Page 40 of Bay of Plenty

“And I’m just…” I lay on my side.

“You’re just what?” He stretched onto his front so our faces were closer. His eyes were kind and gentle, like I could say my worst thoughts and he wouldn’t judge me.

“Well, I feel like I’ve been, I don’t know… left behind. Like I don’t have what it takes.”

God, it felt so good to get that out. A weight off myshoulders.Left behind. Don’t have what it takes.I almost said,Does that mean I’munlovable?Thank God I didn’t. That was too raw and too scary. For me to say and him to hear.

With an inscrutable expression, he considered me for a long time.God, Declan,please don’t feel sorry for me.

“I don’t know you well,” he said. “But already I know you’ve got more than most people. You’ve got superb balance—dancing on the table. You’re up for anything—surfing. And you put everything into it. You found out inone daywhat it took me a month to uncover. And I have a huge team of people under me.”

I had to question whether he was faking it. But what was his motive? To make me like him? Feel more comfortable around him so we worked better together? “I don’t know if I can believe you, because you’re always so nice.”

“Nice?”He rocked on his forearms, his dark brows knitting together with a mock tough-guy look. “I’m not that nice. Believe me, I can be a real asshole.”

“Asshole, like what?” I grinned and raised one eyebrow. “Sometimes you squeeze a kiwifruit and you don’t buy it?”

“Hell no, I’d never do that.” We both laughed. “But you can believe me.” He gazed at me, his eyes intense, like he felt something for me. “What I don’t understand is why you don’t believe in yourself.” A current buzzed between us, like this attraction was deeper. His face moved towards me, his eyes focused on my mouth as though he was about to kiss me. I leaned closer, breathless with anticipation. This felt different, real.

His eyes flicked to something behind me. “Whatthe fuck is that?”

*

I turned around to follow his eyes. A fluffy white cat dressed in a pink tutu, a crown on its haughty head, curled around the ankles of Hans Otto.

I grabbed Declan’s hand and put my lips against his ear. “Watch,” I whispered triumphantly. “This guy is going to tell us something good.”

Plopping on my wide-brimmed hat and retying my sarong, I pulled him up playfully… as a girlfriend would. He laughed and held on to me to steady himself on his feet.

“Come to see the UFO?” Hans Otto bellowed. He lowered his binoculars.

UFO?Ugh. Not a good start.

Mr.Otto must have been around eighty-five by now, with slicked-back white hair and dressed in red and white, the colors of his Swiss hometown on the Italian border. I remembered him as horribly right-wing—“Say what you like about Mussolini, he got the trains to run on time” was one of his infamous observations—and since I’d arrived, I’d seen that he still collared anyone who got close.

He was an outsider (like me?), even an exile, but he knew the town and loved to gossip. I introduced him to Declan.

“Say ciao to the lady and her boyfriend, Bella,” he said. His cat stuck her nose in the air dismissively. Surely not the same Bella he had when I was a kid?

“The UFO went past here.” He waved his arms. “See it?” He pressed the binoculars to my eyes.

“Nope, no UFO,” I said. My brain screamed silently. “Only green bush and smoke from the hot pools on Motu five miles out.” I handed the binoculars to Declan.

“Anyone else seen it?” Declan asked.

“No. I told that girly boss at the newspaper,” he fumed. “She wouldn’t know a story if it bit her. Told those bloody idiots at the airport.”

“Are you sure it wasn’t a gannet?” I asked, counting up to ten in my mind.

“Good crumbs, girl. Not a bird. A flying craft.”

“That’s interesting.” I grasped for a good transition. “I know Snow is out here a lot. Maybe he’s seen it?”

“I keep asking him. He says, ‘Nah, mate.’”

“How often do you see Snow here?” I asked. “He’s got that winery, so maybe he’s there too much to spot the UFOs?”

“Nope. Snow surfs or teaches surfing most of the day. The only time he seems to get out of the surf is when he flies a tour or picks up possum skins in Te Urewera. Pooey, does he stink after that!”

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