The Cabin

“Oh?” Niki challenged. “Tell me, then. When?”

I opened my mouth, but no words came out. Slowly, my lips pressed together, and I shook my head in embarrassment. Niki was right. I knew she was, but I didn’t want to admit it.

“Exactly,” Niki said.

“It’s not that simple,” I said quickly. “I’m really busy.”

“I know you are,” Niki nodded. “And it’s great. Really, it is. Despite my hatred for corporate America, I do admire your work ethic. Your drive is what makes you so wonderful. I just worry that you’ll disappear into your job for too long and by the time you reemerge…”

“What?” I pressed.

“You won’t be you anymore,” she finished. Her eyes were focused on mine with an intensity I knew all too well.

“You know, this was supposed to be a relaxing lunch,” I reminded her. “Why are you being so serious? We haven’t seen each other in ages.”

“Which is precisely why I need to be this serious,” Niki explained. “If I don’t kick your ass from time to time, you’ll totally fall apart.”

“I highly doubt that.” I rolled my eyes playfully at her. “You worry too much.”

“I do,” she admitted. “But that doesn’t mean it isn’t warranted.”

“Fair enough,” I said. “Now, enough about me. Tell me about your new guy.”

“What guy?” she asked with a frown.

“The one you told me about,” I said. “The musician or magician or something.”

“Oh,” Niki laughed. “Him. Yeah, he is no longer.”

“Already?” I asked.

“Already.” She nodded and took a bite of her chicken. “Not for me.”

“Why? What happened?”

“The same stuff.” Niki shrugged. “We went out a few times. Slept together. He revealed himself to be a toad. You know how it goes.”

“Unfortunately, I don’t,” I reminded her.

“No dates?” she asked. She already knew the answer, but it was nice of her to pretend otherwise.

“Like I have the time for that,” I said, trying to keep my tone casual. The truth was, it bothered me more than I let on. As much as I loved my job, my personal life was suffering too much. I hadn’t been on a date in months. Niki was right. If I wasn’t careful, my job would soon overshadow every aspect of my life.

“What about Ray’s son?” Niki asked suddenly, her eyes alive with excitement.

“Zach?” I asked with a shudder.

“No, not him,” Niki said. She leaned forward in her chair. I could feel the energy pouring off her. “The other one. The one in the picture.”

“Sean?” I asked. “What about him?”

“Well, if he’s as attractive as you said…”

“I didn’t say he was attractive,” I interjected. “I just said he fit the brand we’re trying to create.”

“I’m not the board,” Niki said. “You don’t have to whip out the party line for me. You can just say he’s hot.”

“He’s not.”

“I don’t believe you,” Niki laughed. “I can see it in your eyes.”

“I haven’t even met him,” I reminded her.

“But when you do…” she let her sentence trail off into nothingness. With a sly grin, she took another sip of her tea and allowed me to change the subject, but my mind stayed focused on Sean for the rest of my lunch break.

***

When I made it back to the office, I decided to stop in and talk to Ray. I couldn’t wait any longer to find out how things went with Sean. Niki’s words echoed in my ears, but I forced them away. I told myself I was only interested in Sean for the sake of the business. He was just Ray’s son and, hopefully, the new face of Ray Yates’ Motorcycles.

“Hey, Ray,” I said. “Got a minute?”

“Come in,” he said, waving me inside. I walked over to the chair in front of his desk and sat down. He already knew why I was there. “I talked to him.”

“You did?” I asked, sitting up a little straighter. “And? How did it go?”

“Not well,” Ray admitted. “It was a disaster.”

My heart sank, but I nodded. I didn’t want to let my disappointment show.

“That’s okay,” I said. “Maybe it wasn’t as bad as you think.”

“It was worse,” he said with an unamused laughed. “It was a good idea, Tara, but I think it’s time to move on. We should start looking elsewhere.”

“Sure,” I said. “I can handle that.”

“Thank you.” He smiled gratefully. I could tell he was worried I wouldn’t drop the issue. “Jennifer has some headshots for you to look at.”

“I’ll grab them from her,” I told him. I stood up and walked over to the door. Before I stepped into the hallway, I turned around and added, “Ray, for what it’s worth… I’m really sorry things didn’t go well with Sean. And not just for the company’s sake.”

“Me too,” Ray said sadly.

I left the office and hurried down the hall toward Jennifer’s desk. She already had the headshots ready for me. She was on the phone with a customer, but she handed me the folder over her shoulder and smiled. I mouthed a quick “thank you” and took the folder back to my office.

The second I opened it, I knew we were screwed. Every model was picturesque and gorgeous. They all had blue eyes and black hair. Just like Sean’s. But none of them shared the same gruff, manly quality that Sean’s picture seemed to embody. A few of them went so far as to pose on a motorcycle, but every single one of them looked uncomfortable. Their faces were contorted awkwardly as they tried to smolder at the camera. Some of them were so bad, I couldn’t help but laugh.

I threw the last one down on my desk and sighed deeply. I wasn’t sure what Ray expected me to do. None of these models fit the bill. Sure, they might work if we had no other choice, but I wasn’t sure they would have the desired effect. Having grown up around bikes and men that loved them, I knew exactly what our customers would think of these men. They would take one look and dismiss them as fake. We would lose their respect even more than we already had.

After a few minutes of wallowing, I dove back in. I was determined to find one model, just one, who could be made to look halfway decent. Flipping through the folder, I pulled out each photo and stared at it for a long time. My eyes scanned the men’s faces and their hair. I looked over their bodies and their physique. I squinted and turned the pictures sideways, then upside down. I searched desperately for a glimpse of the potential I’d seen in Sean’s photograph. There was nothing. Not a single one.

Just as I was about to give up for good, my phone rang. The ring cut through the endless silence and made me jump. I’d almost forgotten where I was.

“Tara Isaac here,” I said as I put the phone to my ear.

“Tara,” a familiar voice said. “It’s Sean Yates.”

“Sean!” My voice went up an octave involuntarily. I shook myself and took a breath. “Hello. What can I do for you?”

“I’ll do it,” he said quickly.

“I’m sorry?”