“On behalf of Seattle PD, I'd like to apologize for how this went down,” Phillips says. “You understand though, dark night, the heat of the moment. These officers were just doing their jobs.”
I glare at them both again, still salty about the attack, but also about being cuffed and stuffed in the back of a car without reason. But, now that the situation is defused, and I'm thinking a little more clearly, I understand their actions a little bit better. They have a tough job.
“I understand,” I say. “It was a tricky situation.”
“Can we get you some medical attention, Mr. Anderson?” Phillips asks. “That wound on your arm–”
“No, I'm fine,” I say. “Thank you though. I think I’m just going to go home now.”
Chapter Thirteen
Paige
It's been a few days since I went up to see Liam, and it's been a little longer since I last saw Skyler. She's busy with Henrik, her hot Swedish masseuse, or whatever. But, with his ship leaving port and Henrik leaving with it, Skyler is going to have to find a new playmate soon.
Which, given that another cruise ship is coming in soon, I don't imagine will be too difficult for her.
“You are kidding me,” she practically squeals. “You actually went up and saw Gatsby? Like live and in the flesh?”
“Live and in the flesh,” I confirm.
“So?” Skyler asks. “What's he like?”
I shelve a few books and run the feather duster over the shelf, doing my normal routine of tidying everything that doesn't actually need to be tidied.
“He's – nice,” I say.
“Nice? That's it?” Skyler asks. “That's all you're going to give me? Seriously?”
I laugh. “What do you want me to say?”
“Details, girl,” she says and laughs. “I want details.”
“Details? Well, I listened to what you said –”
“Oh, you did, did you?”
“Of course, I did,” I say. “I always do.”
“That's a lie, but that's okay,” she says and grins. “Which part did you listen to?”
I set the feather duster down on the counter and lean against it, folding my arms over my chest and look out at the street.
“The part about maybe me coming at him too strong,” I say. “About me being a little too harsh, maybe.”
“Okay, that's good,” she says, positively beaming. “And?”
“And, I took a bottle of wine to him and apologized.”
She leans forward, looking at me expectantly. I'm afraid I'm going to disappoint her though.
“And?” she urges me.
“And, nothing,” I say. “We had a cup of coffee and we talked for a while.”
A look of disbelief crosses her face and she blinks a couple of times. Sitting back on the stool, she sighs and shakes her head. Like I said, I knew I was going to disappoint her.
“Talked?” she asks like she hopes she misunderstood me.
“Talked,” I reply.
“No, naked, hot, crazy sex?”
I laugh. “No, nothing like that,” I say. “Sorry to disappoint you.”
“I don't think disappointment is a strong enough word.”
“He's actually a pretty good conversationalist,” I say. “He's a lot different than I expected him to be.”
Skyler looks at me for a long moment, as if trying to understand everything I'm saying – like I'm suddenly speaking Chinese or something.
“So, let me get this all straight,” she says. “We've already established that he's a hot guy, right?”
“He's – an attractive man, yes.”
She rolls her eyes at me. “Attractive man is Paige-speak for super-hot stud of a man.”
I laugh. “Fine. He's hot.”
“So, hot guy, hot girl,” she says. “You got to his house, you're alone...”
“More or less,” I say. “His house manager was there.”
“But like, not in the room with you?”
“No, not in the room.”
Feeling fidgety beneath Skyler's cross-examination, I pick up the feather duster again and start dusting the shelves I dusted half an hour ago. I know she'll just keep pressing until she feels she's wrung every last bit of information out of me, so I figure it's better to just get it out of the way now, so we can move on to other topics.
“So, hot guy, hot girl, alone in a room…” she says. “And all you do is talk?”
“We also had coffee.”
Skyler let's out a sigh of frustration and shakes her head again. All I can do is laugh.
“Honey, are you medically incapable of having sex?” she asks. “Or is it a religious thing?”
“Just because a man and a woman are in a room together doesn't mean they need to have sex.”
“It should,” she says and laughs. “Especially when a hot woman is into said hot man.”
I gasp and stare at her wide-eyed. “I am not into him.”
“You are totally into him,” she says. “I can see that into him glow about you. Don't think you can fool me, Paige, I'm an expert on these things.”
I turn my back on her – mostly to hide the color in my cheeks – and keep dusting. I'm not into him, despite what she says. He's an attractive man, yes. He's not anything like I expected him to be. He's smart, funny, and way more sensitive than I would have ever thought possible.
I may be intrigued by him, but I'm not into him. At least, not in the way Skyler is suggesting.
“I enjoyed having a cup of coffee and conversation with the man,” I say. “That doesn't mean I'm going to strip down and bang him.”
“That's exactly what that should mean,” she says. “Coffee is the universal symbol for sex. If he asks if you want a cup of coffee, what he's really asking is, would you like to bang?”
Laughter bursts out of me, despite my best efforts at controlling it. “You are incorrigible.”
“Yes, I am,” she says. “And good thing for you. If it wasn’t for me, you'd probably be living in a convent somewhere.”
I putter around the shop, dusting and straightening shelves as best as I can. Anything to distract me from Skyler's line of questioning.
“Do you like him?” she finally asks.
I turn to her. “I don't even know him.”
She shrugs. “But, do you like him?” she asks again. “Is he somebody you might want to get to know better?”
“I – I really don't know,” I say. “I haven't given it any thought.”
That's a lie. I've given it a little bit of thought. But, I'm not going to tell Skyler that. It would only add fuel to the fire. She's always been concerned about my love life. Or, more specifically, my lack of a love life. Ever since we were younger, she's always tried fixing me up with this guy or that guy, never seeming to understand that I don't necessarily want, or need, a man in my life.
Not that she is one who needs a man to feel complete or anything. Skyler is a very strong, independent woman. She's also someone who owns their sexuality. She sees no reason women shouldn't be allowed to enjoy sex – and talk about it – like men do.
She lives her life with vigor and passion, I'll give her that. She enjoys everything that life has to offer. It's something I've always admired about her. Not something I try to emulate, but something I admire. When it comes to sex, I've always been a little more Victorian in nature. More restrained and reserved. I've tried, unsuccessfully, but I am not a random hook-up kind of girl. It's simply not in my nature.
Which, of course, has led to a hell of a lot of sexual frustration. I have vibrators and all, but it's not the same. They serve a purpose and help get me off when I need it. The sex toys scratch the itch, sure, but it’s still a far cry from being sexually satisfied.
Even still, I’ve never been able to force myself to go out, find some random guy to have sex with and never talk to him again. To Skyler, sex is a sport. When she needs to get off, she goes hunting, and bags herself a trophy. Although some of the women in town judge her for it, I don't. She's right in that there is nothing wrong with a woman owning her sexuality.