Chapter 4Jack
Chapter 4
Jack
“Hello, Honolulu!” Corinne says, mimicking a chirpy voice. Then she looks up from her phone. “I’m serious. That’s how it starts.”
I take a pull of my Corona with lime. “What is this, again?”
It’s now nearing five o’clock. I went for a run to burn off some Jess-is-getting-married steam and then went for a swim in the surf. That didn’t completely cure my funk, but diving under ten-foot waves did help a little. Being active took away some of the sting.
I arrived at the pool area a few minutes ago, ready to relax. This will definitely be my home base for the next six days.
It’s awesome.
The beers are cheap. The chairs are comfy. The view is superb.
The ocean stretches beyond the ribbon of white sand that borders the resort. Across the pool from me, that beauty from the lobby lies stretched out on a lounge chair, her hat pulled low over her face.
Man, her body is fine .
Her legs glisten with tanning lotion. Her bikini is the modest, vintage kind that covers up too much, in my opinion, but it looks cute on her like she’s some Hollywood actress from the fifties.
“Weren’t you listening?” Corinne shakes her head. “I told you; this is the hilarious Craigslist ad Brett just forwarded me. He found a used surfboard, by the way.”
“Only one? Thought he was gonna look for two.”
“You guys will have to share. Brett shouldn’t be surfing, anyway. There are sharks out there. That’s how people get hurt.”
“Surfing is fun.”
“Surfing is dangerous.”
“Fun things are usually dangerous.”
“You know, it’s a wonder I even let you around your nieces, Jack. Keep that kind of wisdom to yourself, please, will you? Ophelia’s already reckless as it is.”
“She reminds me of what I was like as a kid. Always running around and jumping off stuff.”
“That’s exactly what worries me.” Corinne rolls her eyes, then looks back at her phone. “Okay, just listen to the rest of this—it’s seriously so weird, what people come up with.”
She changes her voice to the mock-cheerful one again. “I’m here on vacation and have a request to make. I need a guy to pretend to be my boyfriend for a few minutes a day so I can snap a few selfies daily to send to my mother. You know, like happy-couple photos. So, she thinks I’m part of, you know, a happy couple.”
My lip hitches up. “Man. This is on Craigslist?”
Corinne keeps reading in the same voice. “If you think you could meet me at the Hanu Bay Resort for five minutes daily to take said photos, please message me. NO CREEPS!” She looks up. “She put that in all caps, by the way, so she means business.”
“You can’t just write ‘no creeps’ and expect people to obey.”
“Well, this chick is optimistic. Honestly, I like her style. She needs help, and she’s just putting it all out there. Okay, here’s where she gets down to the serious stuff.”
Corinne shakes her finger and uses a stern tone as she reads off the rest. “This is above-board work, and I want to be clear about that. It’s like a modeling gig, only you don’t have to look like a model. This isn’t about looks, but I’m hoping for twenty-five to forty as far as age goes, just so my mother doesn’t freak. Mid-thirties would be ideal. You must be nice and respectful. I’ll pay fifty bucks per day, so that’s 350 for the week. Thanks for your time.”
I sip more of my beer. “Hm. Okay, 350. Not bad. Someone around here could make some quick cash.”
“How about you?”
“Me? Nah.”
“Why not? She sounds sweet. She needs a hand. If you don’t do it, she will get creepers responding, guaranteed. Help the lady out. Pose for a few pics. What’s the harm?”
“The harm is, I’m here to enjoy a vacation, not deal with weird modeling gigs.”
“Well, I think you should do it. And so does Brett.”
Her last words land with the weight of a heavy bag. I can’t brush off advice from my brother. For all my thirty-two years on this planet, he’s been my best source of advice, bar none.
If my older brother thinks I should do something, I take notice.
“He said that?”
“He did.”
“When?”
“When he forwarded the ad. He said meeting her would be a good distraction for you.”
“He said that?”
She reaches out and swats at the air between us. “I already told you! Yes, he did. Come on, just message her already, or I’ll do it for you.”
With a sigh, I haul myself up to sitting. I slip my Oakleys down over my nose and yank my phone out of my pocket. “If I do this, you’ll let me and Brett both take that board out into shark-infested waters without nagging us.”
“Fine.”
“A shark might circle the board, and you’ll just have to chill out and stay cool.”
“Great. Brilliant, Jack. I’ll watch calmly as you flirt with death. Sounds like fun.”
I grin and pull up Craigslist on my phone. The weird ad is listed under ‘jobs’ in the ‘etc./misc.’ subcategory.
Well, it’s miscellaneous, all right.
To: Job posting 680765f
From: stuntdevil92 @ gmail.com
Re: photos
Okay, first things first. I am a nice guy. I am on a relaxing beach vacation and don’t need to make extra money because I have enough money. Not a ton of money, don’t get the wrong idea. I mean enough to live how I want to live and do what I want, and that’s enough. I’m only replying to your ad because my older brother told me to. His wife is family to me, too, and she made the same suggestion, so here we are. I will pose for photos, but my smile is crooked. And I’m only doing it, so you don’t have to deal with creeps. Because, by the way, they’re out there. So, tell me where to show up, and I’ll be there.
I don’t sign the message. There is no way I’m giving my personal info to some random person on Craigslist.
For all I know, this is a scam.
If I get a reply message requesting my birthdate and social security number, I will wrestle my brother to the ground the next time I see him.
“Done?” Corinne asks.
“Done. If this is a big pain in the butt, you guys owe me.”
“We already owe you. This is our way of paying you back. Come on, how fun is this? You get to meet a woman, do her a favor, and win some good karma. It’s bound to earn you some points with her, too… who knows? She’s here alone, you’re here alone…”
“Corinne, I swear—if you and Brett think you have to set me up just ‘cause of the Jess thing, you have it wrong. I’m fine.”
I’m not fine.
Corinne knows it, too.
She started dating Brett when they were sixteen, and they were best friends before that. She practically lived at my house when I was a kid. We’re like siblings; she can see straight past my tough-guy act.
“You wasted years on Jess,” she says. “She robbed you of time you should have spent finding a wife. And now you’re alone, and?—”
My phone chimes.
Good .
I don’t need her pity. The noise cut her off.
Corinne’s eyes widen. “Is it her?”
I open the message, then nod. “Yeah… it is. Dang. This is happening.” When I glance up, it’s to scan the pool area. “She asked if I could meet her in the hot tub in ten minutes.”
I don’t see a hot tub.
As my eyes pass over the row of lounge chairs across from me, I can’t help but watch the woman in black stretch her arms up. She’s even cute when she yawns. I bet she’s here with a husband and maybe a few kids.
I have to force my eyes off her to keep looking for steam.
“Hot tub…” I mumble. “Oh, shoot. Okay, there it is.”
The hot tub’s teaming with guests.
They’re packed in like sardines.
In ten minutes, I’m going to have to pile in and make painful small talk with some eccentric, desperate woman.
I’m going to have to figure out how the payment thing will play out, which already feels awkward.
Is it right to accept hundreds of bucks in exchange for mere minutes of work?
“This is messed up,” I mutter to Corinne.
She’s smirking, and I can tell from how her fingers fly over her phone screen that she’s texting my brother. “Oh, go on. Have fun with it. I’m telling Brett that his master plan is unfolding beautifully.”
“There’s a chance there will be nothing beautiful about it.”
It’s hard to make out faces in the crowd over by the hot tub. The curtain of steam rising from the bath forms a hazy cloud. Even though it’s too soon to tell, I don’t like what I see.
Couples, families, a handful of women. A few of them look like they’re in their early twenties. One is in her seventies.
If I just arranged to play boy toy for a grandmother, I’m going to do more than get Brett in a headlock. I’m going to give him a noogie, too.
This is bad.
Really bad.
I made a mistake.
“Don’t look so glum.” Corinne laughs. “You’re about to make 350 bucks. Your first modeling gig!”
“I can’t believe I let you guys talk me into this.”
“Go!” She waves. “Get over there already! I don’t want you to be late.”
I polish off the last of my Corona, shove my feet into my leather sandals, and trek to the hot tub.