7. Aida
He feels justlike every guy I’ve ever dated, charming and arrogant and handsome, but probably totally unfocused and undriven with a future that looks murky at best. I have an uncanny knack for finding these types of guys, and I blame that on every teacher I ever had in elementary school. I was the kind of student who the teachers placed next to the bad boys, the ones that didn’t follow the rules, the ones who didn’t listen, the ones who thought school was the place for jokes. I was there to keep them in line.
And nothing has really changed, I’m still drawn to those kinds of boys. Again, I blame my teachers for my poor choice in men. If they had sat me next to smart, focused boys, I’d probably be married already, but probably living a boring life.
I should live a little. I’ve spent so much time making sure I did everything right so I could get into law school. All the studying and the good grades and the LSAT and references, I need a break from all of that. That’s the reason I’m here. It’s the reason I took this job so I could let my hair down and relax.
So, I take him up on his offer.
“Sure. I don’t really have anything going on, so why not,” I say, shrugging, which seems to bother Ben slightly.
“Why not?” he echoes, chuckling. “You make it sound like I’m a consolation prize, like guess if I have nothing else to do.”
“It’s kinda the truth,” I tease. “I could spend it on my own, but I’m sure hanging out with you will be far more entertaining.”
“Well, if you think you have better things to do, I don’t want to hold you back,” Ben quips back, but there’s a playfulness to his tone. “I won’t beg, but just a note, my buddies have all gone for a bit, so I’ll just be hanging out alone.”
“Where’d they go?” I ask, remembering how much fun I had playing volleyball with them.
“Troy has a few interviews in New York and Jason headed to meet up with a few of our other friends who are partying in the Keys.”
“Ah, so one is responsible, and the other is just like you, huh?” I joke, but also kind of admiring the who-gives-a-shit attitude of the guys. I’ve never lived my life like that, and I wonder if I ever will.
“Maybe Troy would be more your speed,” Ben says, and there’s a twinge of jealousy that floats between us. “He’s crazy smart and will probably end up filthy rich.”
“More filthy rich than this?” I say as we make our way back to our houses, my hand flicking to all the massive homes that surround us.
“Probably on this level, but it will be his own,” Ben replies, swallowing hard, almost like he’s waiting for me to hit him with a jab about living off his parents. Instead, I keep my mouth shut, not wanting to make it seem like I don’t like him or to rub it in even more.
“Tell me about your parents,” I now say, changing the subject a little, curious as to how someone ends up this wealthy. I have no concept of it, not that my parents didn’t do well. I never overheard quiet conversations that indicated my parents were worried about money. Things were good, stable and calm. That’s the life I hope to have too.
“What do you want to know?” Ben asks just as we reach our houses. I’m still wearing my yoga gear, my mat tucked under my arm. If I plan on hanging out by the pool with Ben, I’m going to need to change. It feels ridiculous to sit by the pool when we have nature’s pool right outside our back door.
“I’m going to go change into my swimsuit,” I tell him, not giving him an opportunity to answer my initial question but planning to continue the conversation later.
“Okay, cool. Just let yourself in when you come back over. You want anything to drink?” Ben asks, being quite the charming host already.
“Surprise me,” I say, but quickly add, “And I don’t mean with a roofie.”
Ben lets out a hearty laugh, shaking his head. “I wouldn’t dream of it. Might be a partier, but I prefer my hook ups to be purely consensual. Plus, I like your company.”
“Thanks, I actually like yours too.”
“Don’t sound so surprised when you say that. I’m a great conversationalist.” Ben smiles wide, proud of himself for getting me to admit I like hanging out with him and stroking his already inflated ego a little more.
“Whatever,” I shoot back, rolling my eyes playfully. “I’ll see you in a little bit. Want me to bring anything?”
Ben shakes his head, making his way up the stairs to the house, but he stops, looking over his shoulder, he calls out, “Maybe bring that blue bikini.”
My cheeks flush red hot at his comment, but butterflies fill my stomach, enjoying his compliment even if it has nothing to do with me and everything to do with my body.
I quickly head up the steps, barely making it in the door before I whip off my clothes and dig through the drawers to find a suit to wear. Ben might have said he liked the blue one, but I have a pink one that is even better.
I text my sister, needing a bit of advice if what I’m doing is a big mistake or not. Although Amanda isn’t known for her good luck with men either. She was always the loud and opinionated one, a claim from our mother that she said scared guys away.
She always told our mom that she didn’t need a man because she has a vibrator and knows how to change a tire on a car. It’s a good comeback and it’s the truth. Our mom usually looks disgusted with the vibrator comment. I’m pretty sure Amanda says it for just that reason alone.
Me: I’m about to go hang out with the guy who lives next door. Bad idea?
Amanda: Is he old and rich?
Me: What??!! Ewww, no.
Amanda: Then it’s a bad idea. Think long-term, Aida. If he’s in his eighties, he’s going to die soon and you’ll be left with all his money.
Me: It’s the guy next door. The one who had the party.
Amanda: The one you called the police on? Abort mission and get yourself a vibrator. You can’t fix him, Aida!
Ignoring Amanda’s advice, I throw a beach towel over my arm and make my way over to Ben’s house. I haven’t really been to the store yet and I feel kind of bad about showing up without anything, but we did just eat.
I call out to Ben when I open the front door, but I don’t get a response. Worried I’m going to walk in on him naked or something, I slowly move through the house toward the back. I wouldn’t put it past Ben to be strolling around the house nude since he does spend most of his time shirtless.
“Ben!” I call again, and this time he appears in the doorway that leads down to the pool. He’s dressed in a pair of pink swim trunks that are dotted with tiny palm trees. The pink on his suit is almost a perfect match to my suit.
“Planned this well,” he says, motioning to our suits with a huge smile on his face. “I thought I liked the blue one, but this one is pretty great too.”
“Thanks,” I reply, holding back from making a joke about how he’s actually clothed. Well, semi clothed, which is his normal. I’m starting to think I should take a tip from him because where else can you spend an entire day in your bathing suit and have it be normal?
“Shall we?” Ben says, motioning to the pool and I follow him out and down some steps. Once the pool comes into view, I try not to gasp out loud.
It’s this gorgeous infinity pool that sits above the ocean and the edge looks like it’s spilling out over into it. It’s stunning and fits the house, not that I would have expected anything less.
So this is how the other half lives. The house I’m staying in is also massive and no expense was spared, but this is a whole different level, and it brings me back to my question right before we reached the house after breakfast.
“You were going to tell me what your parents are like,” I say to Ben as I get comfortable in a lounge chair that is covered in the most beautiful fabric, matching everything from the umbrellas to the pillows and the towels.
“Was I?”
“I asked the question and then we got interrupted, so tell me,” I say, leaning back, resting my hands behind my head. Ben holds a glass out to me, offering me a drink. It’s decorated with a lime and a little pink umbrella.
“Margarita?” Ben says, and he clinks his cup against mine, missing the sound a true glass would make, but we are by the pool.
“Look at you, matching the drink to your suit now too. Love the pink umbrella and the lime that plays off the palm trees on your trunks.”
“I try,” Ben says, and I catch a glimpse of a smile at my compliment. “What good is a house like this if you can’t make fancy drinks? It’s fully stocked.”
“I think you’re avoiding my question. I know your dad is an architect, but how about your mom?” I ask, taking a sip of the margarita and enjoying the coldness mixed with the perfect combination of sweet and sour.
“My dad’s a workaholic and my mom pretends she can’t do anything herself,” Ben blurts out, the bitterness seeping into his words. “That’s what money gets you.”
“And this is also what money gets you,” I reply, looking around, the massive pool overlooking the ocean with the house the perfect backdrop.
“They don’t even enjoy their money. They hardly ever come here, so I figure why not enjoy it on my own.” Ben leans back in his chair, taking his margarita with him, he crosses his feet at the ankles.
“I get that. I would be here every chance I got too. It’s beautiful.” The conversation falls quiet, and I feel a little guilty for pressing Ben to tell me about his family. It doesn’t seem like they have the best relationship, especially since Ben has no interest in following in his father’s footsteps.
“How about you? What’s your family like?”
“Definitely different than yours, but just your basic family. My mom is a high school chemistry teacher and my dad sells insurance. I have one sister and she’s in Arizona going to college.” It’s all very simple, like I said before, just a regular family, nothing out of the ordinary. “But I know you don’t want to talk about your family, so tell me, Ben, what’s something super embarrassing about you?” I now ask, lightening the mood. Might as well have some fun hanging out together.
“Wow, that was a big shift in conversation,” he jokes, laughing a little as he takes another drink. “Let me think.” He pauses, tapping a finger against his lips in thought. “Now you know when I tell you, I’m going to ask you the same question, right?”
“I assumed you would, and I have so many that I’m struggling to pick just one,” I reply, laughing.
“Okay, so here it goes. I was in an a cappella group my freshman year in high school.” Ben closes his eyes and shakes his head. “It was pretty bad.”
“Like you used to sing? What was your group called? I’m sorry, but this isn’t all that embarrassing,” I say, realizing if this is the most embarrassing thing that’s happened to him, I’m keeping my mouth shut.
“Yeah, singing. We weren’t very good. I can’t sing to save my life. I have no idea why I joined and then when it came time to pick a name, that’s when it gets embarrassing.”
“Oh, I gotta know now,” I say, sitting up, waiting for him to hit me with it.
“We were called Guacappella and Chips.” He covers his face with his hands, the redness of his cheeks peeking through.
“What? You were a singing group, not an appetizer,” I spit out, laughing.
“Yeah, I know. We were fourteen, that’s the only excuse I have,” Ben replies, both of us laughing now. “Now it’s your turn, Aida. Let’s see if you can top the appetizer singing group.”