The Comeback Route Page 7

  He sat down next to me on the end of a lounge chair. “What about this?” He pointed to my hair, which was a blondish mix, helped along with some thoughtfully placed highlights.

  “That’s my dad, but I don’t know much about his roots. He likes to say he was self-made, but I don’t know about that. I think it was more that he dropped his family somewhere along the way.” He seemed to be pretty good at dropping people.

  “Have you talked to him since you left Michigan?”

  “No.” I looked out at the pool. It had shiny silver tiles on the sides and bottom that made the water look a little freaky. “He made it pretty clear that I was on my own. And I’m doing great, right? Look at all I’ve been able to accomplish!”

  “Very impressive,” Nico agreed. He pulled off his shirt, and oh, it was impressive. It totally was. “Want to swim?”

  “Sure, but I’m not allowed in the deep end.” Bastián had ended up pulling me out, and he had said to stay where I could touch if I went back in.

  Nico took my hand to pull me off the step. “Can’t you swim?”

  “I can swim just fine.” Mostly, I floated, but not always with my head above water. Nico and I walked to the edge, and I watched people checking him out. I was sure that a lot of them recognized him, but they were trying to play it cool. And even if they didn’t recognize him, I didn’t blame them for staring. It wasn’t just that he was drop-dead gorgeous, it was the way he had about him. A kind of “fuck it” attitude, a confidence that told you he just didn’t give one single shit what you thought about him. Maybe it was cocky—I’d definitely heard him called that before. But he had the skills on the football field to back it up, at least he had when he’d played for the Woodsmen.

  “I know CPR,” he mentioned as we got in. “Just in case you’re exaggerating your swimming skills, I’m ready.”

  “I’m sure the lifeguard can take care of it!”

  “I’m sure he wouldn’t mind putting his mouth on you,” Nico agreed. “You looked pretty cozy when I came down.”

  “He was telling me about his career aspirations. I may have another client for my life coaching business. Maybe I should make a website.”

  “Why don’t you see how I turn out first? I’ll give you a testimonial if I become a success story.”

  “You will be a success. I’m pretty sure I’ll have you finished…” I looked at him, considering. “Let’s say late spring.”

  He grinned. “You’re not giving yourself very much time. I didn’t tell you what I did last night.”

  “I read about it. The woman you were with live-tweeted your time together.” I pushed off him with my feet planted in his stomach. I heard him gasp as I went underwater.

  Nico pulled me above the surface before I’d made it too far away. “Just in case you were drowning,” he said. “And I didn’t appreciate the kick in the gut.”

  “You reminded me that I’m mad at you. I made an effort to create a better impression of you last night, taking you out to dinner, and then you went and ruined it by whoring yourself out again,” I complained. “You wasted my time.”

  He just laughed. “First of all, I took you out, not the other way around, and you seemed to enjoy yourself mightily. I did what you wanted today, didn’t I? I met up with my new teammates and had a great workout. I even invited everyone back to my apartment.”

  “Why did they come? They must be pissed off at you for how you’ve been acting.”

  “Why would they care what I do, as long as I can play?” he reasoned. “I offered food, and they came.”

  I would have to remember that technique. Wave a sandwich at a man, make him follow you. “A lot like a pack of dogs, aren’t you?”

  “Dogs?” All of a sudden, Nico picked me up and tossed me. I flew through the air, hit the water, and sank like a stone. I was under for a while before he pulled me up again.

  “I thought you were kidding that you weren’t allowed in the deep end!” he gasped. “You grew up next to Lake Michigan! You really can’t swim?” He waved a hand to the lifeguard. “I have her.”

  I coughed. “I can swim just fine! But not enough to get to the surface from so far under, no, I can’t do that.” He was squishing me to himself. “Let go a little, it’s hard to breathe.”

  “Your bikini top is on the bottom of the pool. I’m trying to cover you up,” he answered, and kicked us over to the side.

  I looked beyond the surface of the water and there it was, the bright turquoise triangles highlighted against the silver tiles. And then I looked down, and there were my bare breasts up against Nico’s chest. “Oh.” I moved a little in his arms. “Oh, yes, thanks.”

  He looked down, too. “Uh, I’ll…you can hold on to the wall, and I’ll dive down for it.” But he didn’t let me go. “I’m sorry. I really didn’t know you’d go under like that. You scared the hell out of me.”

  “You were scared? Me, too,” I said, and put my head down on his shoulder. “You should just hold me for a while.”

  He did, grasping the coping at the edge of the pool with one hand and me with the other. We stayed like that, me cuddled up into him. It was lovely being so close, feeling his breath on the top of my head, his pulse against my cheek. I moved even closer, until our bodies were practically melded together.

  “Excuse me, Tatum?” Nico asked.

  “Yes?”

  “Where is your hand?”

  “Oh, is that your ass?” I inquired innocently.

  He left me at the edge, boobs safely hidden, while he dove down for my top. Damn.

  Chapter 5

  Take a chance. Try something new. Life is like lasagna—it needs spice and flavor! Unless you have issues with lactose, don’t be afraid to take a big bite.

  Yours in dietary restrictions, Mysti

  I peered out the scratched window. “Um, I just passed a cigar store, but I can’t read the name. I’m definitely on a bus.”

  “No, I mean, what state are you in? Or are you in another country?” My friend Daisy’s voice rose a lot at the end of that question. It sounded like she was getting pretty worked up.

  “I’m definitely in this country, because even if it’s called Little Havana, it still counts as Miami,” I said soothingly.

  “So you’re in Florida. Ok,” she said, sighing. “Tatum, everyone has been going crazy not knowing where you are.”

  “I sent postcards along the way on my trip down here!” I protested. “Or, I meant to. I bought them, but they’re still in my purse because I didn’t have stamps. Or know anyone’s addresses.”

  “Tatum…”

  “Daisy, I had to leave.”

  There was a big silence. “Your dad finally went through with it?”

  “He was just looking for an excuse to get me out after…” I hadn’t even told Daisy about what I’d found. “Anyway, he claimed that the email from the college about me failing the class was the final dagger. But I swear, I really didn’t know I had any classes on Mondays. I would have gone, if I had known.”

  “Tatum.”

  “If it hadn’t been that, it would have been something else,” I reasoned. “I had to leave. You know, the real shame is that the class I was missing was called ‘Social Media: Constructs and Identity.’ I think I might have actually done well in it, if I had remembered that I had signed up for it.”

  “Tatum! Stop. Why didn’t you tell me right away what you were doing?”

  “I didn’t want to screw up your honeymoon and mess with that cloud of sex-happiness that you were both floating along on together! And I’m doing really well, Daisy. I’m perfectly fine.” I certainly wasn’t going to tell her that I didn’t have any money. That sex-happiness cloud would dissolve like potassium cyanide in water, which would have been bad, because that was really poisonous.

  “Thank you for not wanting to mess up our trip, but you should have told me.” There was a short silence. “Tates, I’m hoping that you going to Florida didn’t have anything to do with the Nico Will
iams trade to the Cottonmouths.”

  “See, that’s the best part,” I told Daisy earnestly. “Because since he’s here, I can live with him, someone I already knew! Isn’t that awesome?”

  Now there was a huge silence. “You’re living with Nico?” she finally said, and I heard her husband echo in the background, “She’s living with Nico?”

  “I am. I’m working with him as his life coach,” I answered both of them.

  “Life coach?” Daisy asked, and again, I heard her husband Knox ask the same thing.

  “Life coach!” I said loudly, and the lady across the aisle from me sniffed and twitched at my volume. “You and Knox know that he’s been getting into all kinds of shit down here, so I’m helping him get back on track. I’m going to make him clean himself up.”

  There was another silence before she spoke again. My new careers were probably a lot to take in. “Just as long as you keep it professional, right?” Daisy asked me. “Please?” It sounded a little like she was begging me. “Just as long as you’re not thinking that you and Nico will have some kind of boyfriend and girlfriend thing. I know how much you liked him, Tatum, and how much you wanted to be with him. It broke your heart when he didn’t feel the same way.”

  “He did.”

  “No, he—”

  “He did feel the same way about me,” I said firmly. “He just didn’t realize it. I know I was upset before, but I thought a lot about the two of us and our relationship, and I’m sure I’m right. And he’s going to figure this out too, and it will all be great. I’m not delusional, Daisy,” I insisted, but she didn’t respond. “Anyway, I’m making a good life here for myself, learning another language and a lot more about other cultures, for example, types of Spanish cookies. Even if Nico weren’t here, I would be doing awesome in Miami. He’s like the cherry on top, and you know how I love eating cherries. And speaking of cherries, Nico’s—”

  Now Daisy interrupted me. “I feel like you’re going to say something sexual about fruit, and I’d like you to keep it to yourself,” she said primly.

  “No, not at all! I was going to compare his lips to cherries. If we’re talking about sexual things and stone fruit, pluots spring to mind. Apricots or plums are more the size—”

  “No, thank you,” she cut me off again.

  So instead, I told her about my day at the bakery but there was a weird beeping happening while I talked. Right when she was asking what I meant when I bragged that I was wearing chancletas to work when she had to put on furry boots, the phone cut off. “Hello? Hello?” I said loudly.

  “You probably ran out of minutes,” the woman across the aisle told me. “I could hear it beeping. You shouldn’t be so loud on a bus.”

  “I really wanted to talk to my best friend,” I said. “Sorry. I’ve been missing her a lot since I moved down here.”

  She nodded. “My bestie lives in Broward.”

  “Is that a long way from Miami?”

  She shook her head, no. “It’s not that far, but I barely see her anymore. It sucks.” We ended up having a lovely conversation about missing our friends until we both got off in Brickell. She went to waitress for a caterer at a party in one of the fancy condos, and I trudged back to the apartment building.

  “You look tired, Evangeline,” Del said as he held open the door.

  “I am,” I answered. “You know, you can call me Tatum.”

  “That’s a nickname for Evangeline?” he asked, but kind of shrugged. “Sure, I’ll call you whatever you say.”

  “I brought you cookies from where I work,” I said, and handed him a little bag. “I hadn’t realized how exhausting it is to stand up all day and talk. You must need a little pick-me-up.”

  Del smiled. “Thank you, Ev—Tatum!” He walked ahead and pushed the button to call the elevator for me. “There’s a lot going on in the penthouse,” he said as we waited.

  “Going on?”

  “I’ve been letting up quite a number of people,” he told me. “I hope you’re ready for a crowd.”

  “Thanks, Del,” I said, and I leaned against the back wall of the elevator, wondering what was happening in the apartment, and hoping it was the football players back again for sandwiches and sports talk. Good, clean fun that wouldn’t make anyone angry on social media. I was very, very tired, and my eyes drifted closed a bit as I ascended. But the doors opened to loud music that made me stand up straight. No, it wasn’t just the Cottonmouths offensive line chowing down in front of the TV. This was a full-on party at four in the afternoon.

  “Did you bring the vodka?” a woman in a bikini asked, weaving up to me as I left the elevator.

  Instinctively, I felt my bag for a bottle. “No, I guess not,” I told her. “Sorry.” What I had brought were a few more of the special carajitos del profesor cookies from the bakery that I wanted Nico to try. I wandered through the party looking for him. No one really needed the vodka here—they were seriously inebriated. I was thinking about dinner, and it looked like most people in the penthouse had already drunk enough for the whole night.

  I wondered if Nico was in the same state. He had helped me re-tie my top in the pool the day before, after retrieving it for me, and gave me a quick check to make sure I was fully covered. Then he had gotten out of the water, hauled me out too, and told me not to go back in. He had left after warning Bastián the lifeguard to keep an eye on me as a drowning risk, and he had been gone when I got up to the apartment a while later.

  Nico hadn’t come home while I was awake, and I had stayed up late, thinking and making lists. He still hadn’t been there when I had left at the crack of Saturday morning dawn to get to the bakery, and his bed was the exact same mess it had been the night before, like no one had slept in it. Where had he been? I had scoured gossip and sports sites on Lucy’s laptop during my break at work for pictures and news, but there wasn’t anything. Which was positive, in terms of my life coaching success, but I was worried.

  I wandered through the crowd looking for him now. I was, by far, the most clothed woman there, even in my strappy sundress and my chancletas, which was the word for flip-flops. Everyone at the bakery was trying to teach me Spanish in between helping customers, but there wasn’t a lot of downtime. Even without my marketing ideas, El Asturiano bakery was a busy place.

  “Nico?” No, he wasn’t in the kitchen, and I was a little perturbed by the people having sex on the stove. Nico and I hadn’t used it very much but what they were doing really didn’t make it seem food-safe to me. I left pretty quickly. He wasn’t in the living room as far as I could see among the mostly naked bodies as I wove through them. I started to walk back toward the bedrooms.

  “Tatum!”

  “Hi, Galen,” I answered. The big guy from the Cottonmouth’s offensive line bent and kissed both my cheeks. “Welcome back. I didn’t realize we were having a party today or I would have invited you myself.”

  “Nico let me know I should come over,” he told me. “I think I’m the only single guy from the team that he’s met so far. All the people Faris introduced him to yesterday went mini-golfing with their families today.”

  Galen snorted a little, like that was lame, but the thought of mini-golf made me smile. I liked it, and kids were fun to hang with. I decided that Nico and I should go on their next outing if the other couples didn’t think we were weird for being there without a child of our own. Maybe we could borrow one.

  “Tatum, I was going to ask if you wanted to go out sometime. I wanted to yesterday, but I didn’t know how things were between you and Nico. He said you were just friends, but he acted strange when I asked him if you were single.”

  “Yeah. Nico and I, we’re—”

  “Then when I saw him just now, I realized that it was ok,” Galen continued. “So, do you want to have dinner?” He smiled, waiting for my answer.

  I focused on the information he had imparted. “What do you mean, you realized it was ok after you saw him? Where is Nico?” I demanded.

  “U
h…”

  I pushed around Galen and through the nudity in the hallway, throwing open doors as I went. My room and my bathroom were both occupied with more naked people wrapped around and in each other. “You’ll have to leave soon, so finish up,” I warned them, and kept going.

  “Tatum,” Galen called, but I charged ahead to the room at the end of the hall, Nico’s bedroom. And I pushed open the door.

  “Tatum?” Nico froze in the middle of the floor. He was holding a bottle of champagne and wearing just his boxer briefs. Which was an arresting sight, but it was mostly the look on his face that gave me pause. Like he had been caught with his hand in the carajitos del profesor cookie jar.

  What also gave me pause was the sight of the three naked women frolicking in his bed, rubbing their breasts together and laughing. “Get out,” I told them, and pointed to the door. They just looked at Nico and didn’t move. “Make them leave!” I told him furiously. One of the women giggled and I turned my back to them before I did something drastic.

  “This is not what you think,” Nico said to me.

  “Really?” I shook my head in disbelief. “Really, that’s what you’re saying, that it’s not what I think? Nico, that is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard, in my entire life. Ever, in almost a quarter-century of living. It’s so stupid, it makes me want to throw up right on our floor and leave it there in a puddle.” I wheeled to stomp towards the door. “I’m out. I have plans.”

  “Tatum,” Nico said again, but I was already in the hallway, where I crashed right into Galen. He had been just outside, listening.

  “I’ll be ready for dinner in ten minutes if you can help me get out all the people having sex in my room,” I told him, and he did, just by yelling pretty loudly that they had to go. I said thank you, locked the door behind myself, and threw all the sheets into a pile on the floor. I added the towels and bathmat, because the people in the bathroom had been moving around a lot and I didn’t know what had rubbed against what. I tore off my dress and tossed that in the corner of the room, then sat in my undies on the bare mattress to see what was left of the money in my wallet so I could go to a hotel. There was no way in hell that I was staying in this apartment while Nico had an orgy—