Mayne Attraction: In The Spotlight (26 page)

Taking the book from my hands she opened to
the table of contents and then handed it back to me.

“It’s all outlined in the book. You don’t
even have to get wet at first, if you don’t want to. I have a
really, really good feeling about this. Please just try it,” she
concluded with a bit of wheedling in her tone.

Here comes the guilt trip portion of the
monologue.

“You don’t know how bad we felt about what
happened. If we’d lost you…”said Trevor, shaking his head as though
he couldn’t continue.

I had to give him credit. He was very
convincing and intense as he took the lead in the guilt
tripping.

“The ability to swim is an extremely
important life skill,” he continued. “You owe it to yourself to at
least try; especially when we’ve gone to so much effort to make it
easy and enjoyable for you.”

That was impressive. I couldn’t think of a
single ungracious response.

“So you’ll give it a try then?” Sam beamed,
jumping back into convincing mode.

Just then the waiter came up. Who knows what
he’d been doing up to this point. Sleeping, maybe?

“What can I get you folks to drink?” he
inquired.

Trevor replied, “We’ll have two cokes, and
what about you, Ellery?”

“Looks like I’m having water.”

The ride across town to the aquatic center
took twenty minutes or so. We passed the drive in quiet reflection,
just listening to the radio. During our early-bird special dinner
and afterwards I’d had time to reasonably assure myself that the
scope of the conspiracy was larger than my two companions, and that
somehow they had been manipulated by the security team in regard to
my swimming lessons. Thinking through all that might entail made me
feel more positive about the upcoming experience than I would have
ever believed possible.

When we arrived Sam pulled part two of her
care package out of the trunk: a trendy looking swim bag filled up
with things I’d need like matching flip flops, two towels (one for
after the pool, and the other for after the shower) and a
collection of sample sized Aveda bath gel, shampoo, conditioner and
body lotion products. My best friend was annoying and pushy, yet
pleasingly thoughtful and thorough.

They wouldn’t just let me out at the door,
fearing I’d hide out in the locker room or possibly run off. But
once I’d been transferred to the custody of my ‘instructor’ I made
Trevor and Sam promise to leave the premises, making it clear that
I would not cooperate if I thought they were watching. After all,
they were not my parents, and I had a right to some privacy.

When it came to my reaction to the
instructor, they were more right than they’d realized. I did like
him. He was really hot. He was everything I’d hoped for, and less.
Less clad, to be specific. His perfectly cut body, especially the
musculature gracing his chest and abdomen underneath that gorgeous
light coffee colored skin made my urge to gawk and touch him nearly
impossible to override. In fact I failed at this multiple times—the
gawking and the touching.

“Who’s Raffi?” I asked him once they were
gone.

“It’s actually a nickname my grandmother
gave me. My first name is Ashraf. It’s Persian. Raffi is a
familiarized shortened version,” he explained through a big warm
smile.

I knew the happiness had nothing to do with
explaining his name. I was happy too, sort of. My hunch had been
dead on.

“Thank you for finally agreeing to this.
I’ll be able to relax whenever you go near water now,” he said
while taking my bag from my hands and placing it on a nearby pool
chair.

Just as promised, the large indoor aquatic
center was mostly deserted. There were a few senior citizens doing
laps in the lanes at the far end, but everyone else was off having
dinner.

“Are you really a certified swimming
instructor?” I asked.

“Not in this country, but I used to work as
a lifeguard when I was younger. I had to study up on this
particular teaching method, but it’s very straightforward—ingenious
really. And it’s perfect for you. You’ll be swimming circles around
me in no time.”

He took my hand and guided me to the edge of
the pool, indicating that we should sit with our feet in the water.
The smell of the chlorine and the droning sounds of pool pumps and
exhaust fans were bringing on a panic attack of memories associated
with my last swimming experience. I tried to block the
unreasonableness by diverting myself in mystery solving.

“I have a question,” I asked, after we’d
been sitting for a moment. “How do you know Trevor?”

He looked a little guilty, or maybe it was
chagrin.

“I thought it was important to know the
strange looking person who befriended and now transports my love
nearly everywhere she goes,” he explained in all seriousness.

“So I trailed him when I wasn’t on duty, to
make sure he wasn’t being evil in his private time,” he smiled a
little at his joke, “and then I joined his health club and made
friends with him in the weight room. He’s nicer than he looks.”

“That’s debatable. What did you think of
Sam?”

“She’s nicer than she looks, too,” and he
chuckled again, but then he turned serious and added, “It’s obvious
that she cares very deeply for you. If I didn’t know the
relationship, I would have assumed you were family.”

“We’re ‘framily’, actually. Those are
friends that you love like family, so they’re called framily,” I
explained.

We had never discussed my specific term of
endearment for the Goths.

“Ellery, do you consider me…to be framily?”
he asked, deeply serious, searching my eyes.

My stomach did a flip and a twist, but I
held it together and confessed the truth.

“Temporarily, I guess. But that’ll never be
good enough for me.”

I looked out over the water as I said
this.

He still had my hand between his and
squeezed it a little tighter in response to my admission.

“Or me.”

Chapter 22
–
Miracle

My Jeep was a federal disaster area. Ever
since I’d started dating Special Agent Fabulous, I’d been busy
having too much fun and ignoring the business of personal
responsibility, which included keeping my vehicle looking nice. Of
course, it’s difficult to do anything useful when you’re high all
the time.

When I called Ash to check in and inform him
about my car-care chore plans for the afternoon, he’d arrived
seconds later, reporting for duty. It made me feel a little
embarrassed and guilty. I hadn’t intended to rope him into some
grunt work, I was merely explaining an item on my ‘to do’ list for
the day. But in his presence, even washing and vacuuming out a
filthy vehicle had a certain pleasure about it. Perhaps it was the
smell of the fabric freshener I was using on the carpet…

“So what would you like for your
graduation?” he asked without looking up. He’d shown up in a
sleeveless tee shirt and nylon shorts, slowing down my progress
because I kept looking at him instead of the car I was supposed to
be cleaning.

He was on one knee at the front, working
methodically to remove a series of stubbornly stuck on road bugs
from the bumper, being careful not to scratch the paint in the
process.

“My diploma?” I replied, trying to be
funny.

He humored me with a laugh.

It was the last week of school and the big
day was looming on Saturday. As seniors, we got half days off until
school was out. I’d driven myself to school that morning because
Sam had a dental appointment afterwards, clear up in Cincinnati,
which Trevor was taking her to. When I asked her why there wasn’t a
worthy dental professional in Louisville to suit her needs, she
explained that Dr. Alex was the regional dentist to the stars, most
particularly sports stars. He was the team dentist for the
Cincinnati Reds, extending his practice to Bengals and Cyclones as
well. He also cared for the emergent dental needs of the occasional
traveling dignitary or rock star. Once she’d learned of his special
skill and artistry through word of mouth from her sports star
brother-in-law, no other provider would do for Miss Sun. They
wouldn’t be back until very late.

Returning to my Jeep in the parking lot when
school let out, and taking in the full extent of the dirt and gunk
in the bright sunlight, I had hit my limit of tolerance and vowed
to make cleaning it up the first priority for my afternoon off.

Ash was on duty and my parents were both at
work. We had finished washing the Jeep in the driveway and
vacuuming out several weeks’ worth of debris from the floor and
seats. Now we were back inside the garage, out of the sun. He was
preparing to apply a coat of wax and I was detailing the inside. I
had stepped out to grab some more paper towels from off the
counter.

“I mean for a gift. You’re surprisingly
difficult to shop for, you know,” he explained.

“Maybe you should go to a gift shop, then,”
I said, trying to tease him and dodge the issue simultaneously.

My real answer would embarrass us both. I
didn’t want anything…but him…and not in a way that I could have at
this point. So there was no point in bringing that up.

“Does that mean you’d like an inspirational
plaque of some sort, or a large scented candle?” he shot back with
a smile.

“Sure, but only if its Ash scented,” I said
as I grazed my fingers through his hair while moving past him on my
way back to the driver’s seat.

“Seriously, Ellery. Is there something,
anything you’ve had your eye on? Just a hint would be nice. You’re
the least materialistic girl I’ve ever encountered.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere,” I
replied, with my head out the window.

I was as materialistic as the next girl. I’d
just been in a slump. Then I met him and nothing else mattered.

“It’s true. It’s very difficult to tell
where your fancy lays. You’re not into jewelry. You don’t care
about expensive handbags or gadgetry. In fact, I’ve never seen you
buy anything fun for yourself, and believe me, I’ve been watching
for that.”

Yes, I would imagine you have.

I wondered at this line of questioning. He’d
sent me one cool gift after another, anonymously, of course. Those
were proof that he knew exactly where my fancies hung out. Maybe
he’d just exhausted his idea base, or thought that I’d grown tired
of wonderful surprises.

“Well, there is one thing.”

A thought occurred to me and I started
saying it before I realized that I shouldn’t be saying it. Ash
looked up from his toil at the hood of the Jeep in eager
expectation. I tried to backpedal.

“But I’m pretty sure it’s not a good
idea…right now. So never mind.”

I picked up the Windex and started working
on the inside of the windshield. He stood up and came around to the
passenger side, opened the door and got in.

Great.

I needed to come up with something
quickly.

“Let’s hear it,” he encouraged.

“Well, maybe a chocolate diploma would be
nice. But they probably don’t make those. You could check it out,
though,” I said as I squirted the windshield again and started the
wipe down for a second time. I stole a quick glance at him to see
if he’d bought the switch-out.

He hadn’t.

“What’s not a good idea?” he asked, ignoring
my nonsense.

I took a deep breath and then let out a long
sigh. Then I looked at him. Those piercing blue-gray eyes trapped
mine in a tractor beam. They were the best part of his face, which
made them ultra perfect. Sometimes I couldn’t get over how
beautiful he was. How in the world did I end up with him? I had
always believed in miracles. I just hadn’t believed in miracles for
myself. They happened all the time; I was sure, but only to people
who deserved it. Sitting here in my Jeep, though, looking at the
face of the smartest, kindest, cutest boy in the known universe, I
had to acknowledge that miraculous events were touching my life,
whether I deserved it or not. In fact, Mr. Miraculous was touching
my face at that very moment. I must have taken too long in
reflection mode.

“Ellery?” he asked, pulling me back from
deep thought.

Though my eyes hadn’t been allowed to leave
his, my brain had taken a trip. When it pulled back into the
station I blinked and shook my head.

“What’s not a good idea, Love?” he
pressed.

I was going to regret this, but I didn’t
dare go for two side stepping attempts and risk offending him. I
took a deep breath and tried to explain myself.

“When I’m with you, I’m so happy; the
happiest I’ve ever been. It’s like I feel pinched,” I began.

When his eyebrows scrunched together in
question I explained, “You know, like, ‘Pinch me, I’m
dreaming?’”

He nodded, waiting for the rest.

“But when we’re apart, sometimes I have
these little panic attacks, where I think that maybe you really are
just a dream. After all, I’m the only one that knows about you. If
you disappeared, I’d have no proof you ever existed outside my
fantasies.”

There was that jump drive he’d given me, but
mentioning it would detract from the case I was trying build.

“I know it’s dangerous, but I’d love it if I
could have a picture of you—even if it was really small. If I could
just have something that I can hold and see when I’m missing you,
well, that would be really…therapeutic.”

His face was hard to read. Now he was the
one lost in thought. After an increasingly uncomfortable silence I
started to back track.

“It’s not a good idea. I know. Just…never
mind. Don’t worry about it. How about some car wash coupons so you
don’t get stuck doing this again?” I suggested, trying to divert
him from what was turning into deep distraction.

“The next time you have a panic attack
please call me and I’ll talk you through it, alright?”