Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
WILDER
“Let me grab that for you,” I say as Scottie makes her way down her apartment steps and to the sidewalk.
“Thanks,” she says as she hands me her suitcase.
I open the gate to my Jeep and slip her bag in the back. “Do you want your backpack back here as well?”
“Sure,” she says, looking uncomfortable.
Don’t blame her. She’s about to spend eight days with a guy she doesn’t know in a cabin in the Catskills. Screams horror movie. Like everyone in the theater is telling her “No, don’t do it,” but she’s not listening and instead is taking every wrong step down the path of being murdered.
Lucky for her though, I’m not a murderer.
“What about your, uh, your purse thing?”
She glances down at what I can only describe as a cross-body fanny pack. “No, I can keep this up front.”
“Sounds good.” I shut the back of the Jeep, and I’m about to get in on my side when I notice she’s not moving.
“I thought you said there are only certain things you spend your money on.” She motions to my vehicle.
I glance at it and then back at her. “Well, everyone needs a vehicle,” I say. “And I would hardly say a lime-green Jeep Wrangler is forking out the big bucks. Now, if I had something fancier, like…I don’t know, a useless Ferrari, then sure, but this is an everyday utility vehicle.” I study her. “Is this mode of transportation going to be okay?”
“Yeah, and I guess you’re right, other than the fact that not everyone needs a car when you live in the city.”
“True, but my family is from New Rochelle, and when I visit, I like to control my own transportation. I’d rather just drive, because then that gives me freedom, and I’m not held down by train times.”
She nods. “That checks.”
I chuckle. “Are you testing me before you get in my car?”
“And if I was?” She crosses her arms.
“Then I approve.” I move around to her side and lean against the car.
“I wasn’t looking for your approval.”
“How dare I even hand it out then. Shame on me.”
The smallest of twitches tugs on the corner of her lip, but she hides it well.
“Listen,” I say. “I understand this situation is weird, and going to a camp with a stranger might be a little more adventurous than what you’re used to, so if there is anything I can do to make you feel more comfortable, let me know.” When she doesn’t say anything, just stands there and stares, looking very unsure, I continue, “Do you have questions? Concerns? Do you want me to grab you an AirTag to keep on your person and have Mika hook up to it so he knows where you are at all times?”
Her brows raise up to the sky. “Am I going to need an AirTag?”
“No, I’m just trying to figure out how to make you more comfortable.”
“None of this is comfortable,” she says on a sigh and leans to one side. “But…maybe you can answer a few questions.”
“Okay, have at it.”
She purses her lips for a moment and then asks, “Where did you go to college?”
“NYU.”
“What did you study?”
“Art,” I answer.
“Really?” Her nose scrunches. “Oh wait…the expensive charcoal set. Is that the medium you like to work with?”
“Yeah, charcoal is my favorite. I’m pretty good at watercolor, but it’s not as messy. I like getting my fingers dirty.” I almost wiggle my eyebrows but then realize I don’t have that kind of relationship with her…at least not yet.
“What do you draw mainly?”
“Birds,” I answer with a shrug. “I like bird-watching. I take pictures and then I draw them.”
“That’s…not what I was expecting you to say.”
“No?” I ask with a smirk. “What did you think I drew?”
“Honestly, not sure, but birds weren’t on my radar.”
“Here to surprise you,” I reply.
“Yeah, maybe a little too many surprises.”
That makes me chuckle.
“Um, what did you think you were going to be when you were going through school?”
“Wasn’t really sure.” I shrug. “Was kind of just trying to figure things out. Didn’t quite have a clear direction.”
“Then how did you come up with your app thingy?”
“Soda Tracker,” I correct her.
“Wait.” She shifts on her feet. “You came up with Soda Tracker? That’s like…Yelp for Soda. That’s…that’s a huge app.”
I scratch my neck. “Uh, yeah.”
“How did you come up with that ?”
“It was my freshman year, and I was tired as shit most of the time from staying up too late and waking up early for class. I wasn’t a big coffee drinker but loved any type of Coke. Diet Coke, regular, Coke Zero. But I found out pretty quickly that not all Cokes are the same, especially around the city. I’d get irritated when I thought I’d be getting a crispy Coke straight from the fountain, only to find out that it was flat. So one late night, I was bouncing ideas around in my head and came up with Soda Tracker. It allows users to see who serves what brand of soda—which is important—and then it also allows the user to rate the soda, therefore not having to deal with disappointment. It started small, but now it has millions of users constantly rating, offering suggestions.”
“I can’t believe Mika never said anything.”
“He doesn’t say much about me in that aspect. Tend to keep it private.”
She thinks on it and then says, “That’s why you said you don’t date much, because if people find out who you are.”
I nod. “Yeah, people tend to get weird when they find out you have money.”
“I mean, when you casually drop fifteen thousand for a life experience, I can see why.”
“But a fun life experience.” I point at her, making her smile ever so slightly.
She nods at me, arms still crossed. “Why did you sell it?”
“Got bigger than I could handle. I hold stock in it though, and I go to investment meetings often. Now they’re introducing paid services for companies who want to offer the users a unique drinking experience. Influencers are getting on board, and a recipe section is being updated as we speak. Kind of cool seeing a small idea turn into something so large.”
“That is pretty nice.” She shifts on her feet. “So then when you sold it, you retired, right?”
I nod.
“Why did you retire if you’re so bored?”
She’s really going for it on these questions. I kind of like it. “Thought it was what I wanted at the time. But it got old pretty quickly, so that’s why I volunteer a lot.”
“Where do you volunteer?”
“Well, mostly for Green Roofs in the City. Also, on Tuesdays and Thursdays, I volunteer at a few different animal shelters. I’ll take dogs for walks, sit with the cats, clean out a lot of shit. Just started learning how to administer medicine. And then the other days, I split my time between Green Roofs, helping with maintenance and awareness, and then I sometimes volunteer with a few out-of-school STEM programs.”
“That’s…that’s a lot of volunteering.”
“Yeah, but I like it.”
“Have you had any serious relationships?”
Switching gears, okay.
“Not really. Nothing earth-shattering. I had a girlfriend in high school, but she broke up with me our senior year because she was going to school in California, and she didn’t want to try to make it work. I mean, I don’t blame her. She’s actually married and has a kid on the way now. Then there were some girls in college, but nothing that’s worth talking about.”
She nods, her lips twisting to the side. “What do you think about someone who is twenty-nine and lies about being married to gain favoritism in her job?”
“I think if you were able to realize that putting yourself in such a position would help push your career forward, then you’re pretty damn smart.”
That seems to encourage her, because she stands a little taller.
“Music of choice?”
“Anything but hard metal and screaming.”
“Do you listen to audiobooks?”
“Love them.”
“Well then”—she drops her arms—“unless you have any questions for me, I think we can be on our way.”
Huh, it was easier to win her over than I expected. Her standards must not be very high.
“Two questions. Is the money thing going to be weird for you? And what are the instructions for these next eight days?”
A smile tugs on the corner of her lip. “Absolutely not. Kind of find it funny. You don’t give off rich snob vibes…especially when going to Target for socks.”
I chuckle. “Not who I am,” I say with a shrug. “And what about the instructions?”
“Let’s discuss in the car.”
“Great.” I move over to her side and open the door for her.
Her eyes travel up my body to my face. She says, “What are you doing?”
“Being a gentleman.”
“You don’t need to do that.”
“I know I don’t need to.” I keep the door open and nod toward the opening. “Come on. Get in.”
Tentatively and skeptically, she maneuvers into the car. When she’s settled, she glances back at me. I smile, and she nervously nods. As I shut her door, it makes me wonder who made her so jaded.
From the quick rundown Mika gave me, I know he met her at Stockings, she moved to the city recently to begin a new chapter in her life, and she’s not a fan of her current job. Given all those factors, I’m wondering what made her run away from the life she was living.
Not something I need to find out right now though.
Once she’s in, I shut the door and then round the front of the Jeep and get in on my side. Once the address is plugged in, we head off.
“I’ve never been in a Jeep Wrangler before,” she says, looking around. “Very utilitarian. Nothing fancy about it.”
“That’s why I like it. It has everything I need without a lot of the fluff.”
“Do you ever take it off-roading?”
“Sometimes,” I say.
“Do you ever scale rocky cliffs like it shows in the Jeep commercials?”
“No,” I answer as I stop at a stop sign and wait for a lady pushing a stroller to walk by. “But I did drive over a trash can once. It was small, but I felt cool doing it.”
“Wow, really living on the edge over there. My fake husband is a genuine thrill seeker.”
I chuckle. “I am. I like doing things like bungee jumping and skydiving.”
“Really?” she asks, surprised.
“Yeah. Why so shocked?”
“Because you’re telling me that you’re bored, hence this current situation. Why don’t you skydive or do more bungee jumping, things like that?”
“That’s something I do for special occasions. It’s not an everyday thing. And it’s not that I’m bored. It’s that I just want new experiences is all.”
“Yeah, but with your money, you could go off to Africa and help build schools. There’s experience there. Why are you staying here, in New York, when you could literally go anywhere in the world?”
I grip the steering wheel tighter and say, “I can’t leave here for long.”
“Why not?” she asks.
“Because of Mika,” I answer as I stop at a light.
“Oh,” she says, and I can see her working through the information. She knows what I’m talking about. She’s stayed by his side through the mental health struggles he’s dealt with.
“I’m not comfortable leaving him,” I continue. “Not when I know there are times in his life when he looks to me, when he needs me. I could do whatever I want, but being here, close to him, that’s what matters to me the most.”
“I never really thought about that,” she replies. “Makes me think that the chance of you murdering me is now at an all-time low.”
That makes me laugh out loud. “Why do you say that?”
“Because you’re not just a robot in a pair of jeans and a beanie. There’s a heart in there.”
“Yeah, there’s a heart,” I say. “Beating and everything.”
“Fascinating. What’s that like?”
“Thrilling,” I answer.
“Okay, what’s the plan?” I ask now that we’re out of the congested city and driving on the Taconic State Parkway. “What do you need me to do and most importantly not do? I want to make sure I get this right for you.”
“I’m glad you asked. I was talking to Mika, and he was telling me about your improv classes. I really know nothing about improv, so I’m a bit clueless there, but he told me the first rule to improv is you always say ‘yes, and…’”
“That’s correct,” I say.
“Well, I need you to drop that rule.”
I glance at her quickly. Has she lost her mind? “That goes against the very tenets of improv.”
“I understand that,” she replies. “And I’m sorry to impose such a harsh rule, but I can’t have you out in the wild saying yes to everything.”
“What could I possibly be saying yes to? All the camp activities are nonnegotiable. We have to do them. It’s not like you can pick and choose. Trust me, I was looking for an à la carte option when I was researching.”
“It’s not really the activities. It’s more about who is going to be there.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, I was speaking to Ellison on Friday and telling her how we’re headed up to the camp, and she happily informed me that we weren’t the only couple from the office.”
“Oh, is she going to be there?”
“She and the Brads and Chad from the office that I can’t stand.”
“Oh shit, really?”
“Yeah, and Chad in particular, as he’s the reason I’m in this whole mess.” She pauses and then adds, “I mean, sure, it was my big mouth that got me into this situation in the first place, but he was the one who questioned me.”
“Tell me what happened,” I say, curious about the timeline of events.
She sighs heavily. “To keep it short and sweet, everyone was bragging about doing something with their significant other this past weekend, and I felt left out, so when it was my turn, I talked about me and my husband. Well, Chad pointed out I wasn’t wearing a ring. I told him we were going through marriage troubles, and that’s when Ellison pulled me to the side. So yeah, he called me out in front of the company. He’s a dick.”
“Sounds like a giant one at that.”
“Yeah,” she sighs. “So he’ll be there along with his nimrod friends. Which makes things more difficult, because I’m going to have to navigate all of them. Not that anyone talks to me in the office, but there were rumblings that Chad was pulled into Ellison’s office for calling me out. Either way, I wouldn’t put it past him to try to sniff out the fraud between you and me.”
“Sounds like a weasel thing to do.”
“I agree. So we need to be on our A game.”
“I’m in. Just tell me what I have to do.”
“First of all, we should never be split up. As much as we can handle it at least. If they separate us, we can’t stand as a united front, and that’s what these next eight days are about: being a united front.”
“Got it. I’m stuck to you for eight days. Good thing for you I have excellent hygiene.”
I can practically hear her roll her eyes.
“Second, we need to be affectionate but not overly affectionate. We’re a couple on the rocks, but there’s still love between us, potential for us to reconcile. So let’s keep it to hand-holding and pelvis-to-pelvis hugs. Side hugs are for strangers, and kissing is for couples who are not having issues. We’re looking for a healthy middle.”
“Got it. Hand-holding, no kissing, definitely no public tongue action, and crotch-to-crotch hugs.”
“I said pelvis-to-pelvis.”
“Isn’t that the same thing?” I ask.
“Yes, but ‘pelvis’ sounds less vile rolling off the tongue.”
“Don’t hate on ‘crotch,’” I say with a smirk that she doesn’t find amusing. Oh-kay. “What else?”
“We need to figure out what the hell we’re fighting about. What our downfall is. The story we came up with during the therapy session was…a little out there.”
“That’s what happens when you’re flying by the seat of your pants. You never know what might be said.”
“No,” she says sternly. “We had a plan, you veered away from the plan, and then we were stuck with me zipping your dick in a sleeping bag.”
I chuckle. “Honestly, that would have killed at my improv class.”
She looks unamused as she says, “Yes, but we’re not at improv class, so no more dick zippering. We need to find simple differences that don’t make us look bad.”
“Okay,” I say. The weekend gave me more time to consider this, and I knew Scottie would want to hash this out, so I came up with something that should track with our personalities well. “Uh, well, since I’m into green roofs, maybe the bigger issue that we haven’t gotten into yet is that I’ve been pressuring you to travel with me to other countries to educate them on green roofs, while you want to work your way up the corporate ladder. Gives you the freedom and independence of wanting to make something of yourself and makes me look a little dickish assuming my job is more important than yours.”
“Oh,” she says in a gleeful surprise. “That…that could work.”
“And maybe all the other things we’ve been fighting about are just nuggets compared to the larger, overall picture. Like when you’re mad about something, but all the little things drive you to the boiling point.”
“Yes, that’s a good idea.” I see her fully turn toward me from the corner of my eye. “That’s very astute for a twenty-seven-year-old.”
“Just because the number is young doesn’t mean the brain is young. Uh…wait…”
“Nice try.” She chuckles. “Okay, so then we’ll run with that, because I’m assuming there are going to be some therapy sessions we have to go through?”
“Yes,” I say. “They’re not always on the couch like Sanders said, but there are some one-on-ones.”
“Okay, so then midway, I say we bring up that issue, we’re truthful with ourselves, we let him believe he’s working his magic, and then slowly we start acting like we’re falling in love all over again.”
“That works for me.”
“Great. Okay, this could work.” She clasps her hands together and then gasps. “Wait, another rule. You’re not allowed to be friends with the Brads and Chad. I can’t stomach the thought of you high-fiving them. They’re not our friends; they’re mere pawns in the game we’re playing. Got it?”
Pawns, not sure why I find that so funny…and charming.
“Got it. We’re not friends with them. Anything else?”
“Well, of course the respectful rules of sharing a cabin together.”
“Right, no looking, no touching, no snooping.”
“Snooping? I didn’t even think about that. Is that something you normally do?”
I shrug. “I mean, on the occasion. Depends on who it is and where I’m at.”
“Wilder, that’s an invasion of privacy.”
“Well aware, never stopped me. I’m fascinated by people. I like to see what they’re doing, what they’re going through, what kind of deodorant they’re using and if it has aluminum in it.” I glance at her. “Does yours?”
She shakes her head. “I use Native.”
“Hey, so do I.” I point to my chest. “And here you were worried, but we’re already bonding. Nerds Clusters and aluminum-free deodorant. Like two peas in a pod.”