Chapter 6: Risk Assessment
Raf & Shane
She expected him to call, or at least text. What she didn’t appreciate was him showing up at the beach house like John Cusack with his boom box, blasting Peter Gabriel. Shane, it turned out, didn’t give up quite so easily.
“What do you think you’re doing?” she asks, stepping onto the deck, through the sliding glass doors. “My kids are home. You have one minute.”
Shane had waited long enough. It’s been almost forty-eight hours since Wendy barged in, Raf barged out, and Wendy cursed him out. Two full days of silence. Neither woman has picked up the phone since.
He looks Raf straight in the eye. “I need to set the record straight. I was never ‘seeing’ Wendy.”
“That’s right, Shane. You weren’t seeing her. You were fucking her.”
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
“I’m sorry if that’s what it looked like.”
“If?” She gives him a once-over, brow raised, not buying it, and not interested in the pitch.
“I’m not worried about Wendy,” he continues, straining not to beg. “I’m focused on you. I’m a little confused, though. Even if there was more between Wendy and me, so what? Because from where I stand, I was just a client, wasn’t I?”
“Clients pay, Shane.”
He knew accepting free work would bite him in the ass. He just hadn’t expected it so soon. “Fine,” he fires back. “I’ll pay you double. Send me an invoice.”
“You don’t get it.” Raf gestures in the air, frustrated. “I don’t have the time for this. For petty fighting and bullshit. I’ve got bigger things going on.”
“What do I have to say to make it clear? I have nothing with Wendy. I’m interested in you, Raf.”
“She ripped down your walls, Shane. Sure seems like something to me.”
She turns for the door.
“Don’t walk away,” he says, and suddenly, it’s not just about this moment.
Raf glances back, red waves lifted by the breeze. “For what it’s worth, I was interested in you, too.”
“So let’s try this out. Now that we’re both being honest.”
She slides open the door, then pauses. One last glance. Shane, framed by ocean and sky. For a moment, he thinks she’ll step toward him. But she doesn’t.
“I’ll mail you that invoice,” she says. “Goodbye, Shane.”
Then, she steps inside. Turns away. And pulls the door shut behind her.