Pieces of You(33)

“So you came from North Carolina?” she asks as she gently pushes the scooter along the sidewalk so she doesn’t pass me by.

“Yeah, Wilmington. You work for Larry?”

Larry Cromwell is the contracting officer on base whose ass my dad French kissed to get us this job. The guy is more of a prick than my dad, judging by the emails he sent me complaining about politics. I can’t even imagine what it must be like to work directly under him like Sam.

“I don’t really work with Larry. I work with Ollie. Ollie protects me from Larry.” She snorts again because apparently this must be funny.

We cross Kahakai Road and soon find ourselves on the beach near Waimea State Park, where she folds up her scooter and tucks it under her arm. The waves should be better further north, but I’m really looking forward to just getting this excursion with Sam over with. Then I’ll come out again tomorrow morning and find a sweet spot.

“So you’re a surfer? Is that why your company sent you?” she asks when we reach the shore.

I stand my board up in the sand and gaze at the glistening ocean. The sun is rising behind us, barely warming my back, and I breathe a sigh of relief at the sight before me. The glimmer of sunlight painted across the surface of the water puts me at ease. This is where I’m meant to be.

“My dad sent me to handle the project startup,” I reply. “I’ll only be here for eight weeks, but, yeah, I have a competition lined up while I’m here.”

“Sweet.” She drops her scooter onto the sand. “I surf too, but that car doesn’t have a rack so I couldn’t bring my board. You’re lucky you live within walking distance of the beach.”

She takes off running into the water without another word. I’m just thankful she didn’t challenge me to a race or some other corny shit. I’m even more pleased when she allows me to surf in peace. She swims out to a buoy that looks to be about a quarter-mile offshore then back. When she reaches the shore, she collapses and lies on her towel for about an hour before she comes back into the water.

After two hours of my sad attempts to catch some weak waves, I finally give up. But as soon as I start to leave the water, she follows after me. I trudge across the sand, refusing to look at her as she jogs toward the place where she dropped her scooter a few yards away. She snatches it up and quickly catches up with me.

“The waves are way better on the north shore. I can take you sometime. My truck has space for your board.”

“Why didn’t they rent me a truck? Who the fuck ordered me a mom car?”

“That was me,” she confesses with a guilty look. “I assumed you’d be some stick-up-the-ass rich white boy. I didn’t think you’d be so….”

“So what?”

“So cool.”

I hold my arm out to stop her from crossing the street as a huge truck comes barreling toward us. Once the street is clear, we race across Kahakai Road.

I instantly forget what Sam said about me being cool as my mind wanders to the night I almost ran Claire over with my truck. She was so pissed at me; she almost refused to let me drive her home. I’m here for her and nothing else. Once the startup phase is complete, I can go home to Claire and say goodbye to my dad’s bullshit.

We arrive at the wooden fence surrounding the front yard of the rental house and she salutes me like a soldier. “See you at oh-eight-hundred.”

I shake my head as she scoots off down the street. What an odd girl, yet there’s something about her I find strangely interesting. I think it’s the way she doesn’t seem to have any interest in me. She didn’t look at me the way most girls look at me when I first meet them. Maybe it is possible for guys and girls to just be friends. Maybe I really have nothing to worry about with Claire and Chris.





Chapter Fifteen





Chris




THE PHONE RINGS IN MY ear as I wait for Claire to pick up. I try to remind myself to stay calm, but this feeling that I’m being lied to makes this very fucking difficult.

“Hello,” she says and just the sound of her voice catches me off guard.

Suddenly, I can’t remember why I called.

“Chris?”

Then it comes back to me. “I thought you told me you didn’t have the money to pay your bill. My assistant just called to pay it and they said your bill was paid this afternoon.”

She’s silent for a moment, probably trying to come up with another lie. “Adam paid it for me.”

I want to throw the phone at the wall. I’m so sick of hearing his fucking name.

“Good,” I reply as I grit my teeth to bite back an angry retort. “Can you talk right now? About Abigail?”