Diving In (32 page)

“Why didn’t you tell me Diane asked you to marry her?”

He blinked in surprise. He hadn’t told Brand about it, so Diane must have brought it up on her own. “I didn’t tell anyone about it, not just you.”

“She said it was Tuesday, which means it was before you came down on me about Miles. Now who’s the one hiding their feelings?”

“I wasn’t hiding mine,” he said, “I was hiding hers. She’s a friend. She’d had too much to drink, she’d lost her job. I knew she didn’t mean it.”

“We slept together Tuesday night.”

“I remember it fondly.”

“A woman you love proposes to you, and you turn around and have sex with somebody else?”

He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “You wish I’d had sex with her instead?”

“This isn’t happening.” Her voice was heavy with despair as she sat on the edge of the bed.

“But nothing’s happened. Nothing’s changed. Not really.”

“But it has,” she said. “Brand said she’s been planning this for a long time. Marrying you. She didn’t deny it.”

“You were eavesdropping from two balconies away,” he said. “How can you be sure what she said?”

“I’m sure about that part.”

“Well, I don’t believe it. But let’s forget that for a minute. Marrying Diane obviously isn’t what
I
want, so why are you mad at me?”

She touched the lampshade on the wall sconce, adjusted it slightly. “There’s more.”

“More what?”

“More about you,” she said.

If Brand and Diane were talking about him, his family and financial situation would’ve come up. Neither one of them thought he was handling it right.

He took a deep breath. “You found out I’m not rich anymore.”

“They said something about your father.”

“Yeah, he didn’t like my life choices. He cut me off.”

“When?”

“Last fall.”

She shook her head, looking incredulous.

“It bothers you.” It was a statement, not a question. Whether people wanted to admit it or not, money mattered. They liked him better because he had money. Why wouldn’t they like him less without it?

“You should’ve told me,” she said.

He crossed his legs, leaned back, and tried to hide how much it hurt to know she was the same as everybody else. “I’m glad I didn’t. Maybe you wouldn’t be here right now if I had.”

Her mouth dropped open. “How can you say that?”

“What am I supposed to think? You’re freaking out because you heard I’m not the rich guy you thought I was.”

“I’m upset—
upset
—because you lied to me. You’ve intentionally made me think that money’s no big deal, dropping two grand on a cabana so I could take a shower…”

He looked at his hands, entwined in his lap. “It was worth twice that.”

There were a few long seconds of silence.

“Wow, I’m so flattered.” Her voice dropped an octave. “Now I’m not only a prostitute, but an expensive one.”

“Come on, you’re overreacting. I didn’t tell you everything, that’s true. Neither did you. When you were going to tell me you were in love with another guy?” He stood. “A bit more relevant, don’t you think? I didn’t come down on you about that.”

She shook her head. “I am not in love with Miles.”

“Sure.”

“I wouldn’t have slept with you if I’d thought I was in love with another man,” she said.

“Not even to help yourself get over him?”

“No.”

“I wish I believed you.”

“Yeah, me too.” She turned away from him. Her shoulders were rigid under his shirt.

“This is why I didn’t tell you,” he said. “I was afraid you’d react just like this.”

“You have a pretty low opinion of me,” she said, turning. “But apparently, that’s what you like. Women you can look down on.”

“That is
not
true,” he said. “I don’t care what you think you heard.”

“They laughed about it, both of them.” She ran a hand through her hair. “You like to rescue damsels. I’m a damsel, I guess. Even though I didn’t need rescuing, you obviously think I did.”

“What I told Brand”—he clenched his teeth—“was that I
thought
I was in
love
with you.” He looked down at himself, furious he wasn’t wearing anything but a bed sheet. He couldn’t put on his shirt because she was wearing it. She was also blocking his way to his closet.

Nicki didn’t look surprised by his declaration. “Diane said, ‘he always says that.’ That’s what they were laughing about.”

“I don’t care what either one of them said. I think it’s pretty pathetic that you do.”

“Pathetic,” she said.

“Yes. It’s just fear talking. You let it totally control you.”

Her face hardened. “That’s not fair. I heard what I heard. Don’t twist it into something about me being crazy.”

“You don’t admit you have a fear problem?”

“Of course I admit it! But that’s not what’s going on here!”

“I feel what’s going on between us,” he said, “and I know what it’s called. I’m not afraid to admit it.”

“You’re going too fast.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “You don’t know me well enough to love me.”

“I was working on it.” He pointed at her. “And so were you.”

“Yeah, we’ve had lots of sex. It’s great, but it’s not love. You never talked to me, I never talked to you. Except about my phobias, which apparently you like.”

“They’re a pain in the ass, but I like you enough to overlook them.”

Her face went blank. Then she looked down at the floor, walked around the bed, and picked up her shorts. “I need to be alone,” she said, pulling them on.

“Doesn’t it mean anything to you? That I love you?”

Her voice was shaking. “You don’t mean it. We barely know each other.” She walked to the door. “You love everybody. You’re just that kind of guy.”

“And you’re not that kind of girl?”

“Easy? Impulsive?” she asked. “No. And sometimes, that’s a good thing. A very good thing.” She strode out the door.

He moved to follow her, tripping over the comforter on the floor.

It’s great, but it’s not love.

He stumbled into the living room and caught his balance on the breakfast counter. He heard her bedroom door bang shut. Then the lock clicked.

This is how she reacts to the idea of me loving her.

He put a second hand on the counter, then his forehead. He stayed there for a minute, catching his breath, before going back to his room.

He felt too awful to feel anything at all.

Chapter 27

T
HE
NEXT
MORNING
, N
ICKI
CRAWLED
out of bed and immediately hauled her suitcase out of the closet.

She stared at it.
Here we go again.
When she’d landed in Hawaii, she hadn’t expected to be on the verge of leaving it so frequently.

She couldn’t, shouldn’t run. With a deep breath, she shoved the empty suitcase back into the closet and began pacing around her bedroom.

She’d cried enough the night before; she was through with that. Part of her was ashamed about some of the things she’d done—eavesdropping, for one—but also for how she’d yelled at him when he said he loved her.

She was still angry about that. He insulted her with one breath and demanded she hand over her heart with the next. It wasn’t irrational to be cautious about love. What did love mean to him, anyway—marriage? A few months of dating back in California? She had no idea, and she wouldn’t call it
love
until she did.

She’d hurt him and been hurt, and that put her in an angry feedback loop, not sure whom to blame.

They had to talk. She got dressed and stuck her head out of her bedroom, listening for him. Not in any of the common areas.

It was only nine; maybe he’d gone back to sleep on the balcony and was still there. She got dressed and went to look for him.

No. Not on the balcony. Or in his bathroom.

She knocked on his bedroom door.

No answer. She knocked harder. “Ansel?”

She tested the doorknob; it turned, and she went in like a cop in a movie.

He wasn’t in his bedroom, either.

She let out the breath she’d been holding. “Fine,” she said to the empty room. “You went out. Okay.”

But an hour later, after she’d taken a shower and put on the mermaid dress and made a pot of coffee, she started to get restless. What if he’d gone out for the day, and she was sitting there looking pretty, just passively waiting for him?

Brand and Diane might know.

Shoving aside her embarrassment, she walked out into the hall, strode over to their door, and knocked three times, hard. She commanded her cheeks to stay as pale as a starving vampire, even though she couldn’t stop thinking about the things she’d overheard just hours earlier.

The door opened a crack. Diane’s sleepy face appeared. “Nicki?”

“Sorry to bother you. I was looking for Ansel.”

Diane closed her eyes. The crack in the door narrowed to a thin white line. “She’s looking for Ansel,” Nicki heard her say.

“He didn’t say good-bye?” That was Brand’s voice, muffled behind the door.

Nicki’s pulse pounded in her ears. Her chest tightened.
Good-bye?

She rapped on the door again. “Hello, still here.”

It flew open. Diane stood there in a white bathrobe twice her size. Brand, similarly dressed, except the robe was snug, was right behind her. They looked flushed, glowing, happy, and ready to get back into bed. Nicki was too fixated on the words
he didn’t say good-bye
to be happy for them, or relieved for herself to have Diane out of the way.

Ansel had taken himself out of the way. “Tell me,” Nicki said, not moving.

Diane stepped aside. “Come in.”

She shook her head. “Where’d he go?”

“You’d really better come in,” Brand said.

Nicki’s hands started to shake. She balled them into fists and walked slowly inside. “Did he get his own place?”

Diane glanced at Brand. “I didn’t talk to him myself,” she said.

“He’s on a plane back to San Francisco,” Brand said. “He called me from the airport.”

Nicki’s breath caught. “San Francisco?” She turned to Diane. “Seriously?”

With a sigh, Diane gave her a worried look. “He told us how you heard us on the balcony. Whatever you heard, please don’t blame Ansel. It’s totally my fault. And Brand. Brand’s fault, too.”

“Thanks,” he said.

“He’s on a plane back home, right now?” Nicki’s back bumped against the front door.

“I’m sorry,” Diane said.

“He was down in the lobby when the airport shuttle came,” Brand said. “He said he felt like moving, so he got on it. Next thing he knew, he was in Kahului booking a flight. That’s what he said.”

“Because of me?” Nicki couldn’t believe it. “Did you tell him about… about you two…” She made a vaguely romantic, hand waving gesture between them.

“I’m sure he’ll be on the next flight back,” Diane said.

Brand rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t think so.”

Both women looked at him.

“He backed out of the real estate deal,” Brand continued. “He said he needed to figure some things out. I told him not to buy a Ferrari, and he said he was doing the opposite—unloading his worldly possessions. I started to think he might join a throwback commune in Marin, the way he was talking.”

“Here I thought
I
was nuts,” Nicki said dully. She craved her beanbags. “Does he do this sort of thing often? Take off when he’s upset?”

Neither of them spoke.

“He does, doesn’t he?” Nicki asked.

Diane put her hand over her mouth and looked at the floor. Then she said, “Only once. But it was a totally different situation. He ended up in Seattle that time.”

“Because of—something like this?” Nicki asked.

“Oh, no. Nothing like that.” Diane looked at Brand. “A friend of his died in a skiing accident.”

“Drew Probert,” he said, shaking his head. “Great guy. Could make anybody laugh. Even me. The three of us used to play poker together. Drew and I would get wasted, and Ansel, sipping his diet Cokes, would still lose. On purpose, I assume. He knew Drew had tons of school loans.”

“Ansel was in his car when he found out,” Diane said. “He was supposed to meet me for pizza, but he got on 101 and didn’t stop until he hit Canada.” Diane was frowning at her. “Do you mind if I ask what you said to him last night?”

Nicki stared at her. This was
her
fault?

No. They’d just been having fun the way other people had fun when they were on vacation and found somebody to have fun with. There was no reason he should be running away as if she’d ruined his life because she wasn’t ready to say—

“I only got here about three weeks ago,” Nicki said.

“I understand,” Diane said. “He got carried away again. He’s never been the type to go slow.”

“I have to go.” Nicki turned and pulled the door open, not seeing anything but her fingers wrapped around the handle. Her legs were wooden, her body weightless.

Diane helped her with the door. “I really am sorry. We both are.”

Nicki nodded at her and went back to her own place.

I’m not sorry
, she thought.

Better now than later, when she might have been really stuck.

Carried away.

She just had to accept she’d been living in a dream world; they’d had a lovely time, a fantasy in paradise, and now the alarm clock had gone off.

Time to wake up.
 

* * *

It’s strange how good I feel
, Ansel thought as he sat in his favorite chair by the window in his apartment. It overlooked a shady corner of Glen Park in San Francisco, and smelled stale from his long absence, but he was glad he’d flown home the day before.

He hadn’t felt this good in years. Great, actually. Great.

He was his own man. Nobody could tell him what to do. Nobody expected anything from him, nobody could. He was a grown man in his own apartment, drinking his own coffee out of his own mug.

He wasn’t rich but he had the down payment for the oceanfront office building he wouldn’t be buying, and little funds here and there from friends repaying him for old favors
he
had never called loans, but they had.