The Kingmaker

“Phone probably turned off for the flight,” Kimba says. She glances up the street and then, after a brief hesitation, back to me. “Look, we like you, Maxim.”

“Thank you,” I reply, braced for their “but.”

“But,” Kimba continues, “we don’t want to see our girl hurt. You know?”

“I won’t hurt her.”

Won’t it hurt when she finds out who you are? a little sanctimonious voice asks.

She does know who I am.

Kimba and Vivienne make me feel as bad as my guilty conscience with their pointed stares and sighs.

“You won’t mean to hurt her,” Kimba says. “But when a guy says this doesn’t mean anything—”

“I never said that.” I suck my teeth, exasperated. “We both have huge things going on that require our complete focus.”

“Hey, I get it,” Vivienne says with a shrug. “But she’s a special girl.”

“I know that.”

“So don’t expect her to stay unattached,” Kimba picks up, “while you roam the globe hunting for icebergs.”

I don’t reply, but the thought of someone else touching Lennix, of her hair on someone else’s pillow, of someone else making her tea the morning after—it makes me want to break something. It makes me want to abandon the trip that has been in the works for a year and fly to Oklahoma.

But I can’t. I won’t.

“We gotta go,” Vivienne says. “A few souvenirs to get before we leave.”

“Oh,” Kimba says over her shoulder as they start down the street. “Tell David I had a great time and goodbye.”

“You don’t want to tell him yourself?” I ask, following for a few steps so I can hear her response.

“Oh, no.” Kimba laughs, lobbing an ironic look at me over her shoulder. “When we said just for fun, we actually meant it.”

For an hour after they walk away, I sit on the wall outside their hostel. I almost fool myself into believing the door will open any minute, and Lennix will come running out. I picture her the way she looked the night we went to Vuurtoreneiland. The first night we made love.

My mind wanders to a few last-minute items on the supply list Grim tasked me with securing. I haven’t tracked down one yet, and we leave for New Zealand, our ship’s departure point, in two days.

You’re distracted.

Grim said it, and he’s right. I can’t afford this right now. My life, the safety of our team, the success of our efforts all require my absolute attention. I’ll go see Lennix after Antarctica and before the Amazon expedition to see what we should do about this attachment we’ve formed.

I dial her number. I don’t know when she’ll get this message. Whatever is between us is not for now, but it’s not over.

“Nix, hey,” I say to her voice mail. “Viv and Kimba said I missed you. I flew back early because I wanted to see you. Look, I, uh, know we said we’d walk away, but I want you to know this week meant so much to me, too. Guess I broke my own rule, huh? I need to focus on this trip. It’s not fun and games, and there’s still a lot I need to do before we leave. And I know you have some serious shit you’re handling there in Oklahoma. Internet access and cell phone will be pretty spotty for me, but when I get back, I’d love to talk about . . . I don’t know. What else this might be. Take care.”

Yeah, I’ll go to her after the trip.

There will be time then.

24

Lennix

“That went well.” A grimace skims Jim Nighthorse’s distinguished features. “Or as well as something like this can go.”

“No, it did go well,” I agree, glancing around the table at the team he has assembled for his campaign. “There were TV cameras everywhere. This community definitely knows Tammara’s missing.”