Victim of Love (17 page)

Kamal brought them over and introduced us all. “This is Travis,” he said, and the handsome black man stepped forward and shook all of our hands. “And Ricky. And Max.”

We all offered our greetings. I shook hippie Ricky’s hand, then moved on to Max, whose eyes did a quick flick over my body as he shook my hand. His smile indicated he liked what he saw, and made me a bit nervous.

“We were just heading down to the party,” Pippa said. “You guys ready to go?”

“That’s why we’re here,” Travis said, giving Pippa a high five. “Independence Day, bitches! Point us in the direction of the drinks.”

“My kind of guy,” Pippa said, and walked ahead with Travis and Ricky. Kamal walked the path alongside Max, with Townsend behind them. I lingered back and walked with Laurie, slinging my arm over her shoulders.

“You okay, kid?” I asked, giving her a squeeze.

She smiled up at me. “I’ll be fine.” She rolled her eyes. “Beck went off on a job. God, I hate being right all the time.”

I kept my arm around her as we walked. “Are you upset?”

She shrugged. “Nah, not really. I kind of expected it. He’s like an addict or something when it comes to that shit. Besides, he was actually a lot warmer this week than usual. And he really put in an effort to be sociable with my friends, which I appreciate.”

Yeah. He sure did
. “Do you think he’ll come back?” I asked before I could stop myself.

“Hmm.” She slipped her arm around my waist. “Knowing Beck, I’d say we’ve got about a fifty-fifty chance of seeing him again, if I’m being honest.”

I nodded, but said nothing as we continued to wind our way through the dunes. The sun was starting to go down, and I could see the bonfires on the beach in the distance, and the sound of random firecrackers echoed overhead, blended with live music from the band.

“Thank you, by the way,” Laurie said.

I looked down at her. “For what?”

“For being so nice to Beck. Whatever you did, you won him over, and that’s not easy to do. He was asking all sorts of questions about you. It’s rare that my brother is interested in anyone but himself.”

I was a little stunned, and more than a little curious. “He...he asked about me?”

She nodded. “Wanted to know how long I’d known you, what I thought of you, if we were close and so on. He thinks you’re nice.”

“Huh. That’s good to hear. He’s...nice too.”

“He has his moments. Oh look, fire dancers!”

We’d reached the beach, and I smiled at the festival atmosphere that started at the poolside bar and spilled over onto the sand all around us. A small stage had been set up on the beach and a band played to the crowd with lots of horns and conga drums. There were two volleyball games going on at either end of the resort property, picnic blankets, people playing Frisbee, life and color everywhere.

Our crew spread like an amoeba, stretching out as people ordered drinks and got plates of food, but then congregated back together around a cluster of tables and cabana chairs near one of the bonfires. Because this beach was exclusive to the resort residents and their guests, it was crowded enough to be fun, but not too crowded to enjoy the many treats and entertainments.

It was a more interesting mix than I’d expected from this place. Dancers twirled balls of fire, a glittery Uncle Sam walked around on stilts handing out red, white, and blue balloons, and the Biffs, Chads, and various tennis ladies partied alongside dreadlocked hippies with hula hoops and sparklers. Out on the ocean in the distance, a cluster of boats were set up alongside a dock where the fireworks would be launched from.

I settled down on a chair next to Townsend, and had just taken a giant, sloppy bite of a cheeseburger when Max plunked down on the other side of me, tossing his yellow bangs back from his eyes with a jerk of his head. “Hey, it’s Olsen, right?”

I turned to him with my mouth full. “Mmm.” Picking up my napkin, I covered my mouth and commenced trying to chew down the food so I could speak again.

“This party’s not bad,” he said. “It was nice of you guys to invite us down.”

I finally swallowed my wad of beef. “Yeah, Kamal mentioned he had some friends coming.”

Max’s boyish face grinned, but his eyebrows pinched into a slight frown. But hey, I didn’t want this guy thinking
I
had anything to do with inviting him down. I wasn’t trying to be rude, I just didn’t want him getting the wrong idea. Had I not spent the week with Beck, I might have been more excited about this potential suitor, but the truth was I was wiped out from that experience and had no desire to be wooed this evening.

Max, however, was rather oblivious to my disinterest in him, and began a lengthy diatribe about himself, how he felt about certain politicians, what kind of car he drove, and which of the party guests on the beach he thought had chosen bad outfits for the evening—mostly the women, who he seemed to have an inherent contempt for.

I nodded politely and inserted and occasional “Huh,” or “Oh, really?”, but didn’t have to participate much in the conversation, as Max seemed perfectly content talking about himself. He used a lot of cheesy clichés like “Money talks, bullshit walks,” and “A man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do”, and overall seemed quite impressed with himself, and confident that I would be too.

He told me he’d originally lived in Boston, but had moved down to Provincetown to work at a bed and breakfast that a friend owned, and when I mentioned that I also lived in Boston, he asked no questions about my life, but instead offered, “The city’s a dump. Now that I left there I could never go back. I need to be on the water.”

He pronounced the word ‘watah’, and while I’d always found my Massachusetts friends’ Boston accents fairly charming, his grated on me for some reason. His inflection was a strange blend, as on one hand he seemed to enjoy sounding like a misogynistic tough guy, while at the same time he had a slight lisp and stereotypically queenish mannerisms.

I looked over at Kamal, who stood by one of the drink huts with Travis and Townsend. They’d abandoned me at some point, leaving me alone with Max. Townsend probably thought he was doing me a favor, but I wanted to scream at him for ditching me. I focused on Kamal, wishing he’d look my way so I could shoot daggers at him with my eyes. I wanted to say,
“Kamal, this is what you think of me? This guy? Really?”

While Max continued to ramble on about his own wonderful life and superior personal attributes, his eyes periodically scanned my body with no subtlety whatsoever, like he was checking out a car he was thinking of purchasing, but wasn’t quite sure it was cool enough for him.

“So how do you know Kamal?” I asked when Max finally took a reprieve from his chatter to sip his beer.

Wiping his mouth with his wrist, Max looked over at Kamal. “I’ve known Kamal a long time. Great guy. His partner, James, keeps his boat in a slip right next to mine. His boat is way nicer than mine because he’s a rich fucker, but hey, he’s older. I’ll get there.”

Pippa approached me with a smile and handed me a tequila in a plastic shot glass with a flag stenciled on it, and I’d never been so happy to see anyone in my life. “Pippa! Thanks. You having fun?”

“Hell yeah.” The clip had come loose from her hair at some point, and it now tumbled down her arms in strawberry blonde waves. She looked like a perfect little elven princess in her colorful sundress, exotic locks blowing in the sea breeze.

“You look great tonight,” I said. “Really pretty.”

She sat down on the sand in front of my chair, and held up her own shot. “Thanks. Cheers!”

We sipped our shots, then I said, “Oh, you met Max, right?”

“Yeah, having fun, Max?” she asked.

Max grinned at her. “Pippa, huh? Is that short for Pippi Longstocking?”

He laughed hard at his own joke, and Pippa smiled in feigned politeness. “Uh, no,” she said. “It’s most definitely not.”

“I’m just saying,” Max continued. “Because of your hair.”

“I love her hair,” I said, attempting to divert disaster.

“No, it’s really pretty,” Max said. “I’m just saying, she could be like Pippi Longstocking’s slutty older sister.”

Pippa’s shoulders stiffened, and my head whipped around and looked at Max. “Excuse me?” I said.

He laughed, and held his hand up. “I didn’t mean slutty like in a bad way. I meant sexy! You’re like a sexy Pippi Longstocking. No really, you’re beautiful. You’re a beautiful girl.”

With a tight, closed-lipped smile, Pippa stood. She patted my shoulder, gave me an exaggerated thumbs-up, then walked away, going to join Laurie where she stood nearby with Kamal’s friend Ricky.

“Ah, I think I pissed her off,” Max said with a shrug. “Women always take things the wrong way. What are you gonna do, right?” He chugged down his beer.

I sighed, wondering if I could walk away from this guy without looking too obvious. Had we been bunched in with others in our group, I’d have done it in a heartbeat.

“I think I need a drink.” I started to rise up, but Max leapt out of his chair and placed a hand on my shoulder.

“No, stay there. I’ll get it, what do you want? Another beer?”

“I don’t mind getting it myself,” I said.

He gave me what I’m sure he thought was a charming smile, but it made him look like a demonic child, like one of those blond alien kids in
Village of the Damned
. “Let me get it,” he said. “I’m a gentleman.”

I forced a smile and sat back down. “Oh, you certainly are.”

My sarcasm flew over his head, and he beamed, then scurried off to one of the drink huts. My eyes scanned the group scattered around, searching for someone to come and save me. Kamal caught my eye, and he murmured something to his friend Travis, then the two of them brought their drinks over and sat down with me. “Olsen. How you doing?” Kamal asked.

“Good!” I said, too pleased they’d come to join me to berate him for setting me up with The Bad Seed over there. “It’s getting dark,” I said. “When do you think they’ll start the fireworks?”

“Not for another hour or so I suspect,” his friend Travis said. “So Kamal tells me you’re a scientist.”

Pleased that at least one of Kamal’s friend had some manners, I engaged in conversation with Travis about my work, and inquired about his. At some point, Max returned with my beer, and wedged himself right down beside me again. Fortunately, with two other people there, his chatter was divided between the three of us, and I got a reprieve from his targeted self-aggrandizing rambling.

My eye was drawn to the sand nearby, where Townsend had put Pippa on his shoulders. I chuckled as the Uncle Sam on stilts ambled over and offered her a balloon. And that’s when I saw Beck, leaning against the bar, chatting with Laurie and Ricky, his gorgeous grin making my stomach clench.

It was the first time I’d seen Beck in jeans, and he looked so good I wanted to throw up. In a soft, forest green tee shirt with some sort of pyramid design on the front, he was luminous in the falling sunset, tanned and gorgeous, radiating with that magnetic
thing
that was exclusive to Beck, that draw that nearly had me rising out of my chair to run to him.

In an instant, I wanted him so badly it caused me near physical pain, slamming down all my prior trepidations, pushing aside my convictions about what a bad idea he was, forgetting, or rather not caring that he was bugshit crazy and had ordered me out of his room last night. I wanted to go to him, fall to my knees, and beg him to run off with me and play make believe again, to tell me he loved me just one more time, whether it was genuine or not, I didn’t care.

And that’s when he caught my eye, that moment when all my feelings, raw and naked, likely showed in my expression.

He held my gaze for a long moment, then murmured something to Laurie, and started toward me. As he approached, his wide grin appeared, and I smiled back at him, my heart skipping a beat.

“Mr. Westergard,” he said quietly as he stopped before me. “How are you this evening?”

My eyes widened. “Mr. Turner. And when did you learn my last name?”

He sat down on the sand in front of me. “I interrogated Laurie for it.” He glanced around. Kamal, Travis, and Max were engaged in conversation with each other. Looking back at me, Beck lowered his voice. “How was your day?”

“Okay,” I said. “Went jet skiing. How was yours?”

He smiled. “Good and bad.” He took a sip from a clear plastic cup. I assumed it was ice water, but then I got a whiff of peppermint.

“Uh oh,” I said. “You drinking Schnapps?”

He smiled. “I am.”

“Hope I’m not gonna find you asleep in the ocean again later.”

“Nah.” He shrugged. “Peppermint Schnapps is the only thing I can really stomach when I know I’m going to be having more than a couple drinks.”

Max cackled beside me. “Peppermint Schnapps is a girl’s drink,” he said.

Beck did a double take at Max, but his attention quickly turned back to me, ignoring him. “You got some sun today,” he said. “Looks good.”

“Thanks.”

When Max’s insult caused no reaction, he appeared annoyed, and turned his attention back to Kamal.

“I have something for you,” Beck said.

“You do?”

His smile melted me. “I do.”

“What is it?”

He reached behind him and pulled something out of his back pocket, then handed it to me. My mouth opened as I stared at the thin gold nun statuette I’d bought at the antique shop. “How did you get this back?” I asked. “You gave it to Quinn.”

“Hey Olsen,” Max said, grabbing the nun from my hand. “What are you doing with this dildo?” He cackled, examining the statuette.

“What a coincidence,” Beck said, looking at Max. “I was
just
about to ask Olsen the same question.”

A laugh snorted out of me. I looked down, trying to hide it in a fake cough.

Max went still, and glared at Beck. “Dude. Did you just call me a dildo?”

Beck gave Max his giant grin. “I did,” he said. He pointed at Max. “You’re a quick one.”

I could tell Max was disarmed by the smile, but at the same time trying to analyze whether or not he was being made fun of. “You trying to be smart?” he asked Beck.