Page 85 of A Real Good Bad Thing

The waitress arrived with our dinners and set down the plates. After she left, Ruby picked up her sandwich and returned to the conversation. “What kind of lawyer does Brandt want to be?”

“Prosecutor. He wants to save the world.”

“Is that because of your parents and what happened to them?” she asked and took a bite of her panini.

“He doesn’t want to see that happen again. He wants to fight back. Find justice.” I bit into my sandwich too. Delicious.

“It’s kind of amazing how you both have the same intense focus and drive. But then it’s not that surprising, either, I suppose. Is he like you in other ways?”

“Meaning is he charming, witty, and good-looking?”

She laughed. “Is he?”

“He is. I can say that about my little brother, right? He’s a handsome guy.” I grabbed my phone and scrolled to my photos. As we ate, I showed Ruby pics of the whole crew—my favorite people in the universe.

While we scrolled, a note flashed on the screen from my little sister.

Kylie: Almost ready for the test. I just have one problem that’s driving me crazy. It’s on frictional forces and I want to CRY.

I showed it to Ruby. “See? This is what I mean about Kylie. Nervous wreck. Poor kid.”

Ruby furrowed her brow. “Is that for her physics test?”

When I nodded, she finished chewing, then set down the sandwich, took a drink, and said, “I won’t pretend I’m a rocket scientist, but I know how to work my way through frictional forces. I could help her.”

I stared at her like she’d dropped a birthday present in my lap. “You could?”

She nodded enthusiastically. “I could and I would. Want to call her and I can walk her through how to solve that type of problem?”

“You’re an angel,” I said, and she beamed.

My heart raced with giddy excitement, a surge of joy I hadn’t felt in ages. I blinked, as if I could chase away this foreign feeling, but it had no plans for departure. Happiness had lodged inside me, and that was terrifying and wonderful at the same damn time.

As she talked to Kylie, I told myself this feeling was relief at my little sister getting the help she badly needed. I tried to convince my brain that my heart wasn’t hammering against my rib cage over the caring way she spoke to my sister, or how she’d talked about my siblings over dinner, or the genuine joy she’d shown while spending time in the ocean with me an hour ago.

Nope. No way my heart was fluttering for the woman. And I was too smart to fall for someone I worked with. To prove it, I turned to work. I wouldn’t talk personal lives. I’d talk partnership. So, as Ruby wrapped up the conversation with Kylie and then stepped away to the ladies’ room, I looked something up on my phone.

See? I was doing this for someone I valued as a one-time-only partner, not for the woman inspiring all sorts of crazy feelings about her and for her.

Though as I wrote a few quick lines, I knew—I absolutely knew—that I was lying to myself.

41

BUTTERFLY RESISTANCE

Ruby

I stared into the mirror in the ladies’ room and tried to center myself with one of Mom’s yoga mantras. To calm my racing emotions and the fast-forward imagining of future possibilities with Jake.

Meeting his family. Getting to know the people he loved most.

I shook my head. What on earth had gotten into me? We’d agreed to an island tryst. I’d promised myself I wouldn’t think too much about the future.

But conversation with Jake was so very easy. Even the massive misunderstanding that had nearly derailed us was a speck in the rearview mirror, and Jake and I seemed to be growing closer.

How hadthathappened? This was supposed to be just business, then it was supposed to be an island fling. And now I wasfeeling more?

Maybe it was the time factor. The steady ticking of the clock as it marched toward the end of this trip surely had tricked me into believing something was brewing between us. As I finished washing my hands and grabbed a paper towel, I reminded myself that this was an arbitrary intimacy, born of island breezes and too much sunshine. None of the factors should lead to a rapidly beating heart; to flushed cheeks; to the dopey, happy look in the eyes of my reflection as I pictured more days and nights with him.

---