Beyond the Point(54)
On the cruise they’d all taken through the Mediterranean that summer, Dani was convinced their relationship would finally cross into new territory. Tim and Hannah couldn’t keep their hands off of each other. Avery was constantly flirting with the waitstaff, in particular a Syrian bartender named Ludo. Meanwhile, Dani and Locke continued their practiced dance, constantly stepping closer and stepping back. Days upon days of spreading suntan lotion over each other’s bodies had driven Dani nearly mad. And just when she thought that it was all in her head, the ship had docked in Florence and Locke had disappeared with his football buddies for a few hours, only to reappear holding a brown package wrapped in twine.
“Open it,” he’d said, with his signature gap-toothed grin.
Unwrapping the package, Dani found a saddle-colored leather jacket, supple and worn, just her size. She’d taken one look at the price tag and told him there was no way she could accept it, but he’d ignored her protests and placed it around her shoulders.
“Your new uniform,” he’d said. “Trust me. It’s perfect.”
That night, he’d found his way to her room, into her bed, next to her body. They’d interlocked fingers and fallen asleep. That was it. Four years. One leather jacket. And then, nothing.
“Not even a kiss?” Avery had asked at breakfast the next day.
Dani shook her head. “Nada.”
“Do you think he’s gay?” she’d whispered.
Dani had rolled her eyes in response, as if that were the dumbest question she’d ever heard—though the possibility had crossed her mind, too. In the years since she’d arrived at West Point, her little brother, Dominic, had come out of the closet—and Locke knew that she’d supported him. If Locke was gay, she was certain he would have told her by now. As it was, Avery couldn’t understand how two people could not fornicate when left alone.
“He’s not gay,” Dani had answered finally.
Her friend raised an eyebrow and took a bite of eggs. It was unspoken but understood that Avery should drop the subject, and she did. Over the years, Dani and Locke had had plenty of deep conversations—much deeper than the conversations Avery had probably had with her latest fling. Dani still held out hope that Locke would eventually realize the truth: they were best friends. And what else did you need in a soul mate than for them to be your best friend?
Standing to the side of the ballroom, she pulled a brand-new Motorola cell phone out of her purse and flipped it open. Her fingers flew fast across the Razr’s thin keypad, toggling through each number to get to the right letters. Phones needed to be equipped with keyboards, she thought. It would save so much time.
Made it to NYC, she wrote in a text to Locke. I’m the best dressed in this place. San Lorenzo 4 tha win!
Atta girl, he sent back in a flash. Tell New York hello for me. Just don’t go getting lost with the FDNY this time, K?
Dani chuckled, then replied: No promises.
PULLING A MAP from her neon sack, Dani quickly decoded the madness around her. E & G, the company she’d come to meet, was tucked between FedEx and a cable company on the opposite side of the ballroom. Google had a table on the far north side, Microsoft had set up to the south, and a host of Fortune 500 companies floated in between. There weren’t any creative companies here, Dani noted. No television studios or music labels. As if America’s veterans didn’t have stories to tell. Shaking off that thought, she stepped into the maze, walking between booths like she was avoiding dirty carnies.
“Good morning!” chirped a woman with slightly bouffant hair. “Enter our raffle for a Bluetooth?” She pointed to a roachlike clip on her ear. “They’re the next big thing.”
Dani respectfully declined, turned a corner, and spotted a booth filled with two leather couches facing one another on a Persian rug. All the other booths looked sterile and boring, but the scene ahead looked like it had been ripped from one of Hannah’s home decor magazines. An older man sat on the left couch, one leg crossed over the other. He wore round tortoiseshell glasses and a black half-zip sweater. A blue collar peeked out from beneath the sweater and his salt-and-pepper hair was trimmed close on the sides—handsome, Dani thought. Lean, like he woke up every morning to run. Like a West Pointer. Dani wasn’t one to bet. But she would have put her life savings on the fact that this was the man she was supposed to meet. This was Jim Webb.
Suddenly, he stood from the couch and smiled in her direction. Dani limped forward and her heart began to pound.
“Now, I’ll be damned if you’re not Dani McNalley,” he said. He had a Southern accent and a warm handshake, broken only by the cold platinum mass of his West Point class ring.
“Damnation avoided, sir,” Dani said.
Jim Webb laughed out loud.
“Here, Dani,” Jim said, “there’s someone I want you to meet. Laura Klein, this is the kid I was telling you about. Dani McNalley.”
Suddenly, a woman with short blond hair and a tight black dress appeared in front of her, fingering a pearl necklace and smiling, like she’d just been told some hilarious joke. Wrinkles fanned out from the sides of her eyes like spiderwebs. Red polish shined brightly on her fingernails.
“Oh, you’re Dani,” Laura said with an air of laughter. Her words were elevated by an aristocratic British accent. “I was expecting a man! You know. D-a-n-n-y,” she spelled. “No offense, but you don’t exactly look like you went to West Point.”