Chapter 10
Usually, when Zack faced a particular personal crisis on the level of What the hell do I do now? he either took to expressing his frustrations through art… or ran to the marina to hang out on his yacht all day, busying himself with the kind of upkeep he hated paying other people to do.
Upkeep for his apartment? He would hire five different crews to rotate on a daily basis if it meant he never had to make his bed, clean his toilet, or vacuum the floors. But when it came to his precious Priss & Moan, he was the only one allowed to do anything aside from major overhauls. Even then, he insisted on being there every step of the way. I take care of my yacht more than I would my own children. Probably why he was in no hurry to have children, if ever.
Early Sunday morning, it was easy to decide what to do. With Uncle Roy in town, there was only one option.
“You look like you got hit by a tugboat!” Roy cried the moment he saw his nephew on the bow of his yacht. “Don’t tell me you spent the whole night partying.”
“Nope.” Zack tucked his phone into his back pocket and crossed over onto his uncle’s vessel. Roy was in the midst of doing his laundry. Like Zack didn’t want anyone touching his boat, Uncle Roy didn’t want no man or woman cleaning his things. Besides, he didn’t have much to begin with. What money he didn’t keep tucked away in his accounts went straight into his boat and the multiple trips he took around the world. Most people wouldn’t even be able to guess that he was the Roy Feldman, the rightful heir to the great Feldman Steel legacy who gave it all up to buy a yacht and piss off into the horizon. Most of his clothes and the supplies he kept inside were cheaply made since he went through them so quickly that he didn’t see the point of investing in better clothing.
Today he wore a thin blue tank top with multiple tears along the seams and a pair of gray cargo shorts stuffed with handheld tools and power bar wrappers. The most expensive thing on him was his water proof watch. That could be me one day. Tanned, gray-haired, and smelling of the sea no matter how much he bathed. Once, when Zack was in high school, he idolized his uncle for the life he lived. Now? He was happy to have him back in port whenever he made the trip around the world.
“I couldn’t sleep last night.” Zack sat out of his uncle’s way as he went to work hanging up his clothes to air dry. He claims it makes them fresher. In truth, Uncle Roy probably didn’t want to take his clothes to the local laundromat. Besides, wherever he went, the sun shined strongly enough to dry his clothes within a few hours. It was going to be a nice, warm Sunday. “Been having a weird week.”
Roy glanced at him in between hanging up a pair of boxer shorts and one of his favorite linen shirts. “One of those art things you do?” He may not have been the most articulate when it came to talking about his nephew’s career, but he never shat on it. Not like the rest of the Feldmans whenever the subject came up. “Nothing clears the mind like a day out at sea, son. When’s the last time you went out for a trip around the bay?”
While the city wasn’t considered coastal, per se, it was only a half hour jaunt downriver to get to the Atlantic. Even now, so early in the morning, boats of all sizes took off from port and headed downriver. “Too long, honestly. Guess I haven’t been in the mood. Or too busy.”
“Then do it! Or let’s do it after lunch, eh? Or we could do it before lunch.” Roy grinned at him. “Order it in and enjoy it while we soak up the sun and listen to the gulls. I hear some whales were spotted not too far out from here. You know how lucky I am getting them to come portside.”
Zack admitted it sounded tempting. He might even take his uncle up on the offer. The farther I get away from land, the easier it will be to clear my head. That’s what he told himself, anyway. And why wouldn’t he? That’s usually how it worked out.
“Anyway, it’s not my art.” Although it went hand-in-hand with his current conundrum. “Guess you could say it’s a woman.”
Roy stood up straight and clicked his tongue at his nephew. “I keep forgetting how young you still are.”
“I’m almost thirty.”
“And it wasn’t until I was forty-six that I finally stopped chasing tail, son.” Roy picked up his laundry basket, turned it over, and sat down near his nephew. “So who’s the latest lady you’re seeing?”
“I’m not really seeing her. We’re… friends… I guess.”
Roy cringed. “Ooh. Good luck with that.”
Zack wasn’t going to do it. He wasn’t going to unload everything in his head regarding Rachel and how their “friendship” had gone so far.
Then his uncle gave him that pitiful look. Here went nothing.
Zack began with seeing Rachel through the window of the café. How something about her had inspired him to walk inside and start sketching her intriguing profile.
Going back to ask her out. Her telling him that she would rather have friends than lovers.
Going out with her twice. Kissing her last night… having her kiss him back, knowing full well what was about to happen if they were never interrupted.
“What’s wrong with a little nookie, son?”
Zack scoffed. “That’s not why we went out.”
“Sounds like that’s why you went out with her.”
“I mean… I don’t want to sleep with her unless she’s 100% on board with it. Based on how she took off last night, I’m guessing it wasn’t something she actually wanted to do.”
Roy shook his head again. “Why are you wasting your time on her like this? Don’t tell me she’s the most beautiful creature you’ve ever seen in your life. I would find that hard to believe, based on some of the women I’ve seen you post to your Instagram.”
“I… wait, what? You follow my Instagram?”
“Son, I like every single thing you post! What the hell!”
Zack pulled his phone out again. “What in the world is your username? Because I don’t recall this at all.”
“Spoonertime376.”
“Spooner… what?”
“This explains why you’ve never followed me back.” Roy slammed his hands against his thighs. “Thought maybe I had done something to hurt your sensitive feelings.”
Zack brought up his uncle’s Instagram account. Most shots were of the open sea, ports, docks, Caribbean villages and the occasional selfie. At least his uncle had invested in a good selfie stick. Then again, he probably used it to swat seagulls away from his lunch more than for taking selfies.
“Women.” Roy scoffed. “They’ll be the end of all of us. Either that or money. You’ve got both twofold.”
“You never got married.”
“Nope. And I never went into the family business, either. Both were a huge waste of my time. Not saying it’s not worth it for other men, but…” He shrugged his bony shoulders. “I want to be a man of my own volition. That means no career tying me down. It definitely means no women for more than a weekend.”
That’s usually how I see the world as well. Then again, Zack had never found a woman worth more than a weekend at least, a month at the most. The women he dated were beautiful, funny, intelligent… some great combination that made them both stand out from the next and blend together into a seamless line of women, women, women. How could women be so tantalizing but also bore him half to tears?
So far, Rachel didn’t bore him. Let’s be real. It’s because she poses a challenge, and I’m the one who is bored already.
“Tell you what,” Roy continued, “you find out what this woman is thinking right now. Don’t wait another second, because if there’s anything I’ve learned in life, it’s that ruminating for so damn long will be the death of you. That’s not the life you want to live, son.”
“You want me to text her right now?”
“Yes. Better yet, invite her down here. I want to meet the woman you’re willing to bend over backward for and make a damn fool of yourself over.”
Invite her… Well, he had promised to invite her to the marina sometime. But he had been holding off unless she expressed interest because the Priss & Moan was the kind of vessel he invited certain women to. Women he was either already sleeping with or planning to sleep with.
He had no idea what his status with Rachel was right now.
***
Her alarm had long gone off, but Rachel couldn’t bring herself to get out of bed.
She continued to replay the night before in her mind as if it were the only movie she had ever seen. No, scratch that. Felt. I felt that moment with every fiber of my piss-poor being. She had been shocked when Zack kissed her. Infuriated. Disappointed. What else had she expected with a man who had made it clear he wanted to date her? Sleep with her?
Use her?
But I kissed him back. And. How.
Rachel wasn’t a demure virgin. She had slept with enough men to know what that was about. She had also made more than a few mistakes regarding those same men.
And some women, too.
Kissing Zack had been a mistake. But it was the kind of beautiful mistake that Rachel could see herself making again. Continuing to blur the line between sex and friendship. She didn’t want to date Zack, per se. She had also promised herself to not sleep with anyone until the end of August, when she could take better stock of her life. So far she was barely holding on.
Who knew that the moment she made that vow of celibacy that one of the hottest men she had ever seen would walk into her life?
I’m so sad and pathetic. If that neighbor hadn’t interrupted them… would she be waking up with Zack right now?
Hell, she already was! Just not in person!
What the fuck? A text had come in from Zack the moment Rachel tried to put her phone down again. “Hey,” it began. “About last night…”
Rachel didn’t immediately respond. She wanted to see what else he would say first. Meanwhile, my heart is about to explode. And her pussy. Because she really was that pathetic.
“I’m sorry about that. Honestly. I overstepped my bounds. I know how important it is to you that we keep our relationship friends-only. I respect that. That’s why I want to make it up to you. Can we go out today… hang out?”
Rachel swore she wasn’t in control of her fingers as they sleepily typed out a response.
“Sure.”
She continued to think of the kiss they shared the night before while waiting for his answer.
“Meet me by Fifth and Sequoia. One hour?”
It took Rachel a moment to remember where that was. Only a few blocks over from Opal’s, wasn’t it?
“I can be there in forty-five minutes.”
“Even better.”
Boy, she hoped she wouldn’t regret this.
***
She regretted it.
Rachel should have recognized the intersection of Fifth & Sequoia. Everyone who lived in the city long enough would learn the location by proxy. Because it was one of the biggest areas of congestions in all of downtown.
Why? Because that’s where the main marina entrance was.
The marina was a place Rachel conveniently forgot existed. Opal’s was as close as she got to it. Once she was able to start seeing it, however, old fears and phobias reared their ugly heads like a hydra from the river’s depths.
Fuck rivers. Fuck the ocean. Fuck water!
To say that Rachel Taylor was hydrophobic didn’t tell the whole story. At the tender age of five, she had fallen into a hotel swimming pool and only made it out alive by the grace of her mother. Rachel hadn’t known how to swim. She didn’t even know what hold your breath! meant yet. Her lungs, her throat, and her nose burned for the rest of that sad night. She suffered no lasting physical damage, but from that day, Rachel refused to get into any body of water.
This included baths, for fuck’s sake. If I can float in it, it’s too deep! I could drown!
For the most part, she didn’t care about being wet. A shower was survivable if she kept her mind on other things. God knew she was the first to start rubbing ice on her skin when it was a hundred degrees out. Water was one of the only liquids she enjoyed drinking. (Tea was a requirement for staying in cafés, since she detested coffee. Beyond that, however, Rachel wanted nothing to do with water, and that definitely meant getting on docks boats or – heaven fucking forbid – walking on docks at all.
Especially floating docks!
“What’s wrong?” Zack lifted his sunglasses and looked at her at the top of the wooden ramp leading down to the floating docks that weaved between private vessels of all sizes. How could he stand to bob up and down like that? He was bobbing, right? “It’s fine. You’re not going to fall in.”
“Um…” Rachel held her knapsack closer to her body. The cool breeze washed over her sandals, chilling her from toe to fingertip. “We don’t have to go far, right?”
Zack looked down the rows of boats. “Mine’s at the far end there. One of the best slots in the whole marina.” He extended his hand up to her. “I won’t let you fall in.”
He said it so assuredly! As if he could really prevent God from shoving poor Rachel into the nasty river water! Is this water even safe? Didn’t they used to dump garbage and sewage into it? Oh, sure, the city claimed to have cleaned that up in the late ‘80s, but they were probably lying! How many dead bodies turned up around here? People who ended up in there by accident? People who actually knew how to swim, for fuck’s sake!
“I…” She took another step back from the ramp. Her hand grabbed the nearest railing. “I don’t know about this.”
Zack came back up the ramp. “You’re that scared of the water?”
“I’m not scared,” she squeaked. “I’m fucking petrified. I can’t even swim!”
He put a hand on her shoulder. The only comfort it brought was reassuring Rachel that someone would catch her if she fell. Too bad her brain was too jumbled to get that message.
“You’re not going to fall in. I won’t let that happen.”
“Do we have to be here? Because we could go somewhere else. Like a park. Parks don’t have water.”
“Guess that means the paddle boats are out of the running.” Did he think that quip was that funny? Fuck him! “Come on, Rachel. There’s nothing to be afraid of. I want you to meet my uncle. And he practically has gills so he’s not coming up here.”
Oh, sure, easy for the seaman to say! Rachel was used to this dismissal of her phobias, though. Anyone who thought it was so easy to overlook silly things like not wanting to drown could go fuck themselves.
“Rachel.”
She looked at him with eyes that did not completely see him. Rachel was incapable of seeing anything but the water lapping at the boats, the docks, the side of the concrete walls separating cityscape from water. She looked at it as if she expected a sea creature to come out of it at any moment. Maybe the Loch Ness Monster, if it ever got off its ass and swam across the Atlantic. That would make sense right now. Her brain told her so.
She couldn’t swallow. Swallowing reminded her of drowning.
“You’re. Not. Going. To. Fall. In.”
His voice managed to bring her back to reality, but not for long. “You promise me that?”
“Absolutely.”
He had the kind of tone Rachel desperately wanted to believe. Comforting. Commanding. So assured in ways she could never be. Can you promise me that if I fall in you’ll come jumping after me like my mom did twenty-five years ago? No, he couldn’t do that. But she could trust him enough to not let her fall in. That was even better than needing him to jump in after her.
She took his hand and waited for him to lead her down the dock. “I’m not walking beside you,” she asserted. “I’m going to stay back here, right in the middle of the dock.”
“You do that.” Zack made sure to keep a slow pace so Rachel wouldn’t worry about losing her balance and falling over. “I promise you that you don’t even notice the floating.”
“Why did you say that!” Now she would definitely feel it!
“Come on.” Zack wrapped his arm around her and half-hauled her down the dock. “The sooner we get there, the sooner it’s over!”
What an asshole! He really didn’t get it, huh? Rachel wasn’t simply a little wary of being near water. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust him to take care of her should anything happen. It wasn’t even the actual fear of drowning that got to her. No, what she couldn’t stand was the potential. The possibilities. The evil thoughts flooding her overactive imagination. The flashbacks to when she was five and seeing her short life flashing before her eyes. People who loved the water, who went on and on about being in it, a part of it, wanting to center their lives around living near it… they didn’t get it. They would never understand the terror that flashed before Rachel’s eyes when she came this conceivably close to falling in.
“Wait!” Her feet ceased to function. “Oh my God!”
“We’re almost there.”
Was this really the same man she almost slept with the night before? Holy shit, I totally dodged a bullet! No man kissed well enough to make up for this! No wonder she had made a vow to stay away from men in the bedroom. It was already working out for her!
“Stop!”
Zack only stopped when he became fed up enough to turn around and loom over her frightened form. “Seriously? What’s wrong with you?”
Don’t give me the attitude. Rachel had half a mind to leave right now. She even turned around, intent on marching back to the ramp and the busy avenue above them. Except they were halfway down the floating dock, and no matter where she turned, where she looked, or how she moved, she was surrounded by water.
Her breath escaped her body. Just as good as drowning.
“Rachel,” Zack said in that commanding tone of his. “My yacht is seriously right there. I swear upon my mother’s future grave that you are not going to fall in. I will carry you up the ladder myself.”
“There’s a ladder?”
“Well… yes?” Zack shrugged. “It’s the most efficient way to get on and off vessels of this size. Only the really big yachts have ramps around here.”
“A ladder!”
“Rachel…” He clasped his hand around her wrist, enough give granting her the power to get away if she truly wanted to. “You have nothing to fear when you are with me. I know these docks above and below water. I practically grew up around here. I’ve been on boats my whole life. My yacht is my second home. Nothing will happen to you. The only way you’re touching water is if you jump in yourself.”
Rachel was ready to snap something back at him. But I want hm to be right. She was still mad that he had brought her out here. Still mad that he wasn’t taking her fears seriously. But she would rather have confidant, pompous Zack than one who didn’t acknowledge her at all.
“Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Can I close my eyes and you lead me there?” A ripple of water suddenly reminded her that they were on a floating piece of wood. “Oh my God. Right now. Let’s go right now.” She clamped her eyes shut. “Right now! Please!”
Zack gently tugged on her wrist. “This way, Rachel. We’re almost there.”
When Rachel opened her eyes again, she gazed upon a medium-sized vessel called the Priss & Moan. Cheeky. But not as cheeky as the steep ladder Zack gestured to as if Rachel should shimmy her way up there like she did it every day.
“Ladies first. I’ll be right behind you.”
Great.
“You’re not going to let me fall down, right?”
“Absolutely not. That’s why I’m going to be behind you.” Zack cast his voice upward. “Hey! Uncle Roy! You up there?”
A head of scraggly white hair looked over the edge of the boat. Tanned wrinkles spoke of a man who had spent way too many years at sea. “That your lady friend, son?”
Son? This was not the kind of man Rachel expected to be Zack’s dad…
“She’s coming up first! Could you help her over the edge when she gets there?”
Roy saluted them. “See you in a bit, sweetheart!”
Rachel sighed. She might as well get this over with. She had made it this far, hadn’t she?
She took the ladder one rung at a time, sure to place her feet solidly on the metal bars as she slowly pulled herself up and refused to look down. She kept her eyes above her and on the angular face of Roy Feldman. Or at least that’s who she assumed it was.
“I got ya!” Roy grabbed her arms before she had the chance to say hello. “One, two!”
She shrieked when she was pulled over the edge. Behind her, Zack chastised the other man for being too rough with his friend. “Come on, Uncle Roy! She doesn’t have any sea legs!”
“You’re telling me.” Roy put his arms akimbo as he got a load of Rachel’s shaking legs. The boat was floating, rocking gently back and forth. Was that supposed to be soothing? Because fuck this! “She looks like she’s going to throw up.”
Close. More like pass out, which was what Rachel promptly did when the next incoming tide rocked the boat enough to give her motion sickness. Goodbye, world.
She collapsed into Roy’s lap the moment he sat down on a lounge chair. Unlike Zack, who had promised to catch her should she fall, Roy had made no such statements. So Rachel landed right on the deck, nose smashing against a pile of ropes.
It only hurt long enough for her to officially pass out.