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She was being coy, he knew. “How long does it typically take you on average to get a shot you’re happy with?”
She turned her head and eyed him mischievously. “Oh… I got the shot I wanted within the first five minutes… the other fifty-five, I spent taking it all in.”
“So it’s gonna be like this, huh?”
She smiled, wryly. “I’m not sure I know what you mean,” she paused and held up her hands making quotations in the air, “when you say like this.”
Jack exhaled slowly. “I know you’re angry with me about what I said earlier.”
She didn’t miss a beat. “And I know that you’re trying to force my hand.”
The guide eyed them in the rear view mirror. Amelie, with all of her misplaced anger, shot him a go to hell look at which point he promptly focused his gaze back on the road. “Force your hand? Force your hand to do what?” Jack scoffed. “I swear… that has to be the craziest thing I’ve ever heard.”
Amelie leaned forward and peered at the driver. She spoke calmly, her voice giving nothing away. “Excuse me, sir. Can you please pull the car over?” The driver slowed and did as she asked. She yanked at the passenger door handle, got out, and slammed it behind her. Jack followed out the opposite door. She lunged at him, but he dodged her by stepping back quickly. “Yes! Yes. I am fucking crazy. Is that what you want to hear? Well, guess what? I might be crazy, Jack Harrison, but you… YOU are full of shit.”
He laughed, clearly amused, which only seemed to fuel her anger. “Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah. Fuck you, Jack. I am not… I will not let you put this on me,” she spat. “I know what you’re trying to do. And if you don’t want to marry her, that’s all you. I will not be the one to call the shots for you!”
“I’m not asking you to.”
“Bullshit!” she screamed. “You want me to tell you not to marry her. Tell me that I’m wrong.”
Jack rubbed his temples.
“Tell me I’m wrong, Jack. I want to hear you say it.”
“You’re not wrong.” He relented. “Look, if you’ll give me a chance… I’ll explain.” He looked around. “But not here, ok?”
She didn’t budge. “Why not here?”
Jack looked at her as though she hadn’t heard anything he’d just said. He pretended as though she hadn’t just said the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard. He gestured around them and spoke very carefully, slowly. “Because we’re in Iceland… on the side of the road… in the middle of fucking nowhere.”
She stared at him in defiance. He smiled, opened the car door, and motioned toward the backseat with his hand. “Get in the car, Amelie.”
She bit her lip and glanced from him to the car and back.
“Get in the goddamned car,” he ordered.
“Please.”
Reluctantly, she did as he asked.
The driver turned. “Lovers quarrels…” He sighed. “Why must I always get stuck with your kind?” he mocked.
Amelie rolled her eyes. “We are not lovers.”
Jack glared at her.
The driver pressed the gas pedal hard. He looked back and laughed. “The hell you’re not, lady.”
EIGHTEEN
Later that day, they took in an art museum, and then finally, what Amelie had been most looking forward to, The Blue Lagoon—one of the most visited places in all of Iceland. A man made lagoon, which had been turned into a spa that was fed by the water output from a nearby geothermal power plant. It was one of the most beautiful places she had ever seen, and Amelie continued taking pictures long after Jack had been in the water.
“You’re coming in, right?” he called.
Amelie nodded, finally putting her equipment away. She stripped down and tiptoed into the water before inching back out a little. It was warmer than she’d expected.
