The Pool Boy

“You said you have everything to lose in the next week. I can wait that long.”

“But—”

He keeps going, “There’s something here. There’s something between us. I want to figure out what it is, and I think you do, too.”

I can’t answer.

I have no answer, because he’s not wrong.

“So I’ll wait for you while you handle your business, but this isn’t over.”

I think my heart stops beating, because he’s still not wrong. Just the fact that my body warms up at those words proves that it’s not over. Hell, it hasn’t even started.

“Unless…” He takes a step toward me. “Is waiting really what you want?”

“No,” I breathe. “But I don’t know another way.”

“I’m sure we can find one.” He kisses me. It’s a gentle kiss, but it is unyielding. I swear I can feel that kiss in every pore, and god I want more. He wraps an arm around me, pressing me into him. My hips are pressed against his, my breasts pressed against his naked skin and I still want to be closer. But instead he’s pulling away, smiling softly. It’s maddening.

“Fine, you’re right, it’s not over,” I say, and he laughs.

“Can I ask you something?” He looks back toward the house.

“Sure.”

“You said you like to design low-income housing?”

I nod. “Yeah. It’s what I want to do.”

There’s a light in his eyes and he seems excited. “Do you have designs here?”

I smile. “As a matter of fact, I do.”

8

Vera

Having James in my room is…weird. It’s oddly intimate. I’ve only ever had boyfriends while I was away at school, so none of them ever saw this room. And James isn’t even my boyfriend, is he? I don’t know what we are at the moment. We’re nebulous.

Sneaking him up here wasn’t easy either. I took the long way around through the garage and up the back stairs, making sure to stay as far away from my father’s office as possible. I’m sure on the surface my parents wouldn’t object to James looking at my architectural designs, but ‘better safe than sorry’ seems like a motto I should live by in this situation. Thankfully he has his shirt on. He’s less distracting that way.

“Here,” I say, leading him over to the drafting table. But he’s not looking at the designs. Instead, he’s looking around my room. I blush, wondering what he’s thinking of the things I keep here. What does it say about me? What do the colors and books reveal about my personality that he might not have known? Finally he comes to where I’m standing, and I show him the different version of my ELIH house and the breakdown of affordable and eco-friendly materials I hope will be used.

I didn’t expect for him to contribute. But instead of just looking at my designs, he points out places where they can be better. Places where I can add more functionality. As I nod along with him, I suddenly realize he may not be the only one who made assumptions about the other.

“Thank you,” I say. “This will help. Now if someone would only be interested in the designs.”

James flips back through the different versions one more time. “I have no doubt that they will,” he says. “They’re really good.”

I bite my lip to keep from smiling too widely. I think they’re pretty good too, but they’re all about function—not usually the type of architectural designs that get a lot of praise. So far in my experience, no one really cares about houses for poor people.

There’s a chiming sound, and I realize it’s the doorbell. I look over at my clock. It’s six. Shit. I got so carried away with James and the designs that I forgot about my dad’s guests. I’m not even close to being ready. I run into my closet and shut the door. I grab the first dress I see that’s appropriate—a short black one that’s pretty but tame enough for my father not to give me any disapproving looks.

I hear James’s voice from outside the door. “You don’t have to hide. I’ve already seen you naked.” His voice is amused.

“Funny,” I say, grabbing a pair of short black heels.

I slip them on and come out of the closet, going straight to the vanity. Light makeup it is.

I can see James gaping at me in the mirror. “I think you might be superman,” he says.

“Why?”

“Because that’s the fastest I’ve ever seen anyone change.”

A smile creeps across my face as I put in a pair of silver earrings. I run a brush through my hair and opt only for a quick sweep of mascara and a little dab of lip gloss. “Good enough,” I say.

“More than good.”

“I’m really sorry I lost track of time. Wait till we’re seated in the dining room—you won’t have any problem leaving after that.”

James grabs my hand to pull me against him, and kisses me. It’s light and teasing and god I can’t be thinking about this when I’m with my parents. “I could think of some ways for you to lose track of more time,” he says.

“I wish,” I say, laughing and making him stop. “I have to go.”

I think this dinner has been the longest meal of my entire life. In fact, I think that my father’s clients somehow broke time to make this seem like forever. This couple is rich as sin and they’re commissioning my father to build a house for them on a piece of beachfront property they recently purchased. The woman’s laugh is on my last nerve. It was on my last nerve even before she asked, “So, Vera, what do you do?”

I didn’t get the chance to answer. My father chimed in immediately. “Following in my footsteps.” There was a giant smile on his face, even though I knew it was fake. “I’ve been trying to convince her to come work for me. We’

d be unstoppable.”

“Cheers to that,” the husband had said, and raised his glass to us. I pressed my lips together and tried to smile. Take a drink. Chew my food. Just get through it.

It’s almost nine now and I feel like I’m slowly dying. This couple has said nothing of actual substance the entire night. It has been all about their other properties, their exploits in society, and the woman’s trips abroad to go shopping. I like shopping as much as the next girl, but I don’t have to switch continents to do it.

When my mother finally signals to one of our staff to clear the plates from the table I feel like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders. She gestures to our guests and asks me, “Will you join us in the lounge for some coffee?”

We all stand. “If you don’t mind,” I say, “I think I’m going to call it an early night. I’ve got to get an early start tomorrow. It was nice to meet you.” I shake their hands, ignore their slightly surprised goodbyes and make my escape. I can deal with it if I get a lecture tomorrow, but I am not going to spend another hour listening to them talk.

I take my heels off at the top of the stairs, letting my feet breathe the rest of the way to my room. I wasn’t planning on actually going to bed when I said it, but I might. I’m tired—I never knew boredom could make you that tired. Guess that’s something I should be aware of from now on. I toss my heels in the corner of the room and take out my earrings.

“How was dinner?”

I swear I jump about a foot. James is lounging on my bed—I was so distracted I didn’t even see him when I came in. My heart is pounding from the adrenaline. “What the hell are you still doing here?” This surprises me, but I can’t say I’m not happy about it.