I Married a Master(62)
Author: Melanie Marchande

In the end, he managed to control himself, and we staked out little outpost at the beach without incident. He wanted to go into the water, but I was content to stay by the sidelines and watch him. This turned out to be a pretty good choice. The only thing better than Benjamin Chase in low-slung swimming trunks was Benjamin Chase in low-slung swimming trunks, and soaking wet.

After a while, he returned, glancing around him like he was suspicious of something.

"I feel like someone’s watching me," he said. "As as much as I’d like to blame it on my rockin’ bod, I think it’s very possible I’m actually being watched for some other purpose."

"Typical," I muttered, smiling at him. "Everything’s gotta be about you, doesn’t it?"

I was just teasing, but it seemed to rattle something inside him. He glanced at me, stretching out on his towel. "You always act like you know rich people so well," he said. "What, did you major in Poli Sci?"

"I grew up in a resort town," I told him. "Working. Cleaning houses. Me and my parents. So I’ve known plenty of people like you before."

He smiled a little. "All of our dirty little secrets. Did you ever try to blackmail anyone?"

I couldn’t help but laugh. "It was tempting, but no. Nothing really all that juicy. Just a lot of random mess, and a lot of pill bottles. All par for the course."

Nodding, he stretched out further, resting his head on the towel. "We used to visit one of those every summer. It was nice. I remember I always annoyed my parents by asking who lived in our house when we were gone."

I snorted. It was funny to imagine little Ben Chase, being just as clueless about things as I was. Not understanding the meaning of money. The influence he automatically held over everyone like me.

"I always wondered what it would be like," I said. "We always had to take our vacations in the off-season, of course. Nothing fancy. Usually we’d go camping. About as far as you can get from a luxurious seaside getaway. But I liked it, because it was different."

Ben nodded. "Not as many boys, though, I imagine."

Grinning at him, I rolled over on my side. "Believe it or not, that wasn’t really my primary concern when it came to picking vacation spots."

"You’re telling me you never fell in love? Not even for one summer?" Ben shook his head. "That’s the saddest story I’ve ever heard, Ms. Hadley."

In spite of the sun, I could feel my skin tighten with goosebumps. I liked it when he called me that, and I had no inclination to figure out why. "No," I said, simply, trying to ignore the rush of feelings twisting in my stomach. "You really think I would’ve been allowed to fool around with billionaire’s kids?"

"What? Your parents didn’t approve?" He looked confused.

"Their parents," I corrected him. Shit, was he really that clueless? "I guess they really didn’t want their sons spending time with the cleaning lady’s daughter. I can’t imagine why."

Rolling my eyes, I flopped down on my back. It was impossible to have a normal conversation with this guy. Our experiences were just too different, despite the odd little ways in which they seemed to cross over.

"Mine wouldn’t care," he said, simply. "I’m surprised anyone did. That kind of thing went out of fashion a couple decades ago. Actually, I’m pretty sure my mother had some romantic fantasy that I’d end up with a girl who was below my station. Too much Jane Austen, I think."

Curiosity tickled at the back of my mind. "Well, did you?" I hadn’t really asked him any questions about Daria. He didn’t seem to like thinking about her, let alone talking about her – but I found myself wondering about the history.

"Not really," he said, shortly. "Well – I think it’s a shame you never mingled with the tourist kids. They might’ve learned something from you."

"I didn’t say I never mingled." Memories were coming back, still surprisingly vivid and strong, after all these years. "I did. For a while. But I learned better, pretty quickly."

Almost twenty years, and there was still a hole in my chest. It ached and burned just as badly as it had back then, when I was still so young I didn’t understand the difference. I didn’t know why some kids were only around during the summer, and why they went away. When we were all playing in the sand, we seemed the same.

Back then, there was a boy. He was older, by a mile, it seemed, back then – but in reality it was probably just a few years. I was of the age where a few years makes all the difference.

"Young love," Ben teased me, gently, bringing me back to the present. "I knew it. Why lie about a thing like that?"

"Gross." My fingers were digging absently into the sand, unearthing a little twig to pick and twist between my fingers. "I was like, six years old or something. It wasn’t like that. I just…you know, I thought we were going to be friends. But his parents put a stop to it."

"Maybe they just didn’t like their creepy kid hanging around with a six-year-old." He was grinning, propping himself up on his elbow to take a swig from his beer. "Probably did you a favor."

"He couldn’t have been much older than eight," I protested. "There was literally no reason to keep us apart, except…"

Ben laid back down, this time, his shoulder a little closer to mine. At first I thought I might be imagining it, but I was certain. I could feel his closeness, even through the baking heat of the sun.

"Did he tell you? Maybe his friends were just making fun of him for having cooties, and he used his parents as excuse." Ben tilted his head back, stretching slightly. "Kids do that. They’re surprisingly conniving."

"No." I wanted to stop talking about it, to stop remembering, but at the same time, it almost felt…good. Like picking off a scab that had been left for too long. "My parents told me. Said his dad came and talked to them. I kind of felt guilty, even though I didn’t know I was doing anything wrong."

"And you never heard anything from him?"

"Nope. He acted like I’d never existed. Probably forgot about me immediately." I sighed, trying to conceal how much the whole thing still affected me. "I stayed inside for a while, and just avoided everybody as much as I could. I didn’t want anyone to get in trouble. Before long, he was gone, and that solved that problem. The next year, I’d figured out how to mingle without being one of them. I just started reading a lot of books, staying away from all their games. I don’t think I ever saw him again, but he’d probably changed so much I couldn’t recognize him."