Page 54 of Pick-Up
“Look,” I say, whipping around to face him as we arrive at my villa’s front door. I take a step back so we’re far apart enough for me to trust myself. “I’m trying to be professional! This job… it’s actually an important opportunity for me.”
After a beat, he nods, reorganizing his face into a serious expression. “Fair enough. You’re right. Of course. I promise to respect that. It’s important to me too.”
“Good.” I turn to bolt inside.
“Hey, one thing,” he says.
I pause and force myself to look back at him, though I can barely make eye contact.
“Did you really see a stingray? While you were just standing out there?”
“Oh.” I exhale. “Yeah. I did.”
“That sounds incredible.”
If this is designed to disarm me, it works.
“It was the most amazing thing.”
“I bet.” There’s not a drop of cynicism in his voice.
A moment of silence.
“It’s so beautiful here,” I say finally.
“It is,” he agrees. But he is looking at me.
“Hey,” I say, holding out the lantern. “Don’t you need this to get to your villa?”
His brow furrows; he parts his lips—the ones I just had my mouth on.
But then “Boo!” Stephanie appears out of the darkness, making me jump. “Hi, guys!”
My hand comes to rest on my pounding chest. I have reached my quota for surprises today. “What happened to drinks?” I manage.
“Eh, everyone wanted to be ‘responsible,’ and Martin was too pickled to continue, so… here I am with my two roomies.”
“Two roomies?” I say, realization beginning to dawn.
“Yeah!” she says. “The three of us are sharing the villa!” She slips past me, scans her key card and pushes the door open.
“Oh,” I say, struck dumb again. “I thought we were with Jackie.”
“No.” She shakes her head. “I organized the room assignments. This is thefunhouse! They can be all tidy and proper over there!”
My eyes slide to Ethan’s. He holds his hands up like it’s a stickup.It wasn’t me.
Stephanie crosses to the counter and pours herself another glass of wine. I follow her inside, and Ethan trails behind me. There is no way I can look at his face now. He’ll see too much in mine.
Without passing go, I cross to my room and rest my hand on the doorknob, desperate to disappear. To be polite and “normal,” I turn back, posture proper. “Good night!” I chirp, too brightly. Stephanie waves, mid sip.
Ethan is standing just feet from me, his hand on the doorknob of the room next to mine. Myadjoiningroom. I cannot even think about the interior door that separates us. What iswithme?
Trying to be brave, I meet his eyes and, honestly, I’m too jumbled up myself to read his expression.
“Good night,” he coughs, as he enters his suite.
“Sleep tight!” I reply. And die of embarrassment.
