Jennifer Crusie - Manhunting

“Could you take this for me?” she asked him. “I’ll bring the drinks.”

They ate with Penny and Chad at one of the ubiquitous round redwood tables, and the night passed slowly-excruciatingly slowly-while people whooped and screeched around them.

Lance said something and Penny laughed, so Kate laughed, too, only a beat behind. Lance didn’t seem to mind.

“Lance, you’re such a riot,” Penny said. “Don’t you think so, Kate?”

“Absolutely. Anyone for another Scotch?” She toddled back to the bar by the pool before any of them could join her.

“Hello, Mark,” she said, leaning on the bar.

“Hello, Kate,” the bartender said, laughing. “How’s it going?”

“Don’t ask.”

Mark leaned forward a little. “What are you doing with that Lance creep, anyway? He’s trouble.”

“It’s a long story. How about another Scotch?”

“You sure?”

“Kate, honey,” Lance said from behind her. “I couldn’t find you anywhere.”

“I’m sure,” Kate said to Mark, and he shook his head and poured.

Kate took her Scotch and wandered over by the pool, and Lance followed her, hands outstretched. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Mark motion to someone outside the pool. Why did he do that? she wondered, and then concentrated on handling Lance. She listened to him for a while, skillfully evading his hands, but finally gave up. It was no use. She could drink enough Scotch to fill the pool, and she still wouldn’t marry Lance.

She poured her Scotch into the pool.

“What are you doing?”

“Sobering up.”

“Oh, don’t do that, honey.” He put his hand on her rear end.

“Move your hand, Lance.”

He moved it around to her breast. “Come on, baby.”

“Better men than you have lost arms that way, Lance,” she said, moving his hand.

“I want you, Kate.” He reached around and squeezed her rear end.

“I don’t want you, Lance,” she said and pushed him into the pool.

“I wish you hadn’t done that,” Jake said from behind her.

“Where’d you come from?” Kate asked, watching Lance try to find the surface.

“Mark calls me if there’s trouble. That’s twice tonight he’s been a little worried about you. First Frank, now Lance.”

“Mark’s very sweet.”

“We both really enjoyed watching you with Lance.”

“Speaking of Lance, is he going to drown?”

“Give him a chance,” Jake said. “He’ll find the way up pretty soon.”

“And if he doesn’t?”

“Then I’ll help him.” Jake eased himself down until he was sitting on his heels by the pool. “See, here he comes.”

Lance broke sputtering through the surface of the water, and Jake reached down and caught him. When Lance caught his breath, he looked at Kate. “You lousy bi-”

Jake pushed his head back under the water for a minute and then hauled him up by his collar.

“Sorry, Lance. My hand slipped.” He pulled him dripping from the pool. Lance gagged, and Jake let him go and pounded him on the back.

“Well, it’s been a lovely evening, but I really must go.” Kate smiled at Jake. “Thank you again. Good night.” She waved to Mark and strolled out of the pool enclosure.

“I don’t think she’s your type, Lance,” she heard Jake say. “She doesn’t seem to appreciate a great guy like you.”

Jake helped Lance into the hotel and put him on the elevator to his room. Lance’s main topic of conversation was Kate, and he wasn’t flattering. “I hope that frozen bitch burns” was the last thing he said as the elevator doors closed.

Surprising himself, Jake disagreed. Yeah, she was frozen, but you had to admire a woman who could take care of a creep like Lance so neatly. She’d put him in the pool with one quick push and then stood calmly on the side waiting for him to come up. There was a lot to be said for a woman who could take care of herself. Then he stopped himself. Cool, efficient, independent. Those were the qualities he’d fallen for in a woman once before, and she’d turned out to be a chilly, expensive mistake. The same mistake his brother was about to make with Valerie. Don’t be dumb, Jake, he warned himself, and went back to the luau.

The light from the ginger-jar lamps on each side of the big bed filled the room with a soft glow. The room felt homey and warm, and Kate relaxed once her door was closed behind her.

Lance was just a mistake, she decided as she got ready for bed. Tomorrow she would do better. Tomorrow she would play golf with and fall in love with Peter, the public relations ace, and they would live successfully ever after, playing upscale golf in their free time.

For some reason, that prospect did not appeal to her and she fell asleep feeling vaguely uneasy about her own plan for the future. That unease followed her into her dreams, plaguing her with visions of overweight blond men trying to snare her with leis while she searched for somebody else-somebody she couldn’t remember when she woke up the next morning. I’m not even cooperating in my dreams, she thought as she climbed out of bed. Get back to your plan, Kate. Work on it.

The problem was that she hated her plan even more in the daylight than she had the night before. She wanted to be swept off her feet. She wanted to see him across a crowded room and love him so much and want him so much that she wouldn’t be able to stand it. Love at first sight. Love that would last forever.

Fat chance. She argued herself back to her game plan. After all, what she was looking for wasn’t love at first sight, anyway, because that kind of love didn’t last. No, she wanted a practical love, partnering a distinguished successful man; the kind of love that two people of similar backgrounds carefully and thoughtfully constructed for themselves. That was reality.

Get a grip on your life, woman! she thought. Make it happen. Go out and meet people this morning, have a nice lunch, and then play golf with Peter this afternoon. Something will happen. You can do it. Jessie said so.

She put on some of the new lacy underwear Jessie had picked out for her, and then covered it sensibly with beige shorts and a white sleeveless blouse. Her chignon looked a little formal with the shorts, so she just pulled her hair back and wound it into a loose knot. When she left the cabin, the sky was the clear, bright, vivid blue that only happens in August. The heat was building, but the breeze was cool and the trees were full of birds singing their heads off. She was pleased with herself and with the beautiful day, and she hummed as she strolled up to the hotel for a late nine o’clock breakfast Then Valerie caught her.

“We’re going to do wonderful things today,” Valerie told her, drawing her into a group of other late risers. The hotel as represented by Valerie obviously wanted its guests involved in life. Although that had been Kate’s sincere plan, when suddenly confronted with the reality of mingling with others, she backed off, appalled.

“Not right now, Valerie,” she said, trying to sidle off.

“Tennis, croquet, golf, horseback riding, or tag in the pool-what’s it going to be?” Valerie drew her inexorably back into the group.

I’d rather die, Kate thought.

“What’s it going to be, Kathy, honey?” Frank was in front of her, dressed in a wide-striped T-shirt, bouncing on his heels. “How about pool tag?” He leered at her. “I want to see you in that bathing suit.”

“I don’t think so.” Kate backed away again. “Thanks.”

She turned and saw Jake, walking down the drive, carrying fishing poles, a small six-pack cooler, and a duffel bag of what looked to be cushions. He was wearing cutoffs that had seen much better days, an old, torn, checked shirt, and his cowboy hat. He nodded briefly at her and walked past her toward the woods, his hat tilted down to keep the sun off his face.

“Well, you have to do something,” Valerie said with a determined smile. “You can’t just sit.”

“I am doing something.” Kate jerked her thumb at Jake. “I’m going fishing with Jake.” She turned and walked down the path behind him, taking long strides to catch up.

“You don’t actually have to take me fishing,” she told him, knowing he’d heard. “Just let me stay with you until we’re into the woods and I’m safe.”

He didn’t say anything for a minute, and then handed her the poles without looking at her or breaking his slow, relaxed amble. “There’s an extra pole and room in the boat.”

Kate hesitated a moment, but when she looked back, Valerie was watching her.

And I’m paying a lot of money for this, she thought. I’m going to kill Jessie. Then she sighed and turned to follow Jake through the woods to the lake.

The lake was small, secluded, and green. Pulled up on its stony shore was a wide shallow rowboat that looked like it had lost its paint before Kate had been born.

“This floats?”

“Oh, yeah.” Jake tossed the duffel in. “I wouldn’t jump up and down in it, but it floats.”

“There aren’t any seats,” Kate said.

“Somebody ripped them out once to use as oars.” Jake pushed the boat most of the way into the water. “Stack the cushions. If you’re still coming.”

Kate looked over her shoulder. Valerie was definitely out of sight, but she was also one of the most determined women Kate had ever met. Better to take no chances. She stepped carefully into the boat and dumped the duffel out There were half a dozen square blue plastic-covered boat cushions, and several faded-pink sofa pillows. She stacked three of the plastic cushions at each end and sat on one stack, her hands neatly folded in front of her. Jake climbed in opposite her and pushed off, rowing when the boat had floated a little way into the lake. It was the most energetic thing she’d seen him do, but even here he was lazy, rowing with long, slow strokes. She watched his hands on the oars and the flex of the muscles in his forearms, mesmerized by the slow movement of his body as he pulled the oars deeply through the water.