Chapter 6 #2
“I’m not mocking it. I don’t see the point.”
“Does there need to be a point? Can’t I do it because I enjoy it?”
I have no clue how to respond to that. In my world, every action worth doing has a reason, whether it be a goal or a prize. I wouldn’t be here now if it weren’t for the goal of making partner. Courtney’s camp is simply the means to an end.
“Don’t let me interrupt your commune with nature,” Courtney says. “You’re clearly desperate for it. Pretty sure you left scorched earth in your wake.”
Not yet, but I may very well do that the day I leave camp.
I grunt something unintelligible and continue to my cabin, drawing deep breaths along the way. Once my heart rate slows to a nonfatal rhythm, I return Jeannie’s call. She picks up before it manages to complete a full ring.
“Where have you been?” she hisses into the phone.
“Is there an emergency?”
“Yes, the emergency is you’ve been incommunicado. I was worried they tied you to a tree and left you for the crows.”
“They wouldn’t do that.” Well, Hunter and Olivia might.
“Joel and Matt have both been sniffing around. From what I heard, Matt’s client is having to delay their negotiations.”
“He must be pissed.”
“He isn’t happy, that’s for sure. It’s probably a good thing you’re not here for him to torment.”
“Has LandStar called?”
“No, but your mother has. Twice.”
“In less than twenty-four hours?”
“Yep. I suggest checking in.”
“I’d rather not. The service up here is spotty.”
“Sounds fine to me.”
“It’s unreliable. The call might get cut off, and then she’ll worry.”
“Call your mother, Charlie. It’ll take two minutes and you’ll both feel better.”
My mother only wants to ask me about the promotion. She’s probably preparing the speech for their anniversary party and wants to know which impressive details to include.
Unfortunately, I have no impressive details to share at the moment.
By the time I finish my call with Jeannie, leave a voicemail for my mother, and review all my outstanding messages, I realize it’s five minutes to six. Great. I’ve missed dinner and I’m about to be late for the movie.
My hand hovers over the knob as I reach the door. If Courtney is in the movie cabin with everybody else, maybe now would be a good time to search her office.
No. Too risky. Courtney isn’t stupid. She’ll notice if I’m the only one not in attendance and probably come looking for me. If she catches me rooting through her files, she’ll send me packing. Then again, if I never look because I’m scared of getting caught, how do I expect to find anything?
My heart starts to race again. I wasn’t cut out for this sort of work.
I’m great in an office setting, complimenting the morning pastries or charming a new client.
What I’m not great at is infiltrating what is essentially a family in order to destroy their lives.
If I wanted to do that, I would’ve become a divorce lawyer.
I delay my plan until tomorrow and walk to the cabin designated for movie night.
“You-hoo, Charles. There’s a free seat next to me.”
My gaze swings to the left, where Angela is patting the empty chair beside her. An older gentleman tries to sit, and Angela pushes his leg, her predatory smile still fixed on me.
“I’ve got you, boo,” Courtney says, sweeping in and steering me to another row. She sits and hands me a bag of popcorn. “I thought you might be hungry. Missed you at dinner.”
“Yeah, I fell asleep,” I lie.
“Fresh air will do that to you.”
I stare down at the popcorn and, on cue, my stomach rumbles. “Thank you.”
“Welcome.”
Someone switches off the lights and darkness blankets the room. I’d fully intended to look up the movie in advance, but between my mad dash to the cabin and my catchup conversations, I’d completely forgotten. I remain buried in thoughts until colorful animated characters appear on the screen.
“Hey, this is a kids’ movie,” I whisper.
“No, Inside Out is a movie for all ages. You’ll see.”
The characters are personified emotions like Anger, Fear, Disgust, and Sadness.
And Joy. The only one I can’t relate to.
Everything in my life has always been so serious. So Very Important. I prefer the version of childhood that’s on the screen.
As the credits roll, I wipe a stray tear from my eye and hope I was discreet enough that no one notices.
“Hits you in the feels, right?” Courtney’s smile tells me that she didn’t miss it. Of course not. The woman notices everything. She’s like Poirot, Miss Marple, and Nancy Drew all rolled into one adorable package.
Did I call her adorable? Thank God that was in my head and not out loud or I’d never live it down.
“I enjoyed it. Thanks for inviting me.”
“You’re a camper now, Charlie. Everyone’s invited.”
The campers file from the building to head to the firepit, but I’m not in the mood to be social. I decide on an early night and head into the darkness.
“You’re not joining us?” Courtney’s voice catches me off guard.
When I turn to answer her, my breath catches in my throat. Backlit by moonlight, she’s practically aglow. The effect is stunning.
I force myself to speak. “Not tonight. See you in the morning, Cricket.”
I swear under my breath as I turn away. I called her Cricket instead of Courtney. The woman is getting under my skin. I can’t have that.
I change course and stride toward her office. It’s now or never. If there’s leverage to unearth, now’s the time to find it.
“Beautiful night, isn’t it, Charlie?”
I ground to a halt outside the office. Adam’s black costume is barely discernible in the darkness. I notice a flash of red and see Chewy at the end of a leash. “It is. I didn’t see you at the movie.”
“Not my kind of story. I prefer space opera or fantasy.”
Chewy trots closer to sniff my shoe, and I instinctively jerk my foot away.
“No need to worry. He won’t pee on them or anything. He likes to sniff.”
I relax and let the small dog continue his investigation. “How old is he?”
“Thirteen.”
“Is that old for a dog?”
“Not for his breed. You didn’t have a dog growing up?”
“No, my parents didn’t want any pets. We were too busy with all the sports and activities.”
“I guess that’s fair. It’s worse to get a dog and then neglect them.” He scoops the Yorkie into his arms. “Chewy wouldn’t let me ignore him even if I tried. He’s very demanding.” As if to demonstrate the point, the dog licks the side of his black mask.
“He seems sweet.”
“Don’t know what I’d do without him. So, how are you enjoying camp so far?”
“It’s great. Nothing like I expected.”
“I saw you at Lego club today. Nice Jaws creation.”
“Thanks. I assume yours was a scene from Star Wars .”
“Actually, it was from Guardians of the Galaxy . Have you seen it?”
“No.”
“The main character is Peter Quill or Star-Lord. He’s a professional thief because of his messed-up childhood. He’s also sort of an asshat, but that’s another story.”
“And Star-Lord is the villain?”
“No, he’s the hero.”
“Doesn’t sound like one.”
“That’s the great thing about this kind of story. The unlikely hero.”
“I’ll bite. How does the thief become a hero?”
“I’m so glad you asked, Charlie. Peter becomes a hero when he develops a genuine connection with others.
In this case, a ragtag group of aliens. They bring out the positive traits within him.
Thanks to their bonds of love and devotion, Peter begins to make better choices, ones that aren’t steeped in greed and misguided loyalty. ”
“And then he stops being an asshat?”
Adam’s gaze flicks to the office and back to me. “That remains to be seen. Have a good night, Charlie.”
“You too.”
He continues his evening stroll with Chewy, and I stand outside the office feeling like the worst kind of human imaginable. I’m not a villain; I’m a good person.
But if I walk through that office door, I’m definitely an asshat.
I return to my cabin and let myself in. It feels strange not to have to unlock the door. Although my house isn’t in a crime-filled neighborhood, I wouldn’t dream of leaving the front door unlocked. It seems like asking for trouble.
Maybe there’s a way to satisfy both parties without subterfuge. I could try to have a real conversation with Cricket instead of trying to cram a check down her throat.
I strip off my clothes and brush my teeth.
It’s too hot for anything more than boxer briefs.
The fan is doing its best, but it’s only capable of circulating the hot, humid air that already plagues the cabin.
Too bad Cricket doesn’t have the funds to invest in air conditioning for the cabins.
I wonder whether she sleeps in her underwear too.
I try to block any further thoughts of Cricket in her underwear, but another feeling is making that difficult, and this one is of the physical variety.
Groaning, I return to the sink and splash cold water on my face.
Courtney Abernathy is a thorn in my side.
An obstacle to mount. A mountain to climb.
Nope. Not helping.
I try to focus on a different subject, like partnership and the fact that Matt’s deal suffered a setback. I still have time to work my magic on…
Forget it. I refuse to think of her. She’s already permeating my every waking moment. No need to add her to dreams too.
I’m still deep in thought about Cricket when I climb into bed—which is why I don’t immediately notice that I’m not alone under the sheet.
My side brushes against something and my body reacts faster than my mind. I launch out of bed, not quite screaming but not exactly mute either. More of a Muppet sound.
I peel back the sheet to reveal an ugly-ass doll with menacing eyes. Is that the Chucky doll from the horror movies? In addition to his blue overalls and striped shirt, he’s wearing a green tie. On closer inspection, I realize it’s a Philadelphia Eagles tie. Nice touch.