IF YOU WANTED THE MOON (8 page)

Tori hadn’t done anything overtly for him to even suspect she was interested. She had, in fact, behaved just the opposite. Unless, she thought, it didn’t matter to him if she was interested or not. Unless he viewed her as some easy conquest based of how she responded to him on that stairwel. Was this trip some sort of rendevous for him? Some sort of opportunity for him to show her who’s realy boss?

To knock her off
her
feet for a change?

Tori sat down on the bed. She was attracted to Ethan Chandler. She knew it from the moment she first saw him. And the idea of an interracial relationship never bothered her because it wasn’t

something that she had seriously thought about. Al of her closest friends were black and they al dated and married black. There was never any reason to be opinionated about it. She knew it was a controversial thing. She knew about those times when a brother would walk into a restaurant or into a movie theater with a white woman on his arm and her girlfriends would nudge her and nod their heads, as if they were more than happy to publicaly display their displeasure. But that had never bothered Tori. As far as she was concerned life was too short to categorize God’s children. If he was a good man with striped skin, she’d consider him. But he had to be a good man.

And that, more than race, was the problem with her attraction to Ethan Chandler. Was he a good man? Or was he the monster many made him out to be? She’d be curious to find out. But not like

this. Not in this
love shack
of his. Tori knew the deal. She’d seen Chandler in too many magazines with too many different women on his arms. And she knew that the one thing every one of those females in every one of those articles had in common with each other wasn’t just the fact that they’d been on Ethan Chandler’s arm, but also the fact that they never were around by the time the next article was written. And Tori knew she wasn’t about to let some white man, or any man for that matter, turn her into yesterday’s news.

The Sunshine Café had been crowded at lunchtime, but by the time Ethan and Tori arrived only a handful of customers remained. They took a seat at a table near the old-fashioned jukebox and, after

ordering cokes and sandwiches, leaned back and listened to the music. It was hardly either’s favorite, the Beach Boys singing
Wouldn’t It Be Nice
. But at least, Tori thought, it was upbeat.

Ethan, who had peeled out of his suit coat and now was in white shirt sleeves, leaned back against his chair, sipping from his coke, and staring at Tori. She was troubled, he could tel. He just couldn’t figure out why.

“What’s the matter?” he finaly decided to ask her.

She looked at him and tried to smile. “Nothing,” she replied.

“Something’s bothering you. What is it?”

Tori hesitated. Would he be nasty or nice, she wondered, if she told him what she was truly thinking? Mildred said he once fired a man for asking too many questions, and, given Tori’s natural propensity to do the same, she advised Tori to remember that. Tori didn’t believe it for a second but, she thought, what if it were true? “Nothing’s wrong, Mr. Chandler, thanks for asking,” she decided to say.

Ethan exhaled. One day somebody was going to cut that
let me tell you what you want to hear so I can get what I want from you
routine, and tel it to him straight. He once thought Tori could be that person. “Eat your sandwich, you haven’t touched it,” he said.

Tori smiled at his concern and took a big bite out of her liverwurst. It wasn’t exactly Chicago style, but it was edible. She nodded as she chewed. “Not bad,” she said. “It’s pretty good then?”

“It ain’ slammin’,” Tori said in her best street slang voice, and Ethan laughed. “I ain’t saying that. But it’s okay.”

Ethan nodded his understanding and took a bite himself. Tori looked at him, as he chewed and drank his coke, a man with everything, she thought, who knew how to keep it real. Surely a man like that wouldn’t fire her for being inquisitive. And even if he would, she decided, it was her life, her time on this island, she had a right to know. “May I ask you something, Mr. Chandler?” she said.

wouldn’t fire her for being inquisitive. And even if he would, she decided, it was her life, her time on this island, she had a right to know. “May I ask you something, Mr. Chandler?” she said.

Ethan finished chewing his food and then wiped his mouth before responding. “Ethan,” he said.

“Sir?”

“Cal me Ethan. I’l cal you Tori.”

It’s about time, Tori thought. “That’s not my real name, you know.”

“Your real name is Victoria Deborah Douglas. I won’t cal you Victoria, although I’m tempted, because I’m sure you hate the name.”

“I don’t hate it, I just got out of the habit of it. When I was a kid, you see, my parents used to cal me Victoria-Deborah al the time, like it was one name, and they’d cal me that in front of everybody, embarrassing the hel out of me. Then my classmates, seeing that as the perfect opportunity—”

“Started caling you Victoria-Deborah.”

“Oh, no, they didn’t let me get off quite that easily. They started caling me VD.” Ethan burst into laughter. “That’s not funny, Mr. Chandler!”

“I’m sorry,” he said, between laughs. “And you’re right, it’s not. . . . funny at al. But I’l tel you what. I’ve got a bargain for you.”

“A bargain?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. I’m al ears.”

“Yes, you do have rather big ears, don’t you?”

“Mr. Chandler!” Tori yeled smilingly, unable to believe how relaxed with her this, let her coworkers tel it, inhumane ogre was becoming.

“Just kidding,” he said, stil smiling himself.

“So what’s the bargain?”

“You don’t cal me Mr. Chandler anymore, and I won’t cal you VD.”

Tori looked at Ethan. “You wouldn’t.”

“It’s not information I sort, Tori, but as a businessman I wil tel you that I use every detail to my advantage. So yes, I would. Now,” he said, returning to his serious side once again, “what did you want to ask me?”

Tori sighed before beginning. She was more confident now that she saw that side of him she most liked, but she was stil cautious. “I was just wondering about a few minor matters,” she said,

“concerning my situation.”

Ethan leaned back again and stared at her. “What situation is that?” he asked.

“Why did you chose me for this trip, for instance?”

Ethan exhaled. “You run my logistics department.”

“That’s correct.”

“Which means you’re competent.”

“I’m competent?”

“Aren’t you?”

“Is that it? Is that the reason you chose me?”

“Is that not a good enough reason?”

“Excuse my bluntness, but no. It’s not good enough. I’m competent, yes, but so are al of your other department heads.”

“Yes, Tori,” he said, impressed with her forthrightness, “but they didn’t try to knock me down a flight of stairs—”

“Mr. Chandler!” Tori said with amazement. “I mean Ethan. How could you say that? It was an accident, I didn’t do that on purpose!”

Ethan smiled. “I understand that, but you did it.”

“So coming here with you is my punishment, is that what you’re trying to say?”

“You owe me, Tori. I had a busted lip because of your little door trick. My employees, as I’m sure you’ve heard, view spending any discernible time with me as torture. Pure torture, according to Arthur. So why torture them? They didn’t bust my lip.”

Tori smiled as if she understood fuly his jest, but, in truth, she couldn’t believe it. He was admitting what she had most feared. He was out for blood just as she had thought. Oh, he said it calmly, he even said it with a smile, but she’d been warned about that too. “If he starts smiling at you,” Herb Baxter in Accounting had said, “watch out. You’re in trouble then.”

Tori took another bite of her sandwich. This was her punishment, after al, she thought, not her pleasure. A fact, she was sure, that he planned to demonstrate in that bedroom he expected them to share. But that wasn’t going to happen. She may not have a say over how hard he worked her, since she was on company time and she aimed to do her job, but she had more than a say about where or

with whom she slept. And after lunch, she decided, she would search out a local hotel room, move her luggage to it, and exercise that say.

with whom she slept. And after lunch, she decided, she would search out a local hotel room, move her luggage to it, and exercise that say.

The music in the diner changed from the easy listening sound of the Beach Boys to one of those hard rock bands, causing Tori to elevate her voice. Her goal was to behave as calmly as he always did, and then, without him having a clue about her plans, handle her business. “Is this one of your regular haunts, Mister. . . Ethan?”

Ethan shook his head. “Never been here before. Brennan recommended it.”

“Karl Brennan, your advance man?”

Ethan hesitated. She sounded as if she might be interested in the good looking black man. And just the thought that she might be interested in another man, a young, good looking man, upset Ethan.

“That’s right,” he said.

“What’s an advance man?”

“It’s just a figure of speech in my case. Karl had to take care of some matters for me and came early to get it done, that’s al.”

“Wil he be working with us when we start scouting for land?”

“He’s married, Tori,” Ethan said quickly and Tori, amazed that he would even go there, frowned.

“Why would you say a thing like that?” she asked incredulously. “I wasn’t asking about him because of
that
.”

“Sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure!”

“Then I do beg your pardon, Miss Douglas. I thought al of you ladies couldn’t wait to know a brother’s marital status.”

“Apparently some of us can wait because I have yet to ask about yours.” Tori couldn’t believe she had said it, and she looked to Ethan for his reaction, but she wasn’t exactly upset that she’d said it either.

Ethan smiled, to her surprise, and raised his glass of coke to her. “Point taken,” he said and she relaxed.

He drank heartily from his soda, al of it, in fact, and then asked if she was ready.

“Yes,” she said, rising, “before this loud behind music burst my big behind eardrums.”

Ethan laughed, tossed a twenty on the table, and headed for the cash register.

Tori waited outside, in the warm afternoon sun, and she tried to enjoy watching the townspeople go about their business up and down the town square, but she couldn’t pul it off. She felt letdown. She felt that al of this hope she had for Ethan, hope she didn’t even know why she would have, crumbled on his confession. She hurt him that day in that stairwel, and now he aimed to hurt her. Not physicaly, she wasn’t afraid of him that way at al, but probably by working her so hard until she wished he had knocked her out.

And if she didn’t measure up, if she didn’t comply with his every little whim, she was out. No job, no mortgage payments for her parents, no meteoric rise in the corporate world for her. And the matter of their sleeping arrangements. What was he going to say when she found herself a hotel room?
If you leave this house you’re fired, Miss Douglas?
What if he said something like that? Such a statement, of course, would be tantamount to sexual harassment, but how would she prove it? Al he had to say was that she didn’t do the job and he fired her. End of discussion. Case thrown out. And on top of al of that, she thought, her head beginning to spin with worry, she was growing to like the joker! Every time he looked at her, every time he touched her with those big, strong hands of his, she was ready to get buck wild and let him have his way. The man who held her future in his hands, not to mention her parents future. She was in trouble, she thought.

They began a slow walk along the sidewalk of the town square. Tori was surprised, expecting Ethan to immediately jump in his Lexus and get started with the torture. But he didn’t even mention work.

He draped his suit coat over his broad shoulder and they began to cruise along, going nowhere slowly, trying to bask in the cool breeze coming off of the surrounding waters, a breeze that occasionaly hit them in the face. The town, though busy, wasn’t very crowded, making the walk less about getting on with it and more about looking around at it. Ethan, also to Tori’s surprise, was the first to start up the conversation.

“Sorry again,” he said.

Tori looked at him. “About what?”

“My stereotypic comment about females and dumping you in that lump.”

“Oh that,” Tori said, smiling. “No, I’m not one of those desperate women searching for a husband, Karl Brennan needn’t worry about that. Although I used to be.”

“You used to be desperate?”

“No. I used to be searching for a husband. I just didn’t like what I found.”

“Losers and other characters, something like that?”

“Yep.”

“How old are you, Tori?” Ethan asked, praying that she was older than she looked.

“Twenty-five,” she said and he shook his head. She was even younger, he thought. He wasn’t getting any breaks.

“How old are you?” she asked him.

He smiled. Too old for you, he wanted to say. “Forty,” he said instead, and then looked at her.

“Forty?” she asked incredulously, which made him feel even worst.

“Yes,” he said, unable to hide his regret. “At least I wil be in a few months.”

“Yes,” he said, unable to hide his regret. “At least I wil be in a few months.”

“But I thought you were. . .”

“Younger?” Ethan asked, suddenly disappointed that he wasn’t. But when Tori didn’t respond, he panicked. “Or did you think, God forbid, that I was
older
?”

“No, no, I just. . .” Tori didn’t know what to say. How could she tel the man she was growing to like that she’d read every article ever written on him and every one puts his age at thirty-eight? It wasn’t a significant difference from the age he was teling her, but it was a difference, and it made her wonder if anything in those articles were accurate.