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For the next week,I work in the orchard during the day and spend every evening with Harlan, usually in a cove on the beach. My co-workers are an odd bunch. They’re all couples and they stick together, walking around with weird smiles on their faces and talking in hushed tones. I suspect many of them are high, so I stay clear. I need my wits about me, not to be coerced into smoking or ingesting weed with a bunch of hippies.
They’re amenable enough, but whenever Magnus appears, the atmosphere changes. They become subservient underlings, bowing down to a cult leader. Not literally, but that’s the general impression I get, that they see him as some kind of god and will do anything to appease him.
I asked Spencer about it and he warned me not to delve because I may not like what I find, so I mainly keep to myself when working and don’t engage with the others beyond a polite nod and greeting.
As for the time spent with Harlan in a secluded cove in the evenings… I hate to admit it, but I’m falling for him against my better judgement. I can’t help it. He’s charming and sweet, with a bad boy edge. I can’t put my finger on it, but he gives off a dangerous vibe, like anyone who gets too close will be swept up in his sphere. He’s magnetic, one of those people you want to be near and are powerless to resist yet know that maybe you shouldn’t get too close.
We talk about anything and everything while sheltered by that cove, sitting on a picnic blanket on the sand, sharing sandwiches and soda packed by Daphne. She’s never asked Harlan why he asks for a portable supper almost every evening. Then again, she wouldn’t question the boss. And if she suspects he’s sharing his picnic with me, she’s never said. I guess she values her job as much as I do.
When I first arrived here, I hoped Daphne and I could become friends. She’s twenty, only a few years older than me, but she makes my introversion seem like I’m a party animal. Yeah, she’s that quiet. She only speaks when needed—usually to order me around—but our silences are companionable as we work side by side and I’m okay with that. Better a friendly introvert than a mean co-worker.
During our evenings in the cove, Harlan talks about his plans for Arcania once he’s in control—apparently his parents have hinted relinquishing the management to him within the next few years—his fervent belief the priceless gold compass exists, and his dreams for us.
The latter scares me the most, as I’m terrified of giving my heart to a guy, only to have him squash it like a bug. I’ve seen it happen to Mom repeatedly over the years and I vowed never to be like her, yet here I am in danger of falling for Harlan.
To offset my ridiculously spiraling crush on a guy way out of my league, I spend time with Spencer, too. He’s the opposite of Harlan and he grounds me. Spencer is light to Harlan’s dark, fun to his intensity, teasing to his seriousness. I shouldn’t compare the two but I can’t help it. And while I’d never want to annoy Harlan, considering he’s technically my employer—and has made it more than clear he sees a future for us—I know deep down if it came to a choice between the two men, I’d choose Spencer.
I’m not cut out to be a lady of the manor, which is clearly the role Harlan sees me falling into. I’ll never be as polished as him, as wrapped up in Arcania, as he is. And he can reiterate repeatedly how much his parents love me, but I don’t believe it. The few times we interact, Magnus and Helga are polite but distant, at complete odds with their weird effusiveness when they first hired me.
An hour ago, Harlan professed his love for me while strolling along the beach and I’d silently freaked. If he noticed I didn’t say it back, he ignored it; instead, he’d demonstrated his feelings by kissing me until I was dizzy. But I’d been relieved when he had to attend a business meeting with his parents, saving me from falsely professing my feelings.
Do I like Harlan? Yes.
Do I love him? No.
Do I see a future with him? Maybe.
But it’s way too early to be making declarations and after he leaves me on the beach, I continue to walk until dusk falls. The crashing waves drown out my thoughts and the briny tang of the ocean clears my head, so when I get back to Arcania I’m thinking more clearly.
If Harlan pressures me, I’ll tell him I care about him, but I want to take things slow. I might even give him a snippet about my past and Mom’s dramas so he understands where I’m coming from. It’s not a refusal, but a clear message to slow things down.
My legs are aching from walking so far as I trudge up the path from the beach toward the house. As I near the orchard, I hear the loud boom of bass, a strange pounding rhythm that reverberates through me, and bursts of raucous laughter.
The workers are having a party, the first since I’ve been here. I’m tired and want to head to my room, but it’ll be a good opportunity to get to know them better. I don’t enjoy being the odd person out here. Not that I plan on divulging anything personal, not even to Harlan, but I’ll feel better if I have a friend here, someone I can count on.
As if my wish makes him materialize, Spencer appears from between the nearest apple trees. His face lights up when he spots me and my heart gives an answering thump. It would be so easy to fall into a relationship with him but I don’t want to anger Harlan. I’ve lucked into a steady job, I’m saving money, and I’m free. I’d be a fool to mess with that.
“Hey, Cora.” He raises his hand as he lopes toward me, his strides long and easy. Everything about him is relaxed. “How was your day?”
“Good. Busy. Just getting back from a walk along the beach.”
“Alone?” He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively and I laugh. “That’s a shame. You can ask me to accompany you next time.”
“Who says I was alone?”
He’s crestfallen for a moment before his mouth eases into a grin. “Well, I know for a fact you weren’t with Harlan because he’s playing the dutiful son for the monthly ‘going over the accounts with Mommy and Daddy.’ So that leaves the door wide open for me.”
I roll my eyes. “To do what?”
“Whisk you away to a party. Come on.”
He holds his hand out and I stare at it for a second before quelling my inner voice, the one that’s warning me I’m playing with fire by crushing on two guys and slip my hand into his.
He tugs on my hand, and I stumble against him. He chuckles and lowers his head to murmur in my ear, “That’s my girl. Let’s go have some fun.”
I refrain from saying ‘I can’t be your girl’ because, technically, Harlan thinks I’m his. That’s when it hits me; what I’m doing, by inadvertently encouraging Spencer, could cost him—and me—our jobs.
I try to yank my hand free, but Spencer tightens his grip and then we’re in the midst of the party. Everyone is dancing, whirling around and around with their arms flung overhead, the bass so loud I feel the pounding in my skull. A few people wave at me, but most appear trance-like, and I know drugs must feature in their after-hour activities too.
