Page 9 of Beyond the Stroke

“We don’t need to do anything. I’m fine now,” I say, firmly.

The children, who had been instructed to stay back, have inched closer.

“It’s Prince Eric!” Ten four-year-olds squeal in unison.

“He rescued the mermaid!” one girl shrieks excitedly.

“No,she’ssupposed to rescuehim,” comes a disapproving voice.

I’m wondering if they think my asthma attack is part of some skit. I wish it was. I wish I could stand up and laugh it off. But standing in this tail is impossible and laughing right now would cause further pain to my aching chest.

“Oh, my goodness! Is that Rory Shields?” a woman behind us calls.

His name hits like a rogue wave—Rory Shields. Of course. I’ve seen the sign at the edge of town. The golden boy of swimming. Coral Cove’s hometown hero. And now, my accidental lifeguard.

There’s a murmur throughout the group of bystanders. And now that I’m not dying, the crowd moves closer, many of them trying to draw the attention of the man who rescued me.

A shadowy figure looms over me and I squint up into the sun to find Rich shaking his head.

“That was not what I hired you for,” he hisses. Tenneil stands behind him, with crossed arms and a pinched, sour face. As far as expressions go, she’s a one trick pony, and disapproval is all she knows.

I swallow the lump in my throat. I’ve been around people like Rich my whole life. Up until a few years ago, I was on his sideof this transaction so I know exactly what is going through his mind and I hate that I was ever associated with people like him.

My mouth opens, but nothing comes out.

“Are you out of your mind?” Rory barks as he returns his attention to me. To where Rich and Tenneil are towering over me. “You sent her into a red-flag surf for a stupid photo op?” He motions down the beach to the lifeguard stand where a red flag is waving in the breeze.

“O-oh,” Rich stammers. “I didn’t realize.”

“She could have gotten pulled under, you idiot. You think a plastic mermaid tail is going to help her fight a rip current?”

Rick blinks. “I—I apologize.” And Tenneil behind him is standing there with her mouth gaping open. It’s clear no one has ever put her in her place before.

“If you ever put her, or anyone, in danger like that again, you’ll be answering to more than an angry swimmer.” Rory lowers his voice. “And if there weren’t children present, I’d tell you how I really feel about you.”

With that, Rory bends down to scoop me up.

“All right, Ariel, let’s get out of here,” he says loudly for everyone to hear.

“What are you doing?” I whisper as he starts walking toward the parking lot.

“Play along.” He winks. “And then Prince Eric and the little mermaid lived happily ever after,” he calls to the birthday party before adding to me, “Now smile and wave.”

“Daddy, that’s the best birthday surprise ever!” I hear the birthday girl call.

four

. . .

RORY

I’m fucking furious. Angry at Rich for being an oblivious asshole, but also annoyed that she didn’t set boundaries when he asked her to do something that put her at risk.

Or maybe I’m projecting. I haven’t exactly nailed the whole boundary thing myself, especially with my parents, who always have their own agenda.

I don’t know Rich, but he strikes me as the kind of guy who sends a steak back three times and thinks his money entitles him to control people. I’ve seen it before. Coral Cove Beach & Golf Club has plenty like him.

Growing up, I swam laps at the fifty-meter pool, ate overpriced crab cakes, and listened to men like him talk over everyone. Not all of them were bad, but Rich reminds me of the worst kind.

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