A few blocks down route 24 a patch of nature was nearly lost amid the businesses along the busy road. The remains of an asphalted drive began at the sidewalk and led them back between the lines of oaks. There was no undergrowth, just dirt and grass, so they were perfectly visible from the road, yet set apart from business and traffic at the same time.
At the end of the spit of land, the cliff dropped off and the water below lapped at the rocks tumbled at its base. Across the sound, Bogue Island stretched in both directions—the water between the two shores glittered in the late afternoon light.
“You come here often?”
She shrugged. “Sometimes on break, I bring a book and read here. It’s peaceful.” She gave him a steady look. “Peaceful, but not too private. Lots of traffic out that way.”
He followed her pointing finger. “We passed a huge For Sale sign by the road. Do you worry you’ll lose your peaceful spot?”
“Yes. No. It’s a nice place to hang out when I don’t have enough time to go home on break, but it’s not mine—it’s temporary. Everything’s temporary.”
The call of the gulls and the slap of the water relaxed her, as it always did, taking her out of her real life. She wandered over to an ancient live oak. It was bent by a century or more of relentless onshore winds, yet it thrived.
“Everything?”
“Yes.”
He stared out across the water. She waited. Any minute now they would have the awkward ‘can we date discussion’ and she was pretty sure she was going to shoot him down.
Pretty sure? Was she actually considering seeing him again?
She asked, “Are you married?”
“I was. A long time ago.”
“What happened?”
He turned away, but she’d already seen the sorrow on his face.
No, she wouldn’t see him again. She had enough of her own baggage; she didn’t need his, too.
“I have an offer to make. I hope you’ll consider it.”
Juli opened her mouth and shut it again. Not a date? She crossed her arms.
“I hope you aren’t about to suggest something illegal.”
His eyes widened. “No, nothing like that. A job, one might say, but better paying.”
“What?”
“A business arrangement. Companionship.”
She was startled. She examined her sleeve as if discovering a flaw and plucked at it, buying herself a moment. Around them the breeze whispered as it stirred the leaves of the oak. When she had her cool in control she said, “I think you’re trying to buy something I’m not selling.”
“No, I meant it as said. A friendly companionship.”
“Under your roof, is that it? I told you I’m not for sale.”
“But that’s just it—”
“Listen, Ben, I think you’re a nice guy. Strange, but nice. I’d like to go on thinking it. Let me give you some advice. If you want companionship, get a dog. If it’s love you’re after, you can’t buy it, not the real thing.”
“That’s not necessarily true. Arranged marriages have been around for as long as marriage itself. Marriage was often based on political or economic necessity. In many places around the world, even now, marrying for love is a luxury. Some cultures only have arranged marriages.” Ben leaned back against a low-hanging tree branch under the canopy of the oak.
“I know that. I’m not stupid. I read.” She kicked at a stray scrap of paper that had blown across the asphalt and sparse grass and had come to rest near her sneaker.
Ben’s sad look was gone. He seemed to be enjoying the conversation now, almost as if he’d rehearsed his lines and was pleased he’d delivered them well. Why was she willing to listen? Everything costs something, even free meals. Maybe this was the payment she owed.
“Love often followed. Not always. Life was uncertain then and now. That’s what pre-nuptial agreements are for.”
“Prenups? You mean like rich people get? Always seemed cynical to me they go into marriage expecting it to end.”
Ben shrugged lazily. “Proves my point. People get married for all sorts of reasons. Sometimes it’s love, but marriage for love doesn’t come with guarantees either.”
What could she say? Her own experience could be cited as proof nothing good came of love. Ben was staring out across the water. It was a beautiful view, but couldn’t compare with what he saw every day from his own front porch. She’d glimpsed it in the dark and even that was convincing. He had the relaxed contentment of someone enjoying where he was and knowing what he’d go home to was even better.
Some people were born to luck. Some weren’t. Juli knew she was in the latter group. Had been all her life.