I’d avoid marriage also.”
“Why have you?” he asked.
“I…I…I haven’t met the right person,” she said, shifting her gaze to the guests.
“Tell me,” he said, “do these people look bitter to you?” They might be bitter, but he thought they put up a pretty good front.
People were laughing, men were tossing a beach ball back and forth across the pool, a few women were dangling their legs in the shallow end of the pool, while others were tossing down exotic drinks, and some couples were even nuzzling on colorful chaise lounges.
“I guess not. They actually look pretty happy. I’m sure that’s thanks to you. You got them out of a bad situation into something better.”
“That’s how I look at it, otherwise…”
She looked at him as if waiting expectantly for him to finish his sentence. As if she really wanted to know. Otherwise, what would he do? He was a divorce lawyer, one of the best. He was in demand. And he would be as long as he did his job and got his clients large settlements. What would he do if he didn’t think he’d improved his clients’ situation? He met her gaze, looked into her clear blue eyes and answered her as firmly as he could. “Otherwise I wouldn’t be able to sleep at night,” he said.
She looked away and a tiny frown line appeared between her fine eyebrows. When he mentioned sleep, did it trigger some memory of last night? Did she wonder if she’d had an episode? Did she remember anything?
“Well,” she said, brushing her hands together as if to dismiss any worries, either his or hers. “Don’t let me keep you from your schmoozing.”
When she said that, he realized he’d been talking to her exclusively for a long time and hadn’t noticed what was going on behind him at the party. Not that anyone else had missed him. Just a glance told him that his guests were milling and mixing and generally amusing themselves. They didn’t even miss him.
“I’d better get back to the guests. Come on, let me introduce you…”
“I can introduce myself.”
He shot her a quick look. “Okay.” But he thought it wasn’t likely she’d go up to strangers. More likely she’d stand around and sneak back to her house when he wasn’t looking.
Before he could make the rounds, his cell phone rang and he went inside to give directions to someone who couldn’t find the house. He stood by the open French doors looking out at the party scene, his eyes glued to Sarah. She was standing at the edge of the pool, talking to an old college buddy of his whose divorce had been finalized last month.
He had to say, in her dress and pale skin, she stood out like an English rose in the middle of a tropical garden. Of all the women there, she was refreshingly different. Frisbees sailed through the air, couples danced on the patio to the live music and a beach ball bounced off the diving board and into the deep end.
Suddenly there was a scream and a splash and he went running out to the pool. There was Sarah flailing about in the deep end, her head sinking under the water, her hair trailing behind her.
“Call 911,” he yelled. Then Max jumped into the water to save her.
Chapter Three
They say your whole life passes in front of you when you think you’re going to die, but all Sarah could think of as the water closed over her head and she began sinking to the bottom of the pool, was that she should have worn nicer underwear, instead of those white cotton granny underpants and sports bra. Which was stupid, because the coroner wasn’t going to notice, but the man next door might.
And then she thought of her parents, who’d say, What were you doing even close to a swimming pool! You know what could happen.
Then everything went black.
The next thing she knew she was lifted out of the water and propped up on cool blue tiles. She gasped for breath, coughing and spitting out water. She reached for her inhalator, but it wasn’t there. She’d left it at home. Max was leaning towards her, his face blurred, his eyebrows drawn together.
People were shouting.
“What happened?”
“Who is she?”
“Where are the paramedics?”
“Is she alive?”
“Does anyone know CPR?”
“Give her mouth-to-mouth.”
Her heart pounded. Until she realized it wasn’t an asthma attack. Even though she was choking and scared, she had enough presence of mind to know she didn’t need an inhalator and resuscitation wasn’t necessary. All she needed was a few minutes to expel the water out of her lungs and she’d be fine. She was proud of herself. She didn’t panic.
Someone patted her on the back and she coughed water into Max’s face. He didn’t flinch. Blurry-eyed, she looked around at a dozen faces staring down at her, who were all looking scared, and some downright terrified. She wished she could reassure them, but she couldn’t speak. Even more she wanted to sink down into oblivion. She wished she’d never come to this party. She hated being the center of attention. Memories of schoolmates staring at her during an asthma attack, of being sent to the school nurse came flooding back. She was conscious of her dress plastered to her body, her hair hanging in wet strands. The humiliation was almost worse than drowning.
“What happened?” she gasped.
“You got knocked into the pool,” a man’s voice came from somewhere behind her. “Sorry about that. I didn’t see you standing there when I jumped in. How are you?”
She nodded. “I’m fine. I think I’ll just…” Just nothing. She tried to get up, but couldn’t, so she put her head between her knees and her eyes filled with tears. Tears of relief, and of mortification. She couldn’t move or speak. She wished everyone would go away and let her recover on her own.
It was Max who pulled her up by her arms and lifted her to her wobbly feet. “I’ll take her home. She lives next door. Send the paramedics over there.”
“I really don’t need…” She really didn’t need anything, no paramedics, no mouth-to-mouth, just a few minutes to pull herself together. God, she hated it when people made a fuss over her. She wanted to seem cool, calm and collected but a long series of racking coughs spoiled the effect.
Max carried her home, her face pressed against his chest, her legs dangling over his arm. She wanted to tell him she could walk, but she couldn’t seem to get the words out. She tried to wriggle out of his grasp, but she didn’t have the strength, so she just let herself go limp. He felt so big and so strong and she felt so small and ridiculously safe in his arms. For a person who prided herself on her hard-won independence, it was a troubling moment laced with conflicting emotions.
Being taken care of was better than she cared to admit. On the other hand, she hated having to depend on anyone. To her surprise, without her instructions, he walked into the kitchen and up the stairs of her aunt’s house, as if he knew exactly where the bedroom was. Just inside the door, he tried to unbutton her
