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She looked fucking insanely good, as usual. She wore a pair jean shorts that showed off her incredible legs, a light white blouse, and a big pair of dark sunglasses. Effortlessly beautiful no matter what she wore.
I opened the door, and she was in, and we were off.
“Hey,” I said. “Good to see you.”
“Yeah,” she said. “Same.”
There was some definite tension between us, and part of me was worried that she was about to let me know she wanted to end this thing, whatever it was.
Then I caught myself—wasn’t the whole point of what we had that it’d be fun, no stress, no feelings? I was going back on my own arrangement.
“Anyway. The bag has been secured, and all we gotta do is eat and chill out. You think you can handle that?”
A small smile appeared on her lips, one that seemed half-sincere and half-forced. “I think I’m up to the challenge.”
“Good,” I said. “Because eating Mexican food and taking in a view isn’t for the faint of heart.”
Another smile.
“I was thinking Griffith Observatory for today’s excursion. You down?”
“I’m down.”
And that was that. We passed the drive in silence, and I put on some house music to fill the air. I couldn’t tell what was up with her, if she was nervous or scared or simply hungry. Hard to say.
About twenty minutes later we were parked in front of the observatory, the place full of the mild bustle you’d expect on a gorgeous Saturday afternoon. Wouldn’t be the best place in the world for an, ah, after-lunch snack, but I got the sense she was more in the mood to talk.
We climbed out of the car and were soon seated on the grass, the mild breeze offsetting the anticipation I felt in my gut. I wasn’t scared or anything, more worried that something was wrong with Shania.
“So,” I said. “Let’s hear it.”
She unwrapped the foil of one of the al pastor tacos, picked up the lime wedge that came with it, and held it in her hand.
“This isn’t easy for me to say,” she said. “But I’ve been doing a lot of thinking…”
Sure as hell sounded like a breakup. Or whatever the equivalent would be for something like this.
“Yeah?”
“And…”
Another sigh. “The answer is ‘yes’.”
At first I was confused—what the hell I had asked her about? But then it hit me.
“You mean about the spa? You’re down?”
She nodded, a small smile appearing on her perfectly shaped lips.
“I’m down,” she said. “I’ve been spending the last few days going back and forth about it, weighing all the pros and cons and all that.”
“As a good decision-maker should.”
“And at first I was totally adamant about what I’d said to you when you made the offer,” she said. “I mean, don’t get me wrong—I knew right away that it was so fucking nice and generous of you. I don’t want you to think I’m ungrateful.”
“Sure.”
“But I’ve always been so independent, so determined to go it on my own. I mean, I always felt like that if you didn’t accomplish anything with your own two hands, did you really accomplish it at all?”
“I can see that,” I said. “But nothing happens in a vacuum. We all need each other.”
Another nod. “That’s right. And that’s what I decided. After all, you’re not offering this because, I don’t know, it’s a nice thing to do, right? I mean, it is, but still.”
I shook my head. “No,” I said. “I’m offering because I believe in you. You’ve got a dream, you’ve got the drive, and you’ve got the talent. And it kills me to see you floundering like this.”
Her eyes softened, and she bit down slightly on her bottom lip after I spoke. Then she quickly looked away and cleared her throat, as if she’d been getting choked up.
“Anyway,” she said. “I realized that I wasn’t simply being independent. I was being stubborn. And stupid. I mean, when the hell was an opportunity like this going to come along again? One that doesn’t have any, um, strings attached.”
I cocked my head to the side, curious as to what she’d meant by that. But before I could give it too much thought, she went on.
“You believe in me, and you’re making me an offer I can’t turn down, so I’m not going to. I want to do it. And I want you to be there with me when I do.”
“Good,” I said. “Because I’m planning on taking a really active role in the whole thing, especially the interior design. How do you feel about a Turkish Bathhouse theme? Like guys in towels and—”
She let out a laugh and jabbed my arm.
“Seriously,” I said. “I’m here with you all the way.”
As soon as I said the words, I realized I meant them more than in a business sense.
But before I could say or do or think anything else, Shania pulled me into a kiss.
