The ambiguity gave her a moment to think. She could start answering work emails, responding to questions about the weeks ahead, communicating in her usual way with the corporate communications team, and she might be able to smooth things over. Or she could take a leap and land somewhere entirely different.
She paused to look up Ren’s next three workshops on his website: the Galapagos Islands in August; Antelope Canyon in Arizona in October; Lapland, Finland in mid-December to shoot the Northern Lights.
She could go to the most beautiful places in the world with Ren and help people learn photography. Or she could go back to her safe corporate job and deal with Owen’s emails about how she hadn’t taken appropriately detailed minutes for a meeting that only involved the two of them.
She was going to say yes to Ren, wasn’t she?
She was going to get her life back and her heart broken. She was going to say yes because it was better to feel alive and hurt than to feel safe and dead inside. She refused to be like her mother, chained by fear. She was going to say yes to Ren and his goddamned job offer. Ren, who was so funny and helpful and supportive and so not interested in kissing her.
When Ren appeared in their hotel room later that afternoon, he gave her that same affectionate smile.
“Hey, sorry about taking off again,” he said.
“Don’t apologize to me. You’re the one involved in a sleep deprivation experiment with a millionaire.”
“He means well,” Ren said, though she wondered. “He’s just one of those guys who likes a challenge.”
“There are extra sandwiches in the refrigerator. Take one of those and then rest for a few minutes before we have to go set up the classroom.”
He nodded. “I will. Thanks.” As she gathered the equipment they would need to set up the workshop, she heard his voice behind her, quieter. “Thank you, Sarah.”
“Of course.”
The workshop planwas for the attendees to spend most of the rainy afternoon in the classroom, reviewing photos from their shoots and talking about techniques. There was hope they might have a decent chance at catching a subtle aurora on either Thursday or Friday, and the possibility meant getting everyone ready.
That afternoon, Ren talked to them about locations, camera settings, and possible foreground/background options. He explained that he had locked down the plan to charter a boat to a spot on a lake where they would stay all night…and with luck, a bit of an aurora might appear.
Once again, Elka called Ren over to her table at dinner and Sarah accepted it. If she said yes to his job offer, she would get many more workshops to hang out with Ren. She would get many more days of watching women pursue him.
She excused herself from her table as soon as the meal was finished, and Kyle followed her out.
“Hey,” he said. “Want to have a nightcap? It’s pouring out there, and I picked up some wine.”
“I’m sorry. I’m really tired,” she said automatically.
Back in the room, she told herself that maybe she should hook up with Kyle; it would certainly distract her from the mess of feelings that Ren provoked. But she didn’t work that way; she never had. She got into pajamas and flipped on the television. On screen was an old episode ofBuffy the Vampire Slayerthat she had watched obsessively in her teens, so she tucked up under the covers, listening to the steady drum of the rain outside.
A few minutes later, Ren surprised her by walking in the door. She waited for him to say that he was stopping by on his way to somewhere else or heading out with Kyle for more shooting.
“I’m wiped out,” he said. “This is my night to catch up on sleep.”
“I can turn this off.”
“No need,” he said. “I’ll sleep right through it.”
She tried to ignore him when he emerged from the bathroom in the t-shirt and pajama bottoms that constituted his sleep wear. It felt like they were having a little slumber party. If she accepted the job offer, would they share rooms in the future? Or was this a one-time thing? She supposed that if he wanted to hook up with pretty women, having his own space was better. Or maybe he would assume she preferred it. They were grown-ups, after all. But this had been nice. She would miss this, she realized, if this was the last time they ever did it.
“Buffy? I remember this episode,” he said as he leaned back in bed, watching an attractive young teenager tearfully discussed her doomed love for an undead vampire.
“You’re kidding. You’ve seen this?”
Ren shrugged. “I watched a few episodes with Ellen.”
Sarah recalled Ren’s brief fling with uptight Ellen, whom Ren had dated for a few weeks in the middle of Sarah’s early days with Ivan. Ellen and Ren had held intense debates about moral philosophy and feminist theory during their brief three-week relationship; Sarah felt surprised that they were also watching teen television in Ellen’s room afterwards.
“Was that your strategy for getting women into bed at McGill?” she asked. “Agreeing to watch their shows?”
“You think I needed a strategy?” he asked with a grin.
