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“How do you . . . when do you have time to work out to look like that?”
I’d pretend not to appreciate her appraisal, but I’m not that humble.
“I make time for things that are important.”
Her expression changes. If Ada reads into that, good.
“You getting in?” I ask.
Realizing it might be easier for her to disrobe if I’m not standing right next to her, waiting as impatiently as a kid on Christmas morning, I step into the warm water. By the time I turn around, her body is on full display in a bright yellow bikini.
Breathe, Hayden.
I’m thankful my lower half is fully submerged in a hot pool of water.
“Can I get you a drink?”
Poolside waiter, perfect.
“Do you guys still have that frozen one that’s half red and half white?” Ada asks, lowering into the water.
He apparently knows exactly what Ada is talking about. “A Raspberry Dream? Sure. One or two?”
I have no idea what a Raspberry Dream is, but I nod anyway. “Two.”
Claiming a private corner, we keep a small distance between us.
“So. I now know your favorite movie and ice cream flavor and vacation destination, but what I don’t know is what you want out of life. What makes Ada Flemming tick?”
Resting her arms outside the hot tub, she thinks. While I stare at the pile of hair in her topknot for fear of looking down farther and embarrassing us both.
“What makes me tick? I don’t know.”
“What would make you look back in ten years and say, ‘Well done, Ada?’” It’s kind of an interview question, I realize, but I really am interested in hearing her answer.
I can’t help but notice the way she scrunches up her nose when she’s concentrating. My hands itch to touch her, to remember the feel of this woman. And her lips. And her body.
“I guess if I’ve made my family proud. Well, mostly my dad, if I’m thinking professionally. Then I’d be happy.”
I’m not surprised by her answer—she’s telling me exactly what she thought I would—but I say, “Not good enough.”
Her jaw drops. “Wait, what? It’s my answer! You can’t challenge it.”
“I most certainly can. It’s a nonanswer.”
“Uh. No, it’s not.”
“OK, it’s an answer. But not a complete one. Is making your father proud really the only metric you care about? The only thing that will make you feel good about your life?”
Our drinks arrive, and I give the waiter my room number.
Ada makes a face.
“I think the fact that we’re sitting in a hot hub, half naked, makes me buying you a drink the least of our concerns.”
Another couple moves out of the hot tub, leaving it to us, another couple, and a group of three girlfriends.
“Fair enough.”
