know.”
“You don’t have to answer it.”
“Okay.”
“What do you paint?”
“What?” She was not expecting that.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean
to offend you.”
“No, you didn’t. I just wasn’t expecting that question. You said it was personal.”
“Artwork is personal. I can’t think of anything more intimate.”
She stared at him, noticing the curve of his jaw. “Do you paint?”
He shrugged. “I do a little here and there.”
“Oh, I wasn’t expecting that.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. I just wasn’t.”
“So, what do you paint?”
“Um, nothing in particular.
My emotions guide my hand. I don’t do much on my part.”
“So you do abstract art?”
“Sorta.”
“What do you use?”
“Oil paint.”
He nodded. “
I use everything. No two paintings look alike. They are all individuals.”
“I can’t afford such luxuries,” she said with a laugh.
“Aren’t you Bill Erikson’s daughter? The owner of the Ohana Resort?”
“How did you know that?”
“It was just a guess. Your last name isn’t very common.”
“Well, yes I am,” she said with a sigh, wishing he hadn’t figured it out.
“You seem embarrassed.”
“No, I’m ashamed.”
“Why?”
“It’s—nothing.”
He stared at her, waiting for her to speak. For some reason, his look could pull anything out of her.
“My dad is a billionaire. He has everything he’ll ever need. But he treats his workers like slaves, pays them minimum wage, and does everything he can to cut expenses and
get the most bang for his buck. He’s just greedy.”
Thatcher said nothing for a long time, waiting to see if she had
anything else to say. “Businessmen can be that way.”
“Well, he shouldn’t. There’s no reason.”
“Have you said anything to him?”
“Indirectly.”
“Since you’re going to inherit it someday, you’ll have your chance to change it.”
“I don’t want it,” she snapped.
“You don’t?”
“No. Why would I?”
“Because you would be a billionaire,” he said with a laugh.
“Money can’t buy you happiness. Fortune only weighs down your wallet and scr
ews with your ego. Nothing good ever comes from money.”
He stepped closer to her, a slight smile on his face. “So, that’s why you work at the aquarium?”
“I would rather be a janitor there than take any of his money. I live with him, rent free, but he doesn’t pay for any of my bills or my luxuries. I don’t need him. I’ll find my own way in life.”
“That’s—badass.”
“Badass?”
“It’s inspirational. Most people would gladly take that gig.”
“Money has done nothing but ruin my family. I don’t want anything to do with it. It’s evil.”
“So, what’s your plan, then?”
“My plan?”
“For you
r life.”
“Well, I was hoping to graduate and get a job.”
“Doing what?”
She shrugged.
“Working in a lab.”
“Do you want to work in a lab?”
“Not really.”
“Then don’t do it.”
“I need to support myself.”
“Why don’t you try painting instead?”