Excerpt: Three Fishes

I tried to sleep, and a few times I dozed off, but each time the cold woke me again. I could hear Jason's even breathing. Of course he was used to sleeping outdoors, right? That was his job. He was a professional. He slept in the dirt for fun and profit.

Only I had thought he gutted fish for a living. If he was the Jason Brandt, owner and CEO of Brandt Enterprises, what on earth was he doing working at a trout farm every Saturday?

I was tempted to wake him up to ask him. Just to be annoying. Since he expected me to be annoying anyway I might as well take advantage of it.

But I didn't. I was nice.

“Morrie,” he grunted, making me jump. I guess he wasn't asleep after all.

“What?”

“Come here.”

I didn't move or say anything. What did he mean by that? Here where?

He scooted over slightly, slid his arm under my shoulders and scooped me up against his side. He unzipped his jacket and maneuvered me into the inside of it. It didn't quite fit around me, he wasn't that big, but it covered my back and I could feel the warmth radiating through his shirt. I desperately wanted to wrap my top arm around his waist and maybe find some haven for my damp, numb fingers in some particularly warm recesses under his jacket.

“What are you doing?” I whispered.

“I can't sleep with you over there shivering like that.” He tightened his embrace. “Go to sleep.”

I went to sleep.

And in my drowsiness upon awaking, I cannot possibly be blamed for forgetting my whereabouts and letting my hands wander in caresses that I wouldn't normally bestow on a complete stranger.

“Whoa, whoa,” said Jason, picking my hand up from somewhere in the vicinity of his back pocket and returning it to me.

I woke all the way up. “Sorry,” I muttered. “I thought you were Alec.”

“Nice for Alec,” said Jason, getting up. He walked off into the trees.

I could see the trees. It was morning.

I sat up and looked myself over. I was disgusting. I'd never been so dirty in my life. The tarp was barely distinguishable from the ground, it was so covered with mud. The pine branches were dripping, no longer from rain, but now from a dense fog. I couldn't see where Jason had gone.

He was only gone for a few minutes, but I started getting nervous. I coughed a few times, loud enough that I hoped he could hear, just in case he was having trouble finding his way back. I didn't want to look like a wuss by yelling for him again.

He came back.

“Tell me the boats are on their way,” I said. I needed to get back to the shore and find a hotel. I was not about to spend the next three days as filthy as this, nor was I going to take a bath in the icy lake.

“Not in this fog,” said Jason. “They'll wait for it to burn off.”

“What if it doesn't burn off?”

Jason rolled his eyes. “All fog burns off eventually.”

It was the “eventually” I was worried about. I wanted to go home now. I was wet, dirty, hungry, and I had to go to the bathroom again.

“I don't suppose, as an expert woodsman, you would know where to find breakfast around here?” I said, wrapping my arms around my knees.

Jason gave me a funny look. I didn't know what it meant.

“I guess that depends whether you'd rather wait here for the boats or take a hike.”

“Take a hike?” For a second I thought he was telling me to get lost.

“Fine,” he said. “Let's go.”

I stood up and we started walking in the opposite direction from the lake. We went further and further into the woods and I started to get nervous again. I could hardly justify holding Jason's hand now though.

No breakfast was forthcoming. And after we'd walked for about half an hour I started getting thirsty too. We were going uphill now.

I stopped and sat down on a log. “Are we going anywhere in particular?” I said.

Jason gave me that funny look again. “What did Alec tell you about this trip?” he said.

“That I ought to be right at home in the wilderness since I'm such a mess at a formal dinner,” I said without thinking about it.

Jason winced. I guess it did sound a little bitter. Either that it or his expression was a comment on what a huge mess I was right now. He probably couldn't imagine how I could get worse. My cheeks heated up. It was true, there was nowhere I belonged, nowhere I was competent. Except at my desk at work.

What I wouldn't give to be there right now.

In different clothes.

“Why are you with that guy?” said Jason.

My mouth was on autopilot, I'm afraid – total honesty mode. “He's good in bed.”

Jason winced again and started walking. I got up and followed since there didn't seem to be any other options.

“What?” I panted as I tried to catch up with him.

“What do you mean what?” he said over his shoulder, picking his way through some boulders.

“You keep giving me weird looks.”

“I was just thinking you could probably use some social skills training.”

“Look who's talking, Fishman.”

He glanced back again, and knock me over with a feather, I swear he was smiling. I didn't know his facial muscles could move in that fashion.

It's horrible to be wet for hours. My clothes were not dripping like they had been the night before, just markedly damp, stiff, sticky, and cold. Like wearing a giant salamander skin on my body. Not as slippery though. Grittier. But it still made me think of wrestling that giant fish at the trout farm.

Brandt Trout Farm. Jason's farm. He must own it.

“Why on earth do you spend your weekends gutting fish?” I said. We seemed to be on a trail. I guess this wasn't complete wilderness after all. I caught up to Jason and walked side by side. “Why don't you hire somebody else to do it? I mean, you're rich, right?”

That look again.

“I suppose I'm rich. But I still need to work.”

“I know.” I was in the same boat. I had enough money to retire if I really wanted to, but then what? Sail around the world and do nothing? Go to charity dinners? Heaven forbid. I needed work to stay sane. “But you've got a whole corporation. Why do you have to do the dirtiest job in it?”

“You can't think of an answer to that?” he said.

I thought for a minute. “To stay grounded.”

“It was my first job, when I was in high school. My grandpa owned the farm back then, along with the tree farm and pumpkin patch. My dad worked for him. He was your typical business shark, buying and selling other companies. He built up Brandt Enterprises. Grandpa was just a farmer and a fisherman.”

“You're more like your grandfather.”

Jason shrugged. It was a pretty movement of his shoulder. Crap. Knowing he was trying to follow in the humble footsteps of his sainted granddad just made him hotter.