Do NOT read further if you are not of legal age. All the usual disclaimers apply. All rights reserved to the author.
BLURB: It's the night of the Surf Fest and Harrison has a trick up his sleeve. But he's in for a surprise himself.
LOVE IS ALL THAT MATTERS
~ Chapter 24 ~
From the Narrative of Harrison Ridgeway IV:
"Come on, Mom, we've got to hurry," I said impatiently, as I finished the last button on my shirt. "Josh needs me back at the cafe."
Mom appeared from her bedroom, elegantly dressed in a floral- print summer dress with her long, red hair coiled on top of her head. "It's not me who isn't ready," she declared.
Sighing loudly, I knocked on Reid's door. "Reid! You're taking longer than a girl to get ready."
The door opened and Reid stuck his disheveled head and bare shoulders out. I narrowed my eyes. "Why aren't you dressed?"
"I'm not going," stated Reid.
"Huh? And why not?" I asked.
Reid looked morose. "Because there's absolutely no reason I should go."
"What do you mean?" I asked, puzzled. "You maintained your second placing in the Surf Fest."
"Yes, yet again. It's getting embarrassing."
I was incredulous. "Are you telling me you're not going because you're sulking over not winning?" I started to laugh, stopping hastily when Mom shot a glare at me.
"Reid," Mom said gently, "It's not a big deal. Second place is still an achievement, especially against so many contestants from all over California."
"Yeah, and besides, you do own half the caf‚. You're one of the hosts of the party. You'll be missed if you don't come," I added.
Reid didn't look convinced. It suddenly dawned on me there could be another reason for Reid's hesitance. In previous years he must have attended the party with a boyfriend in tow - that boyfriend now being my boyfriend. I felt a rush of guilt; if that was his reason, then I was ill-placed to change his mind.
Fortunately, Mom had a better tactic. "Joshua and Harrison are going to be busy with their duties at the party. Someone needs to keep me company."
If anything could have persuaded Reid, this was it. I saw him wavering and went in for the kill. "You know how Mom is - she can't be trusted on her own. She'll get up to all sorts of mischief if you don't tie her down." I risked another glare from Mom, hiding my grin as I did so.
Before Reid could reply, Mom said, "It's decided then. Look, I ironed this shirt for you and you should wear it to the party. It will go beautifully with your eyes." She produced a cobalt-blue shirt with an Indian design embroidered in yellow on it.
Reid stared at her open-mouthed. "How did you know - I hadn't even decided to come!"
Mom smiled widely. "Let's put it down to women's intuition. Now don't keep everyone waiting. Go and get changed quickly." She handed the shirt to him and practically chased him into his room.
I couldn't help but laugh at the helpless look Reid gave me before the door closed. "Poor Reid didn't stand a chance against you, Mom," I told her.
Mom put her hands on her hips and looked at me. "Well, I couldn't let the poor boy sit around the house and mope. He needs to go out and enjoy himself."
I surprised her by giving her a quick hug. "Thanks, Mom. You really got me out of an impossible situation there. I didn't think Reid was going to listen to me. But this party is a great opportunity for him to have a little fun, meet someone new - which is what he desperately needs."
Mom eyed me suspiciously. "What's all this about Reid meeting someone new?" Seeing the guilty look on my face, Mom said, "Harrison! He said he doesn't want to be introduced to anyone. Don't tell me you're up to-"
I laughingly calmed her down. "Don't worry, I'm not going to push him into anything he doesn't want. We'll watch and see how it goes, okay?" She still looked suspicious, so I added, "The worst possible thing that could happen is he'll have to spend his time at the party talking with a middle-aged woman. Does that sound so bad?" I knew she couldn't disagree with me.
"Harry! Over here!" Josh raised his voice to be heard over the music and the crowd.
I made my way through the crowd to the counter where he was. "You took forever," he added with a touch of reproach.
I apologized with a light kiss on his cheek. "Sorry, Reid didn't want to come at first, but with Mom's help he changed his mind. What did I miss?"
"Nothing much really. Could you help with this tray of hors d'oeuvres? Thanks. Just circulate around with it. Oh, and your friend Dean arrived while you weren't here."
I carefully balanced the tray while scanning the crowd to locate Dean. I spotted him at the far end of the bar, but I couldn't see Marc with him.
"Didn't Marc come with him?" I asked Josh.
"If you mean his boyfriend, yeah, he did. Did you say his name was Marc? I didn't catch it but he seems to be one of those journalistic types, writes for some magazine or other."
"Newspaper," I corrected. At his enquiring look, I explained, "He writes for the Corona Times."
"Oh, right. Anyway, he's going around interviewing the organizers and winners, that sort of thing. Both he and Dean were asking for you."
"Okay then, I'll go and say hi to them."
Josh tapped my shoulder as I turned to go. "Hold on there, who's going to distribute these then?" he asked, gesturing towards the tray.
I felt my face redden. "Sorry, I got a little carried away. I'll serve the hors d'oeuvres first, and then only go to greet the guys. But if my serving path takes me past Dean or Marc, I can't help but say hi to them, right?" I asked innocently.
Josh grinned. "Sounds like a fair deal to me."
Of course I didn't purposely take advantage of his leniency. I actually finished serving more than half the room before I reached Dean, who smirked when he saw me approaching.
"I didn't realize you'd given up the accounting profession to take up waiting tables?" he joked.
I pulled a face. "Very funny. I'm just helping out Josh; he's short of staff tonight."
Dean took in the crowd of people in the caf‚ and the extra tables placed on the deck outside. "I'll say," he agreed.
"So are you enjoying yourself? How come you aren't following Marc around?"
"Oh, he's in full professional mode tonight. I'd probably cramp his style." He lowered his voice. "I wanted to say hi to Reid. But maybe that isn't such a hot idea when he's looking so ... down."
I felt another prick of guilt. "Well, he's kind of upset about the championship results."
Dean raised his eyebrows. "But he won second place, right? What's so upsetting about that?"
"Exactly what I told him. My mom had to literally drag him to this party."
"In that case, I definitely would not be the best person to cheer him up. Although I'll tell you what cheered ME up earlier at the Surf Fest - the sight of Reid in just his boardshorts."
I grinned in response to his devious wink. "Yes, those shorts were pretty low."
"You're telling me!" exclaimed Dean. "And yet there I was hoping they'd slip just that little bit lower."
I shook my head in amusement. "One day in our house and all your dreams will come true. If Mom wasn't staying there, it'd be really hard to make him put ANY clothes on!"
Dean's eyes grew wide at the mental image and I laughed uncontrollably. "Don't tell me you're regretting your earlier decision not to hook up with Reid."
Dean shook his head firmly. "Nah, that much hotness would probably scorch me! Marc might not be Brad Pitt, but to me he's cute and everything else besides."
I smiled at him. "Well, that's good to hear. I can consider you guys my one success in matchmaking."
"Uh, don't look now, but I think your boyfriend's signaling to you to continue serving."
I looked dismally down at the tray. "And here I was thinking he was going to let me have it easy. After all, I only came here on a voluntary basis."
Dean laughed. "Now you know how the real world works. In bed, your boyfriend may be sweetness and light, but at work he's a slave-driver."
"What makes you so certain he isn't one in bed as well?" was my parting shot.
Some time later, when I'd finished unloading my tray, I felt someone tap on my shoulder. I turned around to find Marc.
"Hey! Marc. I'm sorry I couldn't talk to you earlier but ..." I noticed he was looking anxious. "Is something wrong?"
He shifted from one foot to the other. "I don't know how to say this but ... well, you were the one who changed Dean's mind about taking me back."
I shrugged. "I don't think he needed much persuading. At most I made him realize what was there all along."
"That was still a great help. And if you hadn't advised me to keep trying, I might just have given up." He hesitated. "That's what I need again: your advice. I'm in a bit of a dilemma." He gazed at me intently, and I could see from the pleading look in his eyes that, whatever he was going to say, he wanted me to side with him.
I sighed. "Despite what you might think, I'm not the best person to go for advice. But if you really want it, go ahead and shoot."
"Can we ... go somewhere a little more private?"
I nodded and led him to the backroom. Shutting the door, I turned to look at him enquiringly.
Marc took a deep breath and began, "Well ... It's like this. You have to understand, this happened when I thought it extremely unlikely that Dean would ever take me back."
I didn't like where this was going, especially given Marc's past indiscretion which had to his breakup in the first place. "Don't tell me, you're having another affair."
Marc looked horrified. "What? No! Definitely not. There's no way I'd do that to him a second time. No, it was nothing like that." He paused.
"Okay then, what is it?"
Avoiding looking me in the eye, he said quickly, without stopping, "I went for an interview with another newspaper. The job they were offering was a lot better than the one I have now. Better salary, perks, you name it. I didn't expect to get it, but then, just a few days ago, they wrote back, offering me the job." He looked at me expectantly.
That didn't sound at all bad to me. I voiced my thoughts. "But ... that's good news, right?"
"Well..." Marc screwed up his face before continuing, "This job? It's with the Chicago Herald."
I exclaimed, "Do you mean to say this job is in Chicago?"
Marc looked unhappy. With an effort, I lowered my voice and continued, "What does Dean think about this?" From the look on Marc's face, I already knew the answer. "You haven't told him yet."
"I didn't dare to tell him. We've only been back together a couple of weeks now and this - this could ruin everything." He looked at me helplessly.
Trying to think calmly, I asked, "Okay, how do you think Dean will feel about this?"
"You know what he'll think. He'll feel that I've let him down again. I don't want to. I really want him to come with me, move to Chicago. But I know he won't agree to that. He has his parents, his own dream job, all right here in Corona Beach. He would never -"
"Then you know what you have to do," I cut in.
"But ... a job with the Herald is the opportunity of a lifetime! And the pay is excellent!" he whined.
I glared at him. "Your dilemma, as you put it, consists entirely of you choosing between more money and your boyfriend, supposedly the love of your life."
"He is the love of my life; it's just that -" He was at a loss for words. "Please don't look at me like that," he begged.
I sighed heavily. "I suppose I really can't judge you - I've never been put in a similar situation before. But if I were, and I had to choose, I would pick Josh. I've never done much for him, not the way he's helped me out. I would like to say I could never think of leaving him, but then again I already have my dream job right here in Corona Beach. This is a decision you have to make for yourself, Marc. But I think your choice should be obvious."
Marc was silent. Then he said quietly, "I love Dean. Losing him the first time showed me just how much I did. I don't want to go through that again. I suppose I'll have to reject the job offer."
I patted his arm sympathetically. "Maybe you can talk it over with Dean. You never know he might just agree-"
He smiled sadly at me. "We both know it wouldn't work out that way. What's a job with one of the country's top-ranked newspapers anyway? It doesn't hold a candle to Dean." I knew he was trying to console himself, so I didn't say anything.
He spoke instead. "You probably have to get back to the party. Go ahead."
I looked at him in concern. "Are you sure -"
"Yeah, I'll be okay." He gave a winning smile that would have given Reid a run for his money on a good day. But I knew he wasn't really happy. I gave him what I hoped was a reassuring smile and left, a little reluctantly.
Outside I bumped into Josh. "Oh, sorry. Is there anything else you want me to serve?"
Josh smiled. "No, you can take a little break now. Hey, isn't that your boss over there?"
I looked in the direction he was pointing. Sure enough, Mr. Fernley was making his way through the crowd towards the counter. Something Josh had said struck me.
"Wait a minute, how did you know what Mr. Fernley looks like?"
Josh stared. Then he quickly said, "Oh, everyone in Corona Beach knows what Mr. Fernley looks like. I mean, he is one- half of the town's No. 1 accounting firm."
"Oh." His answer was convincing enough, but somehow I felt something was amiss. I was distracted from my train of thought by Mr. Fernley's arrival at the counter.
"Good evening, Harrison. I see why you had to request half the day off. This party must have required some organizing."
"Uh, yes, sir. But it wasn't really me who did most of the organizing; it was my boyfriend here."
Josh extended his hand politely. "Joshua Spencer."
Mr. Fernley shook Josh's hand. "Adrian Fernley."
I noticed Mom, who was sitting at the counter, looking our way. "Oh and this is my mother, Marcia Ridgeway."
"Marcia Sedgwick," she corrected. She was still in the process of divorcing her husband, but she chose to give her maiden name instead. I watched curiously as Mr. Fernley shook Mom's hand.
"Pleased to meet you, Miss Sedgwick," replied Mr. Fernley.
"The pleasure is all mine. I was hoping to thank you in person for the lovely roses you sent me while I was in hospital."
I was amazed to see a slight blush tinge Mr. Fernley's cheeks. It suddenly dawned on me that Mr. Fernley could only be a few years older than my mother.
"I actually sent those on behalf of the office," said Mr. Fernley, betraying the slightest discomfiture. "Your son was very upset by your unfortunate hospitalization and all of us at F&A were very pleased to hear you made a full recovery."
"Well, thank you for your concern."
Mr. Fernley cleared his throat, and looked around. "I meant to introduce my nephew to you, Harrison. But he has disappeared with his girlfriend, let me see ..."
I spotted Liz easily, and the back of the guy talking to her.
"Is that him over there?" I asked.
"Hmm? Yes, that's him. Carter!" called Mr. Fernley. The guy talking to Liz turned towards us. And that was the first time I saw Carter Holborn.
To say that he was the most beautiful guy I had ever laid eyes on would be an understatement. As a rule I don't like guys with long hair; Carter was the exception to this rule. His wavy, strawberry blond locks came down to his shoulder, framing a face with high cheekbones and full, pink lips. But that was not his most incredible feature. No, that honour belonged to his mesmerizing eyes - they were the most exquisite shade of green, perfectly combining the sparkle of emeralds and the softness of new leaves. One could drown in those verdant pools.
Mr. Fernley's voice cut into my thoughts. "Harrison, let me introduce you to my nephew, Carter Holborn. Carter, this is Harrison Ridgeway."
"Nice to meet you." Somewhat dazed, I shook the proffered hand and thought how even his voice has so damned sexy. His grip was strong, unsurprising given that his clothes, well- cut as they were, did little to hide the fact that he had a muscular build. And suddenly it dawned on me that I was thinking about a guy, a straight guy no less, in these terms with my boyfriend standing right next to me!
Inwardly scolding myself, I managed to say, "My pleasure." Yet despite my best attempts, I found myself drawn once again to those gorgeous eyes, sucked into their green depths ... oh God what was happening to me!
Mr. Fernley rescued me by saying, "You know, I'm quite sure I saw Phil near the entrance. Did you -"
"Yes!" I was so eager to get away from Carter's hormonally- charged presence that I didn't realize I'd practically shouted the word out. I tried to cover my slipup by hastily adding, "I was the one who asked him to come, so I think I'd better go and talk to him. You can all keep chatting."
Without another word I hurried away from the group. I could feel their curious stares on my back. Even Reid, who'd been distractedly swirling his drink, had looked up when I'd made a fool of myself. I prayed that no one realized the true reason for my apparent rudeness. It was to my great relief that I managed to quickly spot Phil's brown-haired head near the entrance, just like Mr. Fernley had said.
Phil grinned when he saw me. "Harrison! I've been looking all over for you. I even saw Mr. Fernley, but not you. Where've you been?"
"I was in the backroom, talking with a friend," I replied.
Phil gave me a quick once-over. "I see your boyfriend has you dressed in a cute uniform. He must know that I love men in uniform."
I raised my eyebrows. "I thought you loved surfer boys ... and the less clothes the better."
Phil said seriously, "Well, that's convenient for a quickie. But when you've got the time, peeling off the uniform can be the best part."
I laughed. It was so hard not to with Phil around. I rapidly forgot about the brief moment when the sight of Carter Holborn had set my pulse racing.
From the Narrative of Reid Scott:
I hadn't wanted to attend this party, and with good reason. It was very much the champion's party, and I was merely the runner-up. Far worse was the fact that I was boyfriend-less and alone. Yes, I'd agreed to keep Marcia company, but she seemed to have found her own way to stay occupied. I watched her awkward interaction with Harrison's boss with some amusement.
I leaned over towards Josh and whispered, "Are those two flirting?"
There was no reply. I turned to look at him and found him staring distractedly at something. I followed his line of vision and saw Harrison talking with a handsome but pale, dark-haired guy. It appeared Marcia and Adrian weren't the only ones flirting. Worriedly, I looked back at Josh.
I could immediately read the expression on his face. I'd suffered from the same feeling when I first saw Josh and Harrison kissing. I knew that Josh, who was otherwise the most perfect guy imaginable, had one flaw: he was prone to jealousy.
I cursed Harrison's foolishness. What on earth had possessed him to flirt openly with another guy right in front of Josh? I truly regretted that Josh had never been able to feel about me the same way he felt about Harrison. At one time, I'd begrudged Harrison for it. But now that I'd gotten to know Harrison, I discovered that I had grown quite fond of the little guy. I didn't like to see him dig his own grave, and hurt the man we both loved in the process.
I decided that I had to do something about the situation. I got up and headed in Harrison's direction.
"Hey, Harrison," I said as I reached the giggling pair. Harrison looked up guiltily at the sound of my voice. So the idiot did realize he was doing something wrong!
I said pointedly, "I think you're needed at the counter." Harrison looked towards the counter - and Josh - and nodded mutely.
"I'll catch you later, Phil," he said to his friend, and walked off.
I turned to Phil, intending to give him a piece of my mind for flirting with Josh's boyfriend. But when I got a good look at him, I forgot all about ticking him off. I hadn't noticed earlier just how good-looking he was. A little pale, certainly, but it made his straight dark-brown hair and deep brown eyes even more startling.
I hoped I was keeping my attraction to myself, because Phil was unable to tear his eyes away from me.
I said gruffly, "It's rude to stare."
Phil seemed to come to his senses. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to." I noted the slight accent he had. It was undeniably sexy, not that I was going to let him know that I thought so.
"So how do you know Harrison?" I asked.
"We, uh, we work in the same division at F&A. I'm Philippe Montpellier. Except most people around here call me Phil." He seemed to warm to his topic. "Americans are fond of short names."
"From which I gather you're not American."
He shook his head. "No, I'm French."
"Ah, that explains the accent."
For some unknown reason he blushed. The pink tinge to his alabaster complexion made him even cuter.
He must have realized it was his turn to speak. "So, what's the short version of your name?"
"Don't have one. It isn't possible when your name is a monosyllable."
"The monosyllable being ...?" Damn, his accent made even the most boring word like `monosyllable' sound erotic.
"Reid."
He enquired, "Do you have a last name to go with that?"
"Yes, Scott."
This provoked a flash of emotion in him which I couldn't quite place. He recovered quickly and retorted, "Further proof that Americans love short names. Do you have a name that isn't a monosyllable?" I found myself wishing that he would keep saying that word.
"My middle name is Emerson," I offered.
"That's a nice name," he commented. "After the famous American poet?"
I nodded.
Then, unexpectedly, he said, "You won second place in the Surf Fest."
"Yes." I didn't think anyone would recognize me. I did appear different in person than I did on a surfboard. Besides, people usually only had eyes for the champ, not that I begrudged Carter for being both a master on his board and hot to trot.
"I watched you, earlier today. You were wonderful, especially when you did that ... swan dive? Is that what you call it?"
I laughed. "You mean a duck dive. Do you actually know anything about surfing?"
He looked down, embarrassed. "No."
"I thought not. You couldn't possibly be out on the sea much with that complexion. So why do you watch surfing?"
"For the cute guys," he admitted, sounding forlorn. For some reason, it tugged at my heartstrings.
I surprised myself by asking, "Do you have a boyfriend?"
He shook his head. "No, but I know what you're hinting at."
"I'm not hinting at anything!" I defended myself with some annoyance. It had only been a few minutes ago that I'd been about to admonish him for flirting with Harrison.
Subdued, he said, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to anger you. It's just that ... I find you rather attractive." The last words were barely above a whisper, and the color rose in his cheeks. His shyness shouldn't have been appropriate for a guy of his age (I assumed he was around my own age) but it bewildered me that I found it strangely appealing. Maybe because it reminded me a little of the first time I'd met Josh.
On a sudden impulse I asked, "It's kind of noisy in here. Do you ... do you want to go for a walk on the beach?"
He looked at me with his brown eyes wide. "Y-yes."
"Okay, I just have to tell someone so that they won't be looking for me."
He nodded eagerly. I looked around. Josh was the nearest, so I approached him. "Josh, I'm going for a walk on the beach, okay?"
"You're going alone?" he asked.
"No, with someone."
Josh looked behind me, towards Phil who was looking anxiously in our direction.
He raised his eyebrows. "I see. Sure."
"Okay, thanks. I'll catch you later."
I turned to go, when Josh's voice called me back. "Reid?"
"Yeah?"
"Have a good time. You deserve it." He didn't wait for my reply, which was just as well, because I didn't know what to say.
I walked back to Phil. "Okay, c'mon."
He looked tentatively at me, and then quietly followed me out of the cafe, and into the moonlit night.
To be continued ...
Feedback is always appreciated - please email me at justinr_88@yahoo.com. Thank you for following this story so far.