Chapter 9
CHAPTER NINE
Nikolas
As much as I loved my job, I was never so happy to see the weekend roll around. The R&D team and I made great progress on our workload. We had a long road ahead of us with the ambitious goals for the year, but it wasn’t my co-workers who had my mind spinning.
Saturday morning, I headed to La Jolla to meet Mike for some much-needed surfing. He was initially reluctant to surf when we became friends, but several years ago, I finally talked him into it. Now he was as addicted as I was.
I was putting on my wet suit in the parking lot when he walked up to me, grinning as if he knew a secret. I waved away a car full of girls ogling me as they looked for a parking spot, letting them know I was staying. One of them yelled something inappropriate out of the window, making me blush.
“You should be used to that by now. What did they call you at UCSD? A Turkish god?” he said with a wink.
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Anyway, ready to hit some gnarly waves?” he asked, tucking his board under his arm.
“How many times have I told you how silly you sound when you talk like that?” I quipped. Poor guy tried so hard to emulate every California surfing movie he’d ever watched. The man was from Milwaukee.
He just let out his signature howl, ignoring my chastisement. One of the many things I appreciated about Mike was his ability to never be offended. It was a good thing because I had to work on not being so blunt over the years.
He, on the other hand, was outgoing, loud, and at times bordering on obnoxious. There wasn’t a shy bone in his body. He welcomed the attention that women gave him, but had never settled down or gotten serious with any of them.
We were quite a pair. But I loved that he never judged, quietly corrected me if needed, and never held it against me. The fact that he accepted me as a friend just as I was had been an answer to prayer.
“Nah, the Cali girls love it when I talk like that,” he joked, watching me grab my board off the top of my Jeep with practiced precision.
A few minutes later, we were walking through cool sand, the long workweek a distant memory.
Spring in San Diego was perfection. Cool mornings, perfect sunny afternoons, and beautiful sunsets.
On the beach this time of year and at this early hour, the few visitors were bundled up in jackets and running from the cold water as it washed ashore.
I had grown up on these rugged cliffsides.
Although we lived quite a distance from the upscale La Jolla area, this was where I felt most at home in the city.
The waves, the fellow surfers I recognized from time to time, and the long pier that served as a backdrop for gorgeous photography made me breathe deeply every time.
Everything got quiet, and I could hear my thoughts better out here.
There was such peace here, but that was about to end now that my best friend was on the hunt for answers. I could tell he wanted to say something by the way he kept looking at me with his signature wide smile and raised eyebrows.
“So, you told her about changing your name, huh?” he asked, waving at a few women as they passed us with wide smiles.
Great. I’d forgotten about the Mayday text I’d sent him last night after my encounter with Leyla.
“Let’s just surf, man.”
“No shot. Your frantic text left out too many details. I only stopped myself from calling because I knew I’d see you this morning.”
“I asked her to evaluate me…”
“Which was dumb, by the way. It’s only been a week.”
Ignoring his interruption, I continued, “And all she had in the way of feedback was to ask why I’d changed my name. Oh, and why I didn’t go to lunch with my co-workers.”
“That’s because you’re a rude hermit,” he teased.
Mike worked in the research department of a medical company that specialized in holistic products, but he never seemed to have the same zeal I did.
I was sure he had no problem socializing with his co-workers, and a part of me envied his outgoing personality.
We found a spot away from the crowd and kicked our flip-flops off and headed for the waves. “Like I said last night, she wouldn’t have asked about your name if she wasn’t at least a tiny bit curious about you personally,” he continued, nonplussed by my silence.
I scoffed. “The only thing Leyla Cooper is curious about is how to make sure I don’t get a permanent position at her company.”
“Doubt it. Not by the way you said she reacted to your high school story, which I’m still shocked you shared.”
You and me both, my friend.
“It was a moment of weakness.”
His loud laugh barreled out of him, scaring away the seagulls chasing a bag of chips.
“Dude, you never have a moment of weakness. You plan your entire month in advance, down to the tiniest detail. You lay your clothes out on Sunday for the week. Your pantry is alphabetized, which I have to admit is pretty rad. You don’t do weakness. You’re always in complete control.”
I looked at him with narrowed eyes. “Mike, you are not a cast member of Point Break. This is not the 90s. Please, I beg you. Stop.” It was ironic that he actually looked like he could’ve been in that movie with his shaggy, thick hair and tanned skin.
That only made him laugh harder as we walked into the water.
The cold sting of the Pacific on my bare feet stilled my frenzied mind.
My wet suit protected me from the frigid water, but I would get in even without it if I had to.
There was something powerful about standing before this endless ocean that beckoned to me.
It was always like this when I surfed. Even when the waves didn’t cooperate, just being out here steadied me in ways nothing else did.
The water was my sanctuary, a place where I could appreciate God's beauty.
I felt so small compared to His creation, yet so much a part of the story He was writing in this world.
Mike looked at me curiously as we paddled out, patiently waiting, as he always did, for me to process. It was a quality I appreciated more than words. I was a deep thinker. Processing took me a long time, especially when it came to personal things like relationships and people.
There were times we’d get together, and he could sense that the world had become too loud, so we would sit or surf without saying a word. He’d never know what that meant to me.
Side-eyeing him, I finally answered his earlier comment. “She makes me nervous. Sometimes I feel like I’m grasping for purchase around her, wanting to impress her, wanting her to see me.”
“Still?” His tone wasn’t accusatory, but curious.
I chuckled. Besides my parents, Mike was the only one who knew how much I’d fallen for Leyla back in college. That one word, ‘still’, held a lot of meaning. I rubbed my hand over my chest where my tattoo lived. He tracked my movement but said nothing.
Sighing heavily, I nodded. “Yeah, still.”
“Gonna do something about it this time?” he asked, turning toward an oncoming wave.
I didn’t answer him but instead paddled faster toward the wall of water that soon lifted me up, up, up, and pulled me temporarily away from the concerns of this life.
As I twisted and stood on my board, a wide smile plastered on my face, I whooped in excitement. Being out here was the only place I allowed myself to let go like this. The matching smile on my best friend’s face told me I didn’t need to say anything more.
For now, there would be no more talk about work or the fact that the feelings I’d kept hidden for years were making their way back to the surface. Especially since I wasn’t sure what to do about it.
Monday morning came way too soon. Making my way into the lab, I set my briefcase on my desk and straightened my penholder. I liked getting to work an hour before the team to prepare for my day.
Checking emails, I made a few adjustments to the list. Satisfied that I was properly ready for the day, I grabbed my plain white coffee mug and headed out to the small office kitchen that served as our break room.
Passing a co-worker’s desk, I shook my head at the array of coffee mugs with slogans like “Results may vary without caffeine” and “Fueled by coffee and data.”
I wasn’t in the mood to dig deeper into the glaring difference as I stared at my cup. But I couldn’t help wondering what it meant that they put a little of themselves out there in the form of a witty pun on a coffee cup, while mine was blank. Painfully closed off. Unwilling to share.
Pushing those intrusive thoughts away, I walked into the break room.
As I waited for the Keurig to do its magic, I thought about how to open a conversation with Leyla. I watched some TED Talks for ideas over the weekend. I watched them like other people watched reality TV. They weren’t much help in this matter, unfortunately.
I glanced out of the kitchen entryway to confirm I was alone, then tried to tap Google, only to trigger Siri by accident.
“All right then, Siri. Let’s see what you have for me,” I mumbled, the smell of coffee lifting my mood. Fueled by desperation and my internal musings about my stupid coffee cup, I let those walls down a notch.
“Siri, how do I get a woman to talk to me after making her mad?” I chuckled to myself in anticipation of what foolishness was about to spill out.
The familiar voice filled the small space. “Trying to get someone to forgive you. Here’s what I found online that might help. Would you like me to read the top three?”
“Sure, why not?” I asked, opening the refrigerator to get my half-and-half, my cup of coffee in hand.
“Got it. First one. Try apologizing and explaining your mistake.”
“Did not help. Keep going,” I snorted.
“Okay. Second one. When you really care about someone, open your heart and show them what they mean to you. Speak what is in your heart and soul.”
“What are you doing?” I froze when another female voice infiltrated the room.
I spun to face the new arrival, spilling hot coffee all over my fingers. I hissed, slid the cup onto the counter, and shook out my hand as Jaz’s amused voice spoke over Siri, who was still spewing out relationship advice.
“Tell them you will do anything to get them back into your life. Appeal to the bond you share with them.”
I turned, my face beet red, slapping at the offending phone on the counter, but to no avail.
“If you’re in love with this woman, make yourself vulnerable. Explain to her that your words may have caused a rift, but your actions will prove how important she is to you.”
My wet hand could not stop the flow of embarrassing words, and I was about ready to toss the phone on the floor and step on it when Jaz reached over and clicked the side button, blessedly stopping the Dr. Phil lesson.
She pinched her lips closed but said nothing. I was panting and sweaty, and the slight burning sensation on my hand dissipated, as did my pride.
“Are you finished?” she asked.
“F-finished?” Good grief. Was she asking if my lesson in the ways of love was over?
“Coffee. I need to get my coffee before Luke comes in,” she said cryptically. Unsure what that meant, but I was grateful she didn’t say anything about what she’d just heard.
Nodding, I grabbed a paper towel and wiped up my mess, sliding what was left of my coffee out of the way so she could sidle up to the coffeemaker.
When I power-walked out of the room, distant giggling made me shake my head in pure humiliation. Surely, she was a grown-up and wouldn’t say anything. We were all professionals, for goodness’ sake. Plus, we were both from other countries. That had to put us in the category of kindred spirits.
The day was almost over, and no one had said anything, so I was grateful for her discretion. Breathing a sigh of relief, I began wrapping up my paperwork.
At five, Luke knocked on my open office door with a grin. Taking Leyla’s advice, I’d started leaving it open to appear more friendly and approachable.
When I looked up, he said, “Hey, our quality control analyst, Marla, is going to be out for a few weeks. Her mom fell, and she has to go to Arizona to help, so Leyla will step in as much as she can. Thought you’d want to know.”
I frowned, not quite understanding. “She doesn’t need to do that. I can handle the testing myself while Marla is gone.”
“She said she didn’t mind. It’s been a while since she’s had her hands in that part of the process. She misses it at times, I think,” he said. “Also, on Saturday, my wife Sofia and I would like to invite you over for dinner. Nothing formal. Very casual.”
“Oh, that is very kind of you. Thank you so much. Please let me know if I can bring anything.” I was anxious about accepting, but didn’t want to decline because Leyla had mentioned being friendlier. Besides, he was my boss.
He waved dismissively. “Nah, just bring yourself. Sofia, being from Italy, will be cooking more food than we could possibly eat in a week.” Even I could hear the love he felt for her in his voice.
“Great. Please send me the details. I look forward to it.”
He took a step out of the office, then leaned back inside, causing me to lift my head again.
“Oh, Niko? If you need any advice on how to, um, deal with Leyla, just ask. I’ve known her most of my life. And also, never give Jaz ammo she can use against you.” He winked as my stomach dropped, my heart following close behind. I groaned as he chuckled and left.
Kindred spirits, my foot, Jaz Lopez.