30
“MILLEN.” FINGERTIPS TICKLEDmy cheek like raindrops.
“Mmm?” I forced my eyes open to find Mack crouched next to me, fully dressed. I’d passed out last night in his bed after too many Bloody Marys on the boat, and sleep had come hard and fast.
“Rise and shine!” Judging from the fog outside the window, it was overcast today, but his beaming face easily took the sun’s place. Even in my half-awake state, the sight of him still melted me. I reached a hand up and stroked the rough edge of his jaw, admiring the light stubble on his chin, the crook in his nose that was only visible from certain angles, and the sunspots that freckled his skin.
What I wouldn’t give to wake up to this view every morning; to replace the gray Boston skyline with Mack’s warm eyes. The thought of Boston brought back with it my simmering anger at Amaya’s total disregard of my Alewife email.
“You are way too chipper for this early in the morning,” I croaked, grabbing a pillow and slapping it down over my head. But it wasn’t Mack I wanted to drown out as much as the anxiety creeping into my brain at the thought of what awaited me back home.
He responded by digging around until he found my earlobe and tugged on it playfully, proving my point.
“It’s already eight o’clock! Don’t you have big plans today to put together our dessert party spread?”
“Come back to bed for, like, a minute,” I begged. The mattress bounced as he slid in next to me, scooting his head close to mine under the pillow so his chin pressed against my shoulder, his breath sweet on my skin. “I’m not meeting Marla until eleven.”
She and Steve had agreed to let me rummage through what was left in the dining hall kitchen to put together a massive ice cream sundae bar and had promised me a box of wish boats for tomorrow night’s final camp tradition.
I’d be able to leave here on Saturday morning with all the to-do items on my camp list checked off, but for the first time in so long, nothing about completing it left me feeling accomplished. Being here, with Mack and my friends, wasn’t something I wanted to be over.
“Well, that gives us two hours to hang out,” he said.
“I need coffee first,” I said, scooting around until we were nose to nose. “And—” I reached a cupped hand up to my mouth, exhaling. “To brush my teeth.”
“What are you talking about?” He ran his hand up the side of my stomach, tickling my ribs. “I love the smell of your morning breath.”
I grabbed the pillow behind our heads and smushed it against his face, squinting at the light splattered across the wall.
“Well, I like the smell of your body odor, so I guess we’re even,” I said, sliding over to the side of the bed and rising with a stretch of my arms.
“Wait, you do?” he asked, propping himself up on his elbow. “I think we need to dig into this, Millen.”
“Can we analyze it over coffee?” I asked, pulling on a pair of borrowed sweats.
“Absolutely.” Mack nodded toward the ladder. “I have coffee and bagels waiting for you. Also, I bought some heavy cream. That’s how you like your coffee, right?”
It was this that woke me up. Not the promise of coffee, though I was freaking psyched to pump my body full of caffeine. It was this vision of Mack waking up early and running out to buy me something as simple as heavy cream, because he knew it would make my life exponentially better. I’d never even mentioned that this was how I liked my coffee, but somehow, he’d noticed.
Once downstairs, I shuffled toward the French doors, swinging them open to take in the outside world. The sunshine was working its way through the sheet of gray covering the sky, and a few scattered rays bounced off the water, glimmering like crystals in the morning light. I took a deep inhale of the crisp morning and turned back into the boathouse to see Mack studying me from the kitchen sink.
If all I did today was stare at the water—and his face—it would be enough.
“Earth to Clara Millen!” Mack’s voice was low and insistent, and he beckoned me toward him with a wave, butter knife in hand. “Your bagel’s ready.”
“Sorry,” I said, sidling up next to him at the counter. “I think I forgot what I was supposed to be doing.”
“Running the world? Making fun of me? Taking your clothes off?” He slid a steaming mug toward me before reaching up to tug gently on a strand of my hair, twisting it like a ribbon before tucking it behind my ear. “I have more ideas, if you want them.”
“Not to insult your genius, but right now I just want to eat,” I said as I reached for a bagel.
“Eat. Then nakedness?” He scrunched his face in deep thought, like he was considering the idea. “It’s not like we have anything else to do today.”
“Um, excuse me, I have a dessert party to organize,” I mumbled through a mouthful of soft, doughy deliciousness. “I need to make sure we have enough ice cream and chocolate sauce for seven people.”
“Fine, I guess I have no choice but to go run errands then. I need to buy boxes so I can start packing.” He reached out a hand, pulling me up to stand. “Come on, let’s go eat on the deck.”
“This is so freaking good.” I waved the bagel in his face as he led me outside. “We have bagels every Friday morning at work from what’s supposed to be the best bagel shop in Boston, and these are a billion times better.”
“Side hustle of one of the dining hall cooks,” Mack explained as he bent down and grabbed a faded sailing rope off the dock, absentmindedly twisting it into a knot. “Kai. She sells them at the farmer’s market in town too.”
“Well, if this Brad knows what’s good for his new resort, he’ll hire her,” I muttered. I waited for a moment, expecting Mack to chime in, but he stayed quiet, curling the cloud-colored, braided rope around and around, knotting and unknotting, a puzzle he could solve in his sleep.
“You’re feisty today,” he said finally, turning in his chair to face me. “Did something set you off? Besides, you know. Brad.”
He cocked his head in my direction, eyes widening, daring me to reminisce about the way I’d pushed him up against the ladder in the boathouse last night, yanking his boxers down as I slid onto my knees in front of him.
“I know what you’re trying to get me to say, Mackenzie Sullivan,” I said, reaching down to grab my mug of coffee off the deck. I picked a tiny fly out of it before taking a slow, deliberate sip. His eyes never left my face.
“Wow, Millen, you really do know me well,” he said, chuckling.
“And also yes, something did set me off, but not what you’re getting at.”
He tilted his mug toward me with a nod, giving me room to vent. His face was so open, inviting. I was amazed at how willing he was simply to listen. He didn’t seem to fear my vulnerability, and this realization unleashed an overwhelming sense of relief inside of me.
I felt safe with him.
I didn’t want Saturday to be the end of this, of us.
“So,” I said finally. “I sent my boss—”
“Burnout boss?” he interrupted.
“Yes.” I chuckled, taking another sip. “That one. Her name’s Amaya.”
“One sec,” he said, gesturing at me to pause as he stood and positioned his chair precisely, so that he faced me instead of the lake.
“Okay, I’m ready.” He crossed his legs and brought the mug to his mouth, watching me with his full attention like a late-night TV show host.
“We have this huge pitch next Friday, and it’s been a total bust so far,” I explained, my voice speeding up into a fast, clipped staccato, like it always did when I was frustrated by something and couldn’t fix it. “But I had this epiphany the other night.”
“Right. You told me about it on the boat.” Mack leaned in a little closer so that our knees kissed and then wrapped his free hand around my calves, urging my feet up into his lap.
“I sent her—Burnout Boss—this creative idea that I had, that would totally ace this pitch. Outlined it in way too much detail. But that’s how excited I was about it! It just seems like something this client would love. In my opinion, anyway.”
“You’re brilliant. I’m sure they would love it.” He said this like it was the most obvious thing in the world, and his unconditional vote of confidence left me feeling warm and fuzzy.
“Well, you’ve never seen me at work, but thank you. Anyway, she blew me off. Had her assistant respond to my message and said she won’t talk about it until I’m back in the office next week. Which, honestly, feels too late. We normally float our general ideas by clients before our big meeting. This is just putting us on a terribly shitty deadline.”
Mack rubbed the back of his neck in thought. “Okay.”
“She’s tossing me a roadblock, just to prove her point.”
“Which is?” he asked.
“That I should be on vacation, and not working this week.”
Mack chuckled as he pressed his thumb into the arch of my foot, gently massaging it. “I agree with her, but I also know you.”
“What does that mean?” I asked. “And before you answer, please remember that my foot is dangerously close to your groin right now, so tread carefully.”
Mack lifted his hands in self-defense with a laugh. “What I mean is, you’re the person who showed up here for the first time in five years and then immediately kicked my ass in a swim race.”
“But my Capture the Flag plan was a bust,” I countered.
“Oh yeah, your plan was terrible,” he agreed, sliding his hand down my ankle as I pretended to jerk my foot at him. “But we wouldn’t have even played if it wasn’t for you making us do it.”
“Hmm.” I tapped my lip thoughtfully. “I’m still debating whether or not I should kick you in the—”
“What I’m saying is,” he interjected, “just send it to the client. You’re in charge of the account, right?”
“Technically, I will be, if we land it. And if I don’t fuck up at work anymore.”
Amaya’s words echoed in my mind. In order for the pitch to be better, I need you to be better.
“So what do you have to lose?” he asked, softly tracing a figure eight around my ankle bone. “Screw your boss. If you believe in it, send it. Be brave.”
He said this matter-of-factly, as if going behind Amaya’s back was the logical answer to my problem. And maybe it was. This was the kind of risky, slightly idiotic but also sort of brilliant kind of thing I used to do at Pine Lake as a kid, before I started living life like it was something I was terrified of breaking.
“That would probably piss her off,” I surmised.
“Which is maybe what she wants you to do? Wouldn’t that signal some sort of new fire in your belly? And prove that her little break idea worked?” he said, giving my foot a squeeze before tucking it back down on the deck.
He bent down and grabbed our two empty coffee cups, heading toward the open doors that led into the boathouse. “Think about it.”
Amaya had said no work emails, but she hadn’t specified with whom. We always emailed with clients as we prepped for pitches, and I had Gabbie Pereira’s contact info on my phone. She’d been one of the most hands-on CEOs we’d ever worked with—even sending us the request for the proposal doc herself. She was probably the kind of client who loved out-of-the-box moves like this, I reasoned.
Do something that scares you. Daily. I’d written. Take risks, damnit! I’m sure I’d imagined myself bungee jumping and skydiving on the regular, things that probably seemed terrifying to a clueless fifteen-year-old. What would younger me say about this version of herself, too nervous to send an email?
Fuck it. I reached for my phone.
Gabbie, hey! I typed. Thought you might like a preview of what we have brewing—pun intended—for your Summer Ale. Looking forward to discussing this in person asap.
I cc’ed Lydia and Amaya, and then, just to shove it in Amaya’s face, added Abe’s name, too, and hit send before I could give it a second thought. The message blasted through the ether, the sound infusing me with an energizing jolt of confidence.
Tucking my phone down by my feet, I tried to settle my nerves by gazing at the water. It spread out before me like a giant slab of glass, perfectly smooth. A loon warbled somewhere in the distance, almost as if it were calling me to join it.
“Hey.” I leaned my head into the boathouse, where Mack was stacking newly clean dishes on the counter. “I’m going to go for a swim before I head up to find Marla.”
He nodded. “I wouldn’t dream of stopping you, Millen.”
Then he cupped a hand to shade his eyes and watched as I turned back away from him and into the bright expanse of sunlight, jumping feet first into the water.