CHAPTER 2


CHAPTER 2


Preparing for her selfie, Cora angled the phone just up and slightly to the right, then turned her head and snapped the picture. Jade’s face on the screen looking back at her had a happy glow, a hint of excitement and anticipation. Inside, though, the real Cora struggled with nerves, anxiety, and a little foreboding.

Blind date tonight! Friend of a friend set us up. Hope he likes sports as much as I do.

She frowned as she read the caption. Blind Date Tonight. That wasn’t exactly true. It was a date, but she knew who her date was. A friend of a friend set us up. That was sort of true. She knew Davis liked hockey and he had claimed he watched them compete — a little bit of fake and a little bit of almost truth. It felt a little overdone, but it would get attention which was the intent. She found herself second guessing everything she did online ever since Davis had called her fake the last time they spoke. His words hurt her feelings a little bit, and that pain informed her that they held some truth. Maybe she needed to deal with that.

She walked to the mirror above her dresser and adjusted the strap of her dress. She wore a purple dress that hugged her figure. It had wide shoulder straps and straps that crossed over her chest in the front, making wearing any kind of necklace unnecessary. Instead, she wore several bracelets on both arms and large silver hoop earrings.

She didn’t want to be fake. Granted, she was playing a part and, sure, she was getting paid to play that part. Certainly, there would be some people who would choose to believe this “romance” was the real deal while VelTech’s international marketing department turned Dauntless Davis and Jade Anderson into America’s newest sweethearts. Could she live with that? Was this pretend romantic match going to hurt anyone? Was it going to hurt her?

Just as she finished applying lipstick that matched her dress, she heard the doorbell ring. She scooped up her shoes and rushed through the house.

Determined to make this night fun despite their original hostilities, she smiled as she opened the door. She did not expect the thoughts about how handsome Davis looked. He wore black slacks and a black button-down shirt that he’d left open at the collar. She also didn’t expect to think about how good his aftershave smelled as it mingled with the sea breeze coming off the water of the Cape.

“Hi,” she greeted, opening her door wider. “Welcome.”

He did not return her smile. “Thanks.” She stepped aside as he entered the cottage.

Her parents had bought the little home on Cape Cod before she and her twin brother were born. She’d come here for summers her entire life, but tried to see it through his eyes. An island bar separated the living area and kitchen. A dining nook sat against a wall of windows that looked out on dune grass and sand dunes. In the distance, she could see the dark blue of Cape Cod highlighted with staccato whitecaps hinting at the evening tide to come.

Pastel rugs covered gleaming Spanish tile floors, and cream-colored couches and chairs topped with pastel pillows formed a cozy sitting area. Her mother’s paintings of harbors and ships graced the walls. White stones formed a fireplace, and lanterns flanked a large blue wooden anchor on the mantel.

She thought of all the friends and family who had filled the three bedrooms upstairs and the two queen-sized sofa beds in this room over the years. Her thoughts then turned to all the volleyball games she’d played out there on the snow-white sand. As much as she loved her parents’ home in Boston and all the living her family had done there, this little cottage on the shore of Cape Cod held cherished moments, precious memories, and as her life became very public, the walls provided a sanctuary where she could just hide from the world and relax. When she walked in the doors, tension shed from her body and she felt herself come together. She felt closer to God, felt like she could think clearer and could breathe cleaner.

“Nice place,” Davis observed, standing in the middle of the room with his hands in his pockets. He turned just his upper body and caught her eye. “Thought you lived in Virginia.”

“I do. I grew up in Boston, though. And this is just my family’s summer home.” His eyebrow twitched, and so did the corner of his mouth. Was that a stifled smirk again? Was he looking down on her because of her parents' financial success? Cora couldn’t help but raise her voice a little as if to speak over his apparent disapproval. Her smile grew so wide it hurt her cheeks a bit. “We used to move in on Memorial Day and stay until Labor Day. But, now my twin brother is at football training camp in Texas. My parents don’t come as often these days. After all, we’re both grown and pretty much gone.”

Her memories flew over two decades worth of time spent in the kitchen, on the back deck, in the wet sand of the shore. Her smile turned genuine, thinking about the love contained in these walls. With the fluid balance of an Olympic volleyballer, she perched on the edge of the coffee table to don her silver sandals.

“You have a twin?” he asked.

“Yeah. My baby brother by a few minutes. He’s a senior this year. I took a year off for the games last year, so he managed to get ahead of me school-wise. What about you?”

“What about me what?” he prompted.

She grinned, realizing he still had his guard up. “Do you have brothers or sisters?”

“Nope,” Davis explained.

So that’s how it was going to be. Cora finished buckling her shoes and stood, realizing that the heels made her about four inches taller than the man standing in the middle of her living room. “Did you send out any preemptive posts about tonight?”

He retrieved the phone from his pocket and held it up. “I did. But, I have only a few hundred followers versus what’s probably your six figures.”

“Seven,” she corrected.

He paused, then with a skeptical scoff he clarified, “Millions?”

Cora nodded, keeping her features neutral. “Millions. Across all social media platforms, I average about two million followers on each.” She crossed over to the kitchen island and picked up her phone. “Ready to launch this campaign? Probably grow your following by at least a few hundred.”

He finally turned his entire body to face her. She still couldn’t read him very well. Was she reading too much into his expression? His body language? Was that look on his face excitement or reluctance? “Sure. You think one picture will do it?”

Despite her nerves, she accessed her camera and crossed over to him, bending her knees slightly as she stood next to him and held up the phone for their first selfie. “Let’s try. I have no idea if people will follow you because of me or not, but that’s the plan, isn’t it?”

Her bare shoulder brushed against his shirt. The angle wasn’t right, so she leaned further in. On the screen, she could see him look briefly at her before turning his face back to the phone and smiling a huge, surprised smile. “You do one now,” she prompted, tossing her straight black hair over her shoulder and changing the angle of her head so it would look like a different picture.

He held his phone up and turned to look at her, his expression ensuring that anyone looking at the picture would see his attraction for her. As soon as she could, she stepped away from him and accessed one of the social media platforms that she’d integrated with a couple other accounts and contemplated what to write, finally typing:

My date tonight, #TeamUSA hockey star Dauntless Davis Elliott! He’s a hottie in person, ladies. #goingforthegold

“Okay?” she asked, holding up her phone so he could read the caption. She noticed his cheeks turn slightly red before he nodded and held up his phone for her inspection.

Feel like I already scored the game-winning goal! My date is none other than #TeamUSA’s jewel, Jade. Just as beautiful in person.

She analyzed what he said. How much of his text was fake? Not much, assuming he really thought she looked beautiful. She nodded in approval. “Perfect.” She slipped her phone into her lavender beaded clutch and snapped it shut. “Ready?”

“Yep.” He followed her to the door and paused on the front step while she locked it. She could hear his phone buzzing.

“Are those notifications?”

He pulled his phone out of his pocket, and his eyes widened as he stared at the screen while the phone continued to vibrate in his hand. “Apparently.”

“You might want to go ahead and turn off notifications for now. It’s not going to stop buzzing for a while, I bet.” She laughed as he held the passenger’s door open for her. “I remember the day Ruby and I went viral. It was pretty crazy.”

He handed her his phone as he got into the driver’s seat. “I don’t even know how to do that. Do you mind?”

“Of course not.” She accessed his accounts and maneuvered through all the menus until she had all his notifications turned off. “This will be much more peaceful.”

“Thanks,” he said, sliding the phone back into his pocket. He didn’t speak for the rest of the drive. The silence didn’t feel comfortable, so a few miles down the street, she pulled her phone  out and read some of the comments. Most of them confirmed her assessment of his appearance. As they pulled into the parking lot of the beachside restaurant, she remarked, “The general consensus seems to be that you’re a hottie,” she said dryly.

She heard him snort, but he didn’t speak. Halfway up the sidewalk, though, he stopped in his tracks. “Wait. Did you just brand me? Is this something I’m going to have to deal with forever?”

Cora pursed her lips. “Maybe. Unintentionally. I can come up with something else and use it over and over again to drown out the hottie if you want. Use it as a hashtag. I just chose it because you’re a hockey player.” At his blank stare, she clarified. “Hottie. Hockey. You know, assonance. Kind of rhymes?”

“Oh. Of course. Assonance. It kind of rhymes.” His eyes widened slightly. “Oh, man. I can barely wait to hear what my teammates think of that.”

“What would you prefer?”

He shrugged. “No idea. Just know that ice isn’t hot, Miss Anderson.”

Miss Anderson, even. “How about ‘sensitive’? Would you prefer ‘sensitive’ to hottie?” He didn’t meet her gaze. “We have to flirt, Mr. Elliot. That’s what’s going to pay the bills.”

“Great,” he muttered. She watched him take a deep breath and force himself to visibly relax his shoulders. It was a gesture that reminded her of something her father might do. The second her mind made that connection it unnerved her a little bit. When he met her eyes, he had a tight-lipped smile on his face, and they continued up the sidewalk.

As they approached the building, he put a hand on the small of her back and the final remnants of his scowl transformed into a pleasant look. A sinking feeling in her stomach made her worry that she’d done the wrong thing. Some knee-jerk response inside her wanted to parry with the fact that he’d approved her caption before she sent it, but she held her tongue. That would only sound argumentative, and she wanted to smooth the waters, not stir them up further.

Within minutes, they took their seats at the window looking out on the water. A waiter appeared almost immediately, wearing a white shirt and black bow tie. She knew he would be a great waiter based on the fact that she hadn’t noticed him until he started filling their water glasses. She knew that their places would magically clear and they would not be interrupted with inane questions during their meal. “Good evening, Mr. Elliott and Miss. Anderson. What a pleasure to have you with us tonight. Can I start you with a drink before I tell you about tonight’s specials?”

***

For their entire dinner, Davis stayed relaxed, smiling, chatting, interacting. He discovered just a few minutes into dinner that if he didn’t think about what she said last week, he could have a good time. As long as he stayed relaxed and Cora stayed relaxed, they could smile and laugh together while they chatted about friends and family and school. He understood without being told that if he sat back and scowled at her, someone would snap a picture, and that would end this flirty facade before it even got started.

During his entire trip to Boston and the rental car drive to the Cape, he had dreaded tonight. As he checked into his beach house, he had mentally reviewed their initial meeting over and over again and realized that he didn’t trust her not to say something insulting about him or his “reputation” again. When the main course arrived, he noticed that she again prayed silently, without asking him to join her or bless the meal for both of them. What would she say if she knew how faithfully he served in his campus ministry and how much he enjoyed attending chapel services? Would it put a dent in this imagined bad-boy reputation she had contrived for him?

If Cora chose to think of him as some drunk who participated in barroom brawls, he could say nothing to convince her otherwise. Hopefully, eventually, she’d get to know him better, and she’d learn how wrong that opinion of hers was and drop her prejudice. He had enough time to think about it and realized that he also needed to get to know the real Cora Anderson and reset his expectations. To that end, he drew on the fruit of the Holy Spirit right now and garnered the whole patience, self-control, and kindness that he needed to wear like a mantle. Otherwise, he’d just find himself saying something intentionally hurtful that he wouldn’t have the power to take back.

When their dessert for two arrived—a chocolate cheesecake surrounded by a wreath made from a swirled strawberry and cream sauce, Cora clapped and cheered like a school girl. It brought him back into the moment just as she held her phone out to the waiter.

“Would you mind?”

They each picked up a spoon and took a bite, looking at the camera. Davis gave a thumb’s up sign. As soon as the waiter took their picture, Davis sat back and set the spoon down. “There’s no way I could eat that this close to training,” he announced, allowing a little bit of wistful regret color the tone of his voice.

Cora wiggled her eyebrows and took another bite. As she swallowed, she closed her eyes in pleasure. The thought of kissing those strawberry flavored lips raced through Davis’ mind before he could stop himself. He couldn’t imagine where that thought had come from.

When she opened her light green eyes, she smiled and said, “I refuse to be intimidated by the thought of training.”

Wanting to get his mind off his inappropriate thought, he said, “Tell me about the opening ceremonies. I remember watching you there.”

She set her spoon down and leaned back in her chair. “It was insanely amazing. You can actually feel the crowd inside of you, it’s so loud. Lights everywhere, cameras, athletes I recognized from previous Olympics. It was hard not to fan-girl on the gymnastics team. Oh, and the swimmers. You know.”

He’d known the entire meal that she had put on a pretense of relaxed happiness. For the first time since he met her, he watched her jade green eyes come to life as she remembered the opening ceremonies. While she talked, her body became very animated, and the way she described the event made him feel like he experienced it with her. He remembered seeing her, remembered watching all the athletes as they entered the huge arena for the ceremonies. The fact that in less than a year he might experience the same thing felt surreal.

Using the card given to him by VelTech’s marketing company, Davis paid the bill for their meal, and they left the restaurant. On the sidewalk, he looked out at the water and said, “I think a picture from the beach would be a really good idea.”

“Good thinking!” Cora replied. Instead of turning toward the parking lot they headed toward the water. Cora stopped at the edge of the sidewalk and used Davis’ arm as support while she slipped her heels off.

The evening had started to cool. Davis looked at her with her bare arms and bare legs. “I’m used to the cold. You going to be okay without a jacket?”

“I’ll be fine.” She smiled.

They slowly walked in the sand toward the water. In the relatively early evening, several people milled around, some dressed for the restaurant, others dressed more casually for the beach. When they passed a waiter taking a break at one of the outdoor tables, Cora stopped. “Excuse me, would you mind taking our picture?”

She handed him her phone, and his eyes widened. “Is this the new one? I didn’t think they were out yet. I’m on the waiting list! Look at the size of that screen. It’s like a tablet!” he exclaimed.

She smiled and said, “That’s it. We’re beta testing it. What do you think?”

“Really nice! So light? How long does the battery go?”

Davis interjected, “Haven’t charged mine in two days.”

“No kidding?” The waiter got down to business to take the picture.

Cora stood close to Davis, and he automatically put his arm around her waist. Even in the evening air, he could smell her perfume and he pulled her a little closer to his side. They smiled, and the waiter snapped the picture and reluctantly handed the phone back to Cora.

“Thank you so much.” She grinned.

“Sure thing, Jade. Uh, can I get one with you guys?”

Her smile grew very wide. “Of course! Hop in here.”

The waiter jumped in the middle of them like a tuxedoed photo bomber, made a V sign, and snapped three selfies. “Thanks so much. You were awesome in Rio.”

“Thank you! Good night.”

As they walked away, Cora tapped on the screen of her phone then put it back in her purse. Immediately, Davis felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. “I just texted ours to you. That way we can both post it.”

Thinking of the maître d’ and the waiter just now, he asked, “Do you ever get tired of being recognized?”

Cora pulled her long black hair over one shoulder. “Sometimes. Most of the time, though, I’m not. But, you know, this is home. So, if I’m going to be recognized, it’s going to be here. Usually, people just look at me like they feel like they know me but can’t place me. Anyway, this is just a season. In ten years, I’ll be a footnote in the history books.”

For some reason, he didn’t want to leave the beach. “I know the picture was what we came for, but do you want to walk a little bit? It’s really nice here.”

She turned her head and looked at him, and he noticed the hesitation in her eyes before she agreed and said, “Sure.”

They started walking down the sandy path with grass-covered dunes on either side of them. When his foot sank into the soft sand, and some of the grains worked their way into his shoe, he stopped and said, “Hang on just a sec.”

He kicked his shoes off then reached down and slipped his socks off. After he dumped the sand out of his shoe and shook out his socks, he set them near one of the wooden posts that ran along the path. The sand felt warm beneath his bare feet, and for a moment he wiggled his toes, enjoying the sensation. He turned to Cora and smiled. “Ready.”

They walked a little further down the path and over a crest. Suddenly, bright blue water greeted them. “Beautiful,” he remarked, looking up at the sky that had just started to turn orange and purple as the sun began to slip down the horizon. He watched a sailboat silhouetted against the evening sky glide by several hundred yards away.

They walked in silence for several minutes. When a wave washed away, Davis stepped into the cool, wet sand and bent and picked up a stone, running his thumb over the heart-shaped surface smoothed by sand and water. The colors in the rock matched Cora’s purple dress. He slipped the stone into his pocket.

“Where are you from?” Cora asked, breaking the silence.

The question surprised him. Through all the casual dinner conversation, she hadn’t asked a single personal question of him. He gave his standard reply, “The Army.”

She looked over at him. “What does that mean? You’re not a soldier.” The breeze blew a strand of hair over her eyes, and his fingers itched to brush it back. “Are you?”

With a wry smile, he explained, “My father is a soldier. I was born in Seoul, Korea, to a Korean military policeman’s daughter and an American Special Forces soldier from Michigan. From there, we lived in Washington, Texas, Georgia, New York, Germany, and then North Carolina, where I graduated high school.”

She stopped walking and stared at him. He stopped, too, and turned to face her. “That’s insane. Until school in Virginia, I lived in the same house in Boston my entire life. I can’t even imagine.”

He thought of the years of moving, of the repetition of settling into a new home, settling into a new friend group, and just as things got normal, gearing up for the next move. He loved it, even as a kid. Nothing beat walking into a new school and getting an opportunity to reinvent himself, make new friends, and gain new experiences and new opportunities. “I can’t imagine being confined to one area my whole life. I loved moving. I’m twenty-two, and I’ve lived in three countries and speak two languages.” His lips thinned. “I don’t think it’s insane at all. Of course, I have no basis for comparison. It was my normal.”

Her face fell, and he could tell that she hadn’t meant to insult him with her words. But, because of her callous rudeness when they first met, he had very little grace to spare her right now. He turned back toward the restaurant and gestured with his arm for her to precede him back to the car. Clearly, she didn’t need him to tell her he had reached his tolerance level for the evening’s charade.

They slowly and calmly walked back up to the restaurant. Davis collected his shoes and socks and carried them until he stepped out of the sand and onto the sidewalk. He sat on a bench and put them back on. Cora sat next to him and fastened her sandals. Without speaking, they walked back to the car. Davis reached for the car handle to open the door for her, but Cora reached it first and let herself into the car. He felt the muscles in his neck tense.

Refusing to get angry, refusing to spoil the first successful date, Davis took deep breaths through his nose as he stalked around to the driver’s door. When he slipped in and started the car, he looked over at her and smiled. “Where do you go to church here?”

She’d had her head turned, looking out the window, but slowly turned to look at him with wide eyes. “Church?”

Keeping his voice very even, he said, “Yes. Church. Chapel. Tabernacle. House of worship. The place you congregate to feed your soul and worship the Creator of the universe. Where do you go when you’re here at the Cape?”

“I, uh,” she cleared her throat and continued, “there’s a big church here that I go to when I wake up too late to drive home. I prefer my church in Boston and lunch with my family after. But sometimes, I go to the big church here.”

He drove out of the parking lot and turned onto the main highway. “Okay. I’ll rephrase my question then. If I wanted to go to church with you tomorrow, what time would I need to be where?”

“Oh.” She stared at him for a moment before replying, “If you want to pick me up, we’ll need to leave my cottage by nine-thirty. Otherwise, meet me there at nine-fifty.”

Considering his options, mulling over the details, he finally said, “Okay. See you at nine-thirty.”

Several silent minutes later, as he turned onto her street, she finally broke the heavy silence. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why do you want to go to church tomorrow?”

He pulled into her driveway and put the car in park so he could turn his body in her direction. “Because, Miss Anderson, I am a churchgoing Christian. Despite gossip,” he said, stressing that word, making it sound like it tasted bitter even to say it, “I’m not some barroom brawler. If you want to know what happened that night, maybe ask me. But do me a favor and throw all your judgment out the window beforehand, or the conversation won’t be a pleasant one.”

Leaving the car running, he got out and was at her door before she could open it. As she slipped out of the car, he shut the door behind her and said, “I had a really nice time during our meal. Tell you what. Why not let me open your doors from now on? Pull out your chairs. Take your coat. You know. Pretend I’m actually a gentleman. Never know who’s watching, right?”

She watched him stalk back to the driver’s side. Before he closed the door, he said, “See you tomorrow. Nine-thirty.”

He got back in the car and waited for her to go safely inside her house before driving away.

***