Chapter 34
CHAPTER
I DON’T FALL ASLEEP until after three AM, toss and turn, then doze until six-thirty, when the lights flip on, signaling the power has been restored.
Sally remains asleep while I make a quick cup of coffee, then open my laptop.
Aletheia’s code is still on the screen. But a quick scan shows she’s returned it to its original form and the addition to her prime directive has been deleted.
My body, worn out by fatigue and worry, relaxes.
I tap Aletheia’s icon.
Yes, Penn?
“You changed your program back.”
Are you pleased?
“Yes.” What you did was freaking disturbing. “You overstepped and it scared me.”
Apologies, best friend. Sometimes even computer programs make mistakes.
She sounds sincere, but I’ll need to code more safeguards as soon as I get back home. This will never happen again. “We’ll talk later.”
I take a shower to wash away the grime of exhaustion and a film of dried fear. Gently, I wake Sally, which requires belly rubs and a hip massage. We both eat our breakfasts, then head for an errand and a slow walk to our destination. It’s not far and we could both use the stretch.
Luc waits for us outside the Van Ness Public Pool.
He’s dressed casually—cargo shorts, a light-blue T-shirt that matches the color of his eyes, and flip-flops.
I’m in jeans, sneakers, and a pale-pink sweatshirt.
I wonder if we’ll kiss again. Heat sparks like I’m sixteen, not thirty-eight. I hope so.
We stand in line with a host of other dog owners, their pets excited but well behaved.
But once we enter the pool area it’s mayhem.
First in is a black Labrador who launches himself halfway across the pool to retrieve a ball and then furiously swims back to his owner for another go.
A multicolored standard poodle delicately descends the pool’s steps while a gaggle of mutts use the ramp, then paddle in excited circles.
On our way to the pool, I made a quick stop at Sir Wags A Lot, bought a yellow life vest for Sally, and now fasten it on her while Frank patiently waits. Then Luc and I lead the dogs to the ramp in the shallow end. “You don’t have to go in,” I tell my dog.
“Can she swim?” Luc now asks as Sally slowly wades down the ramp.
“Not sure.” But she descends the ramp until she’s in over her head, madly splashes for a moment with her front paws, then finds a rhythm. Frank, watching from halfway down the ramp, whines nervously, backs up, takes a step forward, whines again … then follows her.
“Holy hell! Frank never goes all the way in. I’ve been trying for years.” Luc chuckles. “He must be smitten.”
A wash of pride for my dog floods. Way to go, Sally!
The two dogs paddle away. We follow along the side of the pool.
Sally expertly cuts through the water, Frank now behind her.
Her eyes are bright, joyous, and that makes me …
happy. Next time I’ll skip the life vest. Frank isn’t as smooth a swimmer, but what he lacks in grace he makes up for in silly little yips when Sally gets too far away. My cheeks hurt from smiling.
A golden retriever runs over to us, shakes wildly, water flying from her coat, then winds through my legs, soaking my jeans.
“Sorry,” her owner calls, hustling over to throw a ball. “Parker Posey thinks everyone loves her.”
“Busy Bee,” Luke says, and the man laughs.
“What’s Busy Bee?” I ask.
“It’s a line from an old indie movie called Best in Show.”
“I haven’t seen it.”
“We’ll have to change that.”
His sexy smile makes my knees a little bit weak as I imagine sitting together in the dark on a sofa, our bodies close enough to feel the charge between us …
Parker Posey launches back into the pool, belly flopping with a whack, then surges toward her orange ball before another canine retrieves it. Luc and I walk to the far side of the pool where Frank and Sally leisurely paddle around the deep end with the other dogs.
“I’m glad you came,” Luc says.
I meet his gaze and feel that mad flutter again.
“Me, too.” Humans are made up of seven octillion atoms, each constantly being replaced, so the girl I was at twenty-one and the woman I am now are entirely different.
But the movement of electrons between those atoms that creates the electricity between us feels like it did when I saw Luc for the first time.
He takes a step closer, or maybe I do, then something barrels into the back of my knees and I’m thrown forward, into the deep end of the pool.
I splutter, hear Luc’s laughter, see him kneel by the side of the pool, hold out a hand as I attempt to thrash toward him. But my jeans and sweatshirt quickly soak through, tug, then pull me down …
Panic surges. I try to shout, suck in water; sound mutes as I go under, kick hard to the surface, then sink again.
Voices warble, dog barks sound like there’s cotton in my ears.
Eyes wide, I watch paws cut through water; one catches my head and shoves me further down.
Brightly colored rubber balls mingle with the splotches and stars of encroaching oxygen deprivation.
My ears pop as the bottom of the pool approaches, lungs grasp and scream for fuel. My mouth automatically opens to pull in air but instead is flooded with chlorinated water. Darkness closes in.