“No need.”
She heard him settle into bed a few minutes later. He shifted and sighed before his breath became slow and even.
He was right there. She had him, but she wouldn’t get to keep him.
12
MONDAY
In the morning,she woke up to see that Ren was sleeping in the other bed. He looked tired, she thought, which made sense after he had stayed up checking out locations almost until dawn. He looked scruffy, unshaven, his hand pushed against his face. He was not an elven prince this morning; he looked reassuringly real. She let herself watch him for a long moment before she forced herself to get up.
There was a message on her phone from Owen: “I confirmed that you cannot take vacation without more notice. If you do not return to the office today, we will have to let you go.”
Sarah leaned against the wall for a moment, considering what to do. She suspected that Owen hadn’t had time to ask anyone about firing her. This felt like an executive decision coming from him. She was blowing up her life, and it didn’t feel like that big of a problem. Why didn’t it feel like a problem? She let out a delirious little laugh. Maybe she would regret this later, but she couldn’t bring herself to regret it now.
She showered, got dressed, and then walked outside the hotel onto the wide wooden deck that stretched out from one side of the lobby to overlook the view.
Standing in the breeze with the spectacular vista of a bay and mountains, she dialed Owen’s work number. He answered at once.
“Hello, Sarah.”
“Hey, Owen. I’m so sorry that I won’t be able to make it back. I can provide the names of other photographers?—”
“Sarah,” he said, “if we bend the rules for you, we have to do that for everyone. I hope you understand that this is not how professional businesses work.”
A year ago, she would probably have groveled and agreed to come back. But she couldn’t bring herself to do it, not after running around in the dark taking pictures with Ren all night.
“I’m really sorry,” she replied. “I’ll be back next week, but I can understand if you can’t hold my position for me.”
“I’m sorry, too.”
She said a polite goodbye before she hung up the phone.What a beautiful view, she thought.And also, I’m fired.
She had a quick breakfast in the hotel restaurant and then returned to her hotel room, where Ren was emerging from the bathroom, his hair wet from a shower, wearing only pants.
“Sorry, I’ll put on a shirt,” he said, looking embarrassed.
“It’s okay,” she said. “I think I can handle your bare chest.”
He gave a sharp smile, and she realized that wasn’t what he’d meant. “Brutal, Sarah,” he said. “You’re brutal.”
“No!” Now she had to scramble to get out of the hole she had stepped into. “I just meant that I’m immune. I’m immune to all men right now.”
“Oh,” he said, grinning. “So if I did this…” and he struck a mock bodybuilder pose, “you would feel nothing? This isn’t sweeping you away?”
He was teasing, but he looked nice. And even worse, he was being charming and self-deprecating. “Okay, okay. Put your shirt on, Durand.”
“Sarah Drakenberg checking me out. After all this time.”
He grinned as he pulled a shirt on.
While Ren headedout to meet a workshop participant who had arrived early, Sarah checked her work email to see if she had received any kind of ‘you’re fired’ missive yet, but so far even Owen didn’t seem quite that organized, so she headed to the lobby.
Ren was standing next to a tall, handsome man who had the casual confidence and square-jawed good looks of someone selling expensive watches on the back of a men’s magazine.
“…not nearly as good as yours,” the man was saying. “If I go back to Namibia, I’m definitely doing it with you. Which is a good idea, speaking of. We should plan something in Africa.”
This must be one of the workshop participants. She had heard Ren talk about his Silicon Valley clients and had pictured computer nerds in the Bill Gates mold, but this man looked like he owned a yacht but didn’t make a big thing about it.
