Overcoming Fear (Growing Pains #2) (38 page)

It took about two minutes before a guy about
her age started to swim closer. She was not only fresh meat, but
the only girl not vying for Sean’s attention.

Wait—not true. Rocket Boob over there was
also on her own. She probably didn’t count, though.

“Hey,” the youngish guy said by way of
greeting. He had dirty blue eyes and short blond hair. As in, buzz
cut short. He was good looking, if no Sean, and thin shouldered.
The rest of him was below water, and Krista wasn’t interested
enough to scope it out.

“Hi.”

“I’m Adam.”

“Hi. I’m Krista.”

“Oh hey.” He kind of turned away, but stayed
in her vicinity. Apparently that was him hanging out with her.

Krista rolled her eyes. Being close and not
talking was middle school behavior—Freshman, tops. She was not in
the mood to relive those days, so she leisurely swam towards the
edge of the pool where her stuff was.

It was then that she realized it wasn’t just
one or two stray guys who took notice. It was most of the male
horde. They were all gathered around her stuff, some looking at
her, some at Adam, and some at the crazy boobs of John’s woman.

Krista decided that turning around and
swimming in the opposite direction as fast as she could would look
weird, so she kept paddling in. The good news was, she didn’t feel
so ugly. Bad news was, she now had to talk to these clowns. She
wasn’t sure that was much better than the businessmen.

“That was a nice dive,” said one of the guys
loitering around her stuff. He had brown eyes and auburn hair that
was drying every which way. He was attractive in a boy band sort of
way.

All of them were, actually. They were all
cut from the same mold. An expensive mold, but unoriginal. All
slightly above average looking, all with shortish hair, all with
preppie accents, and all thinking too much of themselves. They were
the children of the surrounding families, and the surrounding
families were rich, and probably ran empires. Krista was again the
stinking pauper. No more office parties!

“Thanks,” she said, not even bothering to
feign interest.

She hopped out of the pool ten or so feet
from him and the others, and sighed in resignation when a few of
them got up and moved over.

“Do you know any more?” Brown Eyes
asked.

“What, dives?” To his nod she said, “A
couple. I try to switch up my repertoire as the day wears on.”

It was a joke. He didn’t laugh. Either he
didn’t get it, didn’t think it was funny, or was too busy being
misunderstood to laugh.

After a second of realizing something was
expected of him, he smiled and said, “Oh, cool. You want something
to drink?”

Yes!
“Sure.”

“Beer?”

Champagne!
“Great.”

“’
Kay.” He turned to look
for one of his friends. “Billy! Get two beers, will-ya?”

There was a disembodied “yeah” before Brown
Eyes refocused on her. Krista did a quick check of her suit to make
sure she was all tucked inside. She would hate to think she was
luring them.

Oh wait, she had a vagina—yeah, she was
luring them.

“So, who are you here with?” he said,
returning to the ‘getting to you know you’ stage of the
conversation.

“My company.”

“Oh, cool. You work in the city or around
here?”

“City. I’m from Seattle originally so this
is my first time in Marin.”

“Oh, cool. How do you like it so far?”

Billy, a somewhat ugly kid
in his late teens, showed up
sans
beers. “That watcher-woman wouldn’t let me. She
said I wasn’t old enough.”

“Well, tell her it’s for me and my
friend--?”

“Krista.”

“Krista.” Brown Eyes was flashing a mean
scowl. He probably learned it from his dad.

“I did,” Billy whined. “She said to send you
up yourself!”

Brown Eyes sighed and turned back to Krista.
“Hard to find good help!”

Eww. That was a dick thing to say. “No
problem. I need a walk, anyway.”

She was up and walking away before Brown
Eyes could even blink. Billy bobbed behind her.

She found the stern looking staff member in
front of the beer and wine table and approached without hesitation.
Krista hoped she didn’t get carded because her purse with her ID
was upstairs with her sweater.

As soon as she was in front of the table,
however, the stern face became a smile. “How may I assist you, Miss
Marshall?”

“Wha—“
How’d she know my name??
It was so
very big brother.

“She’ll have a champagne, and I’ll have a
beer, please.”

Krista’s stomach turned upside down and a
teensy bit of pee escaped.

“Of course, Mr. McAdams.”

Chapter Twenty-Six

The alcohol monitor swiveled her eyes, “Mr.
Rochester, I assume you have business elsewhere?”

Krista spun around and saw two things—one
was that Billy was scampering off, and the other was that Sean was
looking down into her soul, devouring her with sparkling eyes.

“Hi,” she breathed.

“Miss Marshall, your champagne?”

Krista turned back on a cloud, grabbed her
champagne from the friendly staff member with stern tendencies, and
stepped out of the way so Sean could step up. He received his beer
and turned back to her.

“You made it,” he said with a smile and
intense eyes. It seemed like it was just the two of them standing
there; everything else fell away.

“Um, yes. Of course. We had to, right?” She
was having a confidence problem. It was also hard to focus with
that bare chest so close to her mouth.

“For the most part, yes. I just—“

“Ah, there you are.” It was Brown Eyes.
Persistent little fucker.

Standing, he was about Sean’s height, but
nowhere near his weight class. His thin, bony frame and tiny waist
made him look like a boy next to Sean’s man. He didn’t let that
bother him. He marched up like he owned the place.

“Stella, a beer please. And next time I send
Billy, do me a favor and give him what he asks for. He’s my running
boy for the day.”

Stern lady was back. “Hello
Mr. Rochester. As I said, I am under strict orders to give
alcoholic beverages to those over twenty-one-years-of-age
only
.”

“Stella, I would hate to talk to Tory about
this,” Brown Eyes didn’t seem like he was showing off. He
legitimately thought telling on Stella for doing her job was the
right way to play it.

Krista stared; she was baffled.

“I would hate for you to interrupt his day
as well, but if you feel you need to then, by all means. I will
need to hear from him or Mrs. Hartling directly, of course, should
any protocol change.” Stern turned to stone.

Krista started inching away. She would
freely admit it: Stella scared her a little.

“Fine,” Brown Eyes said, with his hands on
his hips. “Just give me a beer.”

“Of course,” Stone lady answered.

Krista had had enough. She wanted to hang
out with Sean. She turned to him, with that intent, but two of his
groupies were on scene, standing close, trying to get his attention
with their chests out and their eyes trying to scare off the
competition.

It wasn’t meant to be. When she finally
looked at Sean, he was watching her with frustration.

“Well,” she said, nodding toward his fan
club.

He glanced behind him quickly then turned
back to her, “Did you…”

“That was a mess, huh?”
Brown Eyes asked, cutting Sean off as he stepped up to Krista. “Oh
hey. Sean McAdams,
right?”

Sean’s eyes regretfully pivoted away from
Krista and somewhat lost their focus as he looked at Brown Eyes.
“Correct. And you are?”

“James Rochester the
Third
,” James stuck out
his hand and puffed up his bony chest. He couldn’t have been much
more than twenty-one, but he thought he owned the world already. He
was probably the first born, and set to inherit a
empire.

“Of course. Your father owns a winery in
Napa, is that right?”

“Sonoma, actually, yes. Voted the ’Best
Along the Wine Tour 2012!’”

“Okay, well, see you boys later,” Krista
said.

Sean’s head snapped back to her and he
opened his mouth to say something, but as his groupies—there were
four now—stepped up to him, he regretfully nodded.

She got back to the pool
and did another dive. Once in, she stayed in for a while, but
wanted her champagne, so she headed back to the clan of boys to
retrieve it. What she needed was a raft with a drink holder. That
was the way to go. Unfortunately, there were no floaty devices in
view. Worse still, James Rochester the
Third
was waiting for
her.

“Hey. You got your champagne,” he said. He
looked like the leader of this clan. Billy, who was bringing over
strawberries for her, unasked, was the minion.

She thanked Billy and received a weird bow.
He then ogled her breasts for a second before he took off.

“He’s my brother.”

“Ah. Errand boy by day, brother by night,
huh?”

James blinked in response. For a prominent
guy’s son, he seemed a bit dense.

Unconcerned, Krista drank some of her
champagne and noticed a few other guys sat down around her, all
talking animatedly about some computer game called “Call of Duty.”
Krista was starting to think she misjudged their ages. She didn’t
know anyone her age who played video games nonstop and sounded this
stupid talking about it. Especially around a member of the opposite
sex.

If Rocket Boobs wasn’t so awful, Krista
would’ve gotten up and joined her area of the pool.

“Where you headed?” someone asked.

Krista didn’t bother to answer. Maybe they’d
think she was a bitch and go away.

She did a dive where she touched her toes in
mid-air before hitting the water. She stayed down for as long as
possible, swimming toward the middle where there weren’t as many
people, and popped back up. She needed to figure out how long she’d
have to stay before she could leave and use the pool in her
hotel.

When she finally surfaced she scanned the
far side. She didn’t see Sean anywhere. She turned to her back and
floated for a while, soaking up the sun and happy to have peace and
quiet for the first time all day.

When she felt the water disturbance near
her, she opened her eyes. Sean was treading water next to her,
completely relaxed.

“You seem pretty content in the water,” she
noticed.

That was putting it mildly. He looked like
an otter.

“Surfer. It would be a dire thing if I
wasn’t.”

“True.”

“You, however, are quite at home yourself
for someone who panics when a wave hits her.”

“Okay, I wasn’t expecting that, so it
doesn’t count. Two, it was, like, two degrees. I can swim just
fine, but currents and rip tides and what not is a little
nerve-wracking.”

“And sharks.”

“Yeah, sharks. And freezing water.”

He was lazily swimming around her. “That is
why you wear a wetsuit.”

“Still cold. Especially on your face and
hands.”

“And feet.”

“You are throwing up an argument, and then
helping me throw up an opposition. Why?”

“I’m helpful.”

“You are also in girl-pleasing mode. Your
cheerleaders are getting restless.” And they were. The girls were
looking at Krista with hate and Sean with longing. Some were slowly
drifting out their way.

“Yours, too.”

Krista didn’t want to look. Nor did she want
to go back. “They are not cheerleaders, thank you very much. They
are my spirit squad.”

Sean laughed unexpectedly loudly. He
apparently didn’t see that one coming.

“I stopped by your house to get you but Ben
said you had already left. I’m sorry, I should have called.”

“I took the bus to Marin and got a hotel
room.”

Sean’s face went from humor to blank in a
flash. “Oh.”

“What?”

“Nothing. Did, ah, you plan on having
company later?”

“No, actually. Don’t look so worried--I
wasn’t planning on seducing you. I just thought I might drink and
wanted to enjoy the area instead of having to catch a bus. I have a
day at the spa planned tomorrow. Then the bus back, because I’ve
been too busy to find a car. Your fault.”

“I wasn’t worried about you seducing me,” he
continued his lazy lap.

“Oh, you were worried about me seducing one
of their fathers,” she nodded toward his slowly approaching fan
club. “Or were you thinking I had planned to overthrow Blondie and
snag John?”

Sean smiled in an “I’m an idiot” sort of
way. “You’d have to get a boob job in order to overthrow Blondie. I
have a feeling John doesn’t know what real boobs feel like
anymore.”

“Gross. They look really hard.”

“I will abstain from the rest of this
conversation.”

“Eww. Please do. I don’t want to hear about
your conquests. Also, your cheerleaders are starting to creep me
out. I’m going to head to the shore.”

Sean glanced behind him and then slightly
shook his head. “It was a toss-up between adoring girls or
over-anxious old farts. Had the farts been in the pool, I would
have gone that route. But, and don’t take my word for it, you’ve
got a similar problem led by the winemaker’s son.”

She stopped floating for a minute and
looked. There they were, just as Sean said, slowly floating out in
her direction. There were five of them, all following James’s
lead.

“Alright, until next time,” she said, giving
Sean a wink and swimming toward the side in the middle of the pool,
away from the Team Sean camp, and away from her own fan club.