Pretty Falling Pieces by Isabelle Culpo

Chapter Seven

Friday afternoon doesn’t roll around soon enough.

I’ve only been back to my regular job for a week, and already I feel in desperate need of a holiday. While my physical stamina improved in Africa, it definitely decreased my capacity to sit at a desk and work all day. Next week I have a few more meetings scheduled, so I’m hoping that will help get me back into the swing of things.

Since Jess will be here any minute, I decide to lock up and take my bags and the supplies I bought for this weekend down to the foyer. In one of them, there’s a delicious assortment of Jess and mine’s favourite snacks I picked up this morning.

I spot her car waiting out front. She rolls down the window. “Just chuck your stuff in the boot now. I don’t wanna pay for parking.”

I give her a thumbs up and head to the back of her MINI Cooper.

When I open the boot, a loose Nike sneaker falls out.

Has she packed for two nights or two weeks?

I rearrange her bags so mine can squeeze in then jump in the front seat.

“Thanks for picking me up,” I say while strapping myself into the seatbelt. “I’m really glad that you talked me into it.”

“You’re most welcome. Now put on some music so we can get ourselves pumped up for the weekend,” she says, tapping the steering wheel to an invisible beat.

* * *

Our enthusiasm for the weekend has dwindled by the time we cross the Harbour Bridge. It’s already five and all of our music-induced energy has dissipated as we crawl along the motorway.

4 p.m. was not early enough to beat the traffic.

Usually, the journey should only take an hour and a half but given Monday is a public holiday, it seems everyone else has had the same idea and decided to get out of the city.

“Fucking hell.” Jess sighs. “I knew we should have left earlier. It’s going to take forever to get there.”

Jess is highly susceptible to road rage, so I know I need to be a distraction for her to survive the next hour of gridlock we’ll be stuck in.

“So, how was work today? Did you get up to anything exciting?” Jess usually has hilarious work stories, and whenever she retells them, we always end up in fits of laughter.

“Not really, my boss was a total bitch today.”

Okay, not the lighthearted diversion I thought it would be.

I change tactics and ask her about something I know for sure will lift her mood. “How are you and Trent doing? He seems really great by the way.”

Much better than some of the losers she’s dated in the past, I don’t add.

“He’s amazing. I honestly think this time is different, Imogen, I’ve never felt happier. Aside from you, he’s the only person I never could get sick of. I’m telling you if that man gets down on one knee I’d say yes in a heartbeat.”

I’m pleased to hear she too notices a difference in Trent. They seem to complement each other well.

Before I get a chance to react to that statement, Jess’s phone rings.

“Speak of the devil.” She answers the call hands-free and Trent’s voice comes over the car’s speakers.

“Hey babe, how far away are you?” His reception is choppy, and it sounds like he’s driving as well.

“We’re at least another hour away, what about you guys?”

What did she just say? I thought this was supposed to be a girls-only weekend, just the two of us.

“We’re almost there, so we’ll probably head out for a drink since you’ve got the keys.”

Jess mutters under her breath, “Typical.”

“Alright, we’ll see you soon.” Then she hangs up and turns up the music. Probably in an attempt to distract me.

I turn to her in my seat. “Jessica, who else is going to be there?”

“Don’t be mad at me, but… Trent and Theo are going to be there too. They were planning to go to Theo’s place on the Coromandel and surf, but since we were both heading to the beach, it made sense we’d all go together. Please don’t be mad.” Her puppy dog eyes are in full-effect.

“Jess, of course I’m not mad, you can invite whoever you want.”

Her voice takes on a softer tone. “You can’t hide from people forever. No matter how much I know you want to.”

I’m not sure what to say to that, so I stay silent.

“Trent said Theo seemed really keen to come by the way. Especially when he found out you’d be there too.”

I know what she’s fishing for and I’m not taking the bait. “So your boss seems like a real piece of work…”

She throws her head back in laughter. “Alright, I’ll let you off this time.”

* * *

The moon is our only source of light when we arrive. As Jess fumbles with the locks, I take a moment to appreciate the fresh ocean air. It’s too dark to see the water, but I can hear the waves crashing against the shore.

After what feels like 20 minutes, Jess calls out, “Bingo,” and lets us in.

Her parents decided to decorate the place in a “Hamptons” style. Everything’s either cream, royal blue, or exposed bleached wood. It’s quaint yet picturesque. The sort of aesthetic people would save under Holiday Home on their Pinterest board.

She starts lugging her suitcases to the master, and I take the bedroom to the left of the house. It’s always been my favourite room as there’s a beautiful view of the water, but your privacy isn’t compromised as it’s facing away from the rest of the house.

I join Jess in the kitchen, and we unpack the groceries together then decide to get changed into our pyjamas and have a glass of wine and some dark chocolate on the deck. And that’s precisely how Trent and Theo find us when they arrive home 45 minutes later.

Trent immediately goes to Jess, standing behind her chair and bending down to kiss her on the lips. “I’m gonna grab us a couple of beers, do you guys need a refill?”

Jess jumps up and grabs her glass and the empty wine bottle. “I’ll give you a hand,” she replies, leaving Theo and I alone on the deck.

He comes and sits down beside me. “Cute pyjamas,” a teasing smile on his face.

I look down at the pink flannel set I’m wearing, which are covered in different coloured cupcakes. In hindsight, it’s something no one above the age of ten should probably own.

“Ah…Thanks.” I grab my glass and take a sip, trying to distract from the awkward tension between us.

“How’s your arm doing?”

“It’s fine.” Thankfully my pyjama sleeves are covering the angry red welt.

“Can I see?” he holds his hand out and waits for me to rest my arm in it.

Reluctantly, I roll up my sleeve. “It looks way worse than it feels.”

He holds my arm, gently inspecting the wound.

“You’ll have a scar.”

He surprises me by tracing his thumb back and forth on my arm, similar to the first night we met, and I shiver in response.

“Are you cold?” he asks, shrugging off his jacket.

I shake my head and Jess and Trent choose that moment to join us on the deck again. Trent’s holding four bottles of Corona and Jess has a new bottle of Sauvignon Blanc.

It’s going to be a long night.

* * *

Even with only four hours of sleep, I still woke up early the next morning. Knowing I wouldn’t be able to drift off again, I get up and go for a walk along the beach. The house is quiet, so I know I’m the first one up.

Not that that surprises me though.

Judging by the amount Jess and Trent drank last night, they’ll be dead to the wind till noon.

I grab my trainers and throw on some leggings and a long sleeve t-shirt following the path over the dunes. As soon as I feel the soft white sand underneath my shoes, my body instantly relaxes. Something to do with the number of negative ions in the atmosphere at the beach.

My lungs inhale the clean, fresh air while I enjoy the expansive ocean views.

At university, my lecturer once told me that one day the world will go to war over water. Not oil or land or weapons. Just clean, drinkable water. It’s hard to imagine how one day it will become a scarce resource when there seems to be such abundance around us, especially in New Zealand.

It’s something I’d always taken for granted before going to Africa.

Lost in my thoughts, I don’t realise I’m no longer alone on the beach.

There’s a guy running towards me in the distance.

At first, he’s too far away to be anything other than a vague figure, but as he gets closer, I recognise who it is. There’s a couple hundred metres between us now, and I debate turning around so we don’t awkwardly bump into each other, but it’s probably too late. I’m sure he’s seen me too.

The closer he gets, the faster I feel my heart beating. By the time we’re within a couple of metres of each other I’m worried it might fail.

“Hey Imogen,” Theo says, less out of breath than me even though he’s the one that’s been running.

I quickly cast my eyes down his bare chest.

It’s impossible not to.

How do you get a body like that sitting at a desk all day?

“Morning, Theo. You couldn’t sleep in either?” I ask.

He rests his hands on his hips. “Yeah, I’m an early riser. If I’d known you were awake though, I would’ve joined you on your walk.”

“Oh…okay, I’m heading back now anyway, and I don’t want to interrupt your run.”

And it’s kind of hard to stay talking to you without your shirt on.

I’m at least a foot shorter than Theo, making me eye level with his tanned, ripped chest.

God really took his time building this one.

“I just finished; I’ll head back with you.” He playfully nudges my shoulder, pushing me back towards the house. “You don’t mind, do you?”

“Of course not.” I’m offended he would even need to ask.

Maybe because I’m not reading the signs like the girls he’s used to. Having never spoken to boys as a teenager—and adult—sometimes leaves me feeling a little below par.

I know I can come off a bit shy or standoff-ish, and while I’ve always used how other people treat me as a justification for that, I realise that shouldn’t apply to Theo.

He’s been nothing but kind to me since the day we met and given our best friends are in a relationship, I ought to be a little more receptive to him.

Beads of sweat break out on my forehead as we walk back together.

“How are your designs coming along?” Theo asks.

“Really good. I’ll be able to show you what I’ve come up with on Tuesday. It’s only concepts at this stage but you’ll be able to get a rough sense of the colour palettes and materials I plan to use.”

While Theo definitely doesn’t appear to be a micromanager, he wouldn’t be so successful if he lacked the taste for quality design, so I really hope they meet his expectations.

“I’m looking forward to seeing them. As Ange mentioned, I don’t usually work directly with the designers, that’s something she takes care of, but this development is important for many reasons, so I want to be involved in every detail from the ground up.”

“How long has Angela been working for you? You must trust her to look after that side of the business without your involvement.”

He doesn’t answer straight away so I look up, surprised to see a smile across his face.

Maybe they are an item?

“Only for a few years. Ange is my employee and while she’s great at what she does, sometimes she likes to give the impression we’re more than that. So yes, I do trust her but only in a professional capacity. She wouldn’t be working for me if I didn’t.”

Why am I breathing a sigh of relief at his answer?

Yes, she was curt with me when we first met, but I know I shouldn’t have taken that personally. She’s clearly got it bad for her boss and from the sounds of things, it’s unrequited. If I had to guess, I’d say Angela might be in love with him.

“Maybe from your side, but something tells me your relationship goes beyond that for her,” the words spill out of my mouth, and I instantly wish I could swallow them back up.

It’s so unlike me to speak without thinking like that, and my cheeks burn with embarrassment.

“Doesn’t matter,” he says softly. “I have my eye on someone else.”

Whoever it is, I hope they realise how lucky they are.