“Why?”
“Because we’re strangers. Haven’t you ever noticed that people can tell a complete stranger something they would barely admit to themselves? It’s because there is no judgment and no life consequence. I can tell from your fancy phone and nice clothes that you belong in a place like this.” I waved my hand around at the expensive decorations of the resort. “I don’t belong here, and when this week is over, I will be going back to my boring, discount-brand life. When we go back to our real lives, we won’t accidentally run into one another on the street or at the supermarket. You can tell me anything, and there will be no consequence.”
“I wish I could believe you,” he said. His lips pressed together and he aged in the dim light. “There is always a consequence. Always.”
“I give you my solemn promise to never breathe a word of any of our conversations to anyone without your permission,” I said smiling. I wanted to know more about him; anything and everything. He eyed me carefully, obviously weighing my promise in his mind. He wanted to trust me, but something was keeping him in check.
“What would you like to eat this evening?” a young waitress interrupted politely. Jack kept looking at me, trying to decide if I would actually keep my promise.
“I’ll have the jerked chicken please,” I told her, handing her my menu. She wrote it down on a slip of paper and turned expectantly towards Jack.
“The special please,” he said handing her the menu. He smiled up at her before asking, “Can I borrow your pen and paper?”
The waitress frowned for a moment, surprised by his request, but she shrugged and gave him the next blank page from her small notebook and the pen. He thanked her and she smiled and went to place our order.
“What are you doing?” I asked as he began scribbling on the paper. He finished quickly and handed me the now full page and the pen.
I, Emma LaRue, hereby swear never to reveal any part of this conversation with Jack Saunders to anyone without his direct, written permission.
The words were hard to read in his messy handwriting, but I understood the message.
“With handwriting like that, you should have been a doctor,” I said as I examined the words. “I want to clarify the conditions first. It only applies to things said at this table and you have to sign the same promise on the back of this paper.”
Jack grinned and nodded. I bent over the tiny paper and signed it, then turned it over and duplicated the words on the other side before handing it to Jack. He signed it with a flourish and stuck the paper in his pocket.
“I wish I didn’t have to run my father’s company. I wish I could get out of his shadow and be successful in my own right,” he said slowly, his eyes glued to my face, waiting to see my reaction.
“Do you want to tell me what your father’s company does?” I asked, feeling a little confused.
“If you don’t know, then I don’t want to tell you,” he said with a smile. “It is too refreshing to not have to talk business.”
“Okay. You want to get away from your father. That isn’t much of a secret,” I said, unimpressed.
“It would be if you knew him... Alright, I’ll give you a better secret.” He paused, thinking about it for a moment. Suddenly, his eyes lowered, shame crossing his face. “When I was fourteen, I stole a car,” he said. He smiled when I raised my eyebrows at him. “My father and I were at the country club and we were arguing. I wanted to get away from him so badly I stole a car from the valet.”
“What happened after that?” I asked, intrigued.
“I crashed it. Four blocks away I ran it into a lamp post. My father was furious, but instead of punishing me or turning me in to the police, he paid the owner of the car and made the whole thing disappear. To this day we still haven’t spoken about it,” he said. He picked up his water glass and took a sip, his eyes watching me to see what I was going to say.
“So you’re a car thief? And you didn’t get in any trouble? Why didn’t he make you pay for the car?” I asked, genuinely curious.