Date: Wed, 23 Jul 2008 03:47:05 -0700 (PDT)
From: justinr_88@yahoo.com
Subject: Love is All that Matters part 24

Do NOT read further if you are not of legal age. All the
usual disclaimers apply. All rights reserved to the author.

BLURB: It's the night of the Surf Fest and Harrison has a
trick up his sleeve. But he's in for a surprise himself.



                  LOVE IS ALL THAT MATTERS

                       ~ Chapter 24 ~



From the Narrative of Harrison Ridgeway IV:

"Come on, Mom, we've got to hurry," I said impatiently, as I
finished the last button on my shirt. "Josh needs me back at
the cafe."

Mom appeared from her bedroom, elegantly dressed in a floral-
print summer dress with her long, red hair coiled on top of
her head. "It's not me who isn't ready," she declared.

Sighing loudly, I knocked on Reid's door. "Reid! You're
taking longer than a girl to get ready."

The door opened and Reid stuck his disheveled head and bare
shoulders out. I narrowed my eyes. "Why aren't you dressed?"

"I'm not going," stated Reid.

"Huh? And why not?" I asked.

Reid looked morose. "Because there's absolutely no reason I
should go."

"What do you mean?" I asked, puzzled. "You maintained your
second placing in the Surf Fest."

"Yes, yet again. It's getting embarrassing."

I was incredulous. "Are you telling me you're not going
because you're sulking over not winning?" I started to
laugh, stopping hastily when Mom shot a glare at me.

"Reid," Mom said gently, "It's not a big deal. Second place
is still an achievement, especially against so many
contestants from all over California."

"Yeah, and besides, you do own half the caf‚. You're one of
the hosts of the party. You'll be missed if you don't come,"
I added.


Reid didn't look convinced. It suddenly dawned on me there
could be another reason for Reid's hesitance. In previous
years he must have attended the party with a boyfriend in
tow - that boyfriend now being my boyfriend. I felt a rush
of guilt; if that was his reason, then I was ill-placed to
change his mind.

Fortunately, Mom had a better tactic. "Joshua and Harrison
are going to be busy with their duties at the party. Someone
needs to keep me company."

If anything could have persuaded Reid, this was it. I saw
him wavering and went in for the kill. "You know how Mom is
- she can't be trusted on her own. She'll get up to all
sorts of mischief if you don't tie her down." I risked
another glare from Mom, hiding my grin as I did so.

Before Reid could reply, Mom said, "It's decided then. Look,
I ironed this shirt for you and you should wear it to the
party. It will go beautifully with your eyes." She produced
a cobalt-blue shirt with an Indian design embroidered in
yellow on it.

Reid stared at her open-mouthed. "How did you know - I
hadn't even decided to come!"

Mom smiled widely. "Let's put it down to women's intuition.
Now don't keep everyone waiting. Go and get changed
quickly." She handed the shirt to him and practically chased
him into his room.

I couldn't help but laugh at the helpless look Reid gave me
before the door closed. "Poor Reid didn't stand a chance
against you, Mom," I told her.

Mom put her hands on her hips and looked at me. "Well, I
couldn't let the poor boy sit around the house and mope. He
needs to go out and enjoy himself."

I surprised her by giving her a quick hug. "Thanks, Mom. You
really got me out of an impossible situation there. I didn't
think Reid was going to listen to me. But this party is a
great opportunity for him to have a little fun, meet someone
new - which is what he desperately needs."

Mom eyed me suspiciously. "What's all this about Reid
meeting someone new?" Seeing the guilty look on my face, Mom
said, "Harrison! He said he doesn't want to be introduced to
anyone. Don't tell me you're up to-"

I laughingly calmed her down. "Don't worry, I'm not going to
push him into anything he doesn't want. We'll watch and see
how it goes, okay?" She still looked suspicious, so I added,
"The worst possible thing that could happen is he'll have to
spend his time at the party talking with a middle-aged
woman. Does that sound so bad?" I knew she couldn't disagree
with me.

                            * * *

"Harry! Over here!" Josh raised his voice to be heard over
the music and the crowd.

I made my way through the crowd to the counter where he was.
"You took forever," he added with a touch of reproach.

I apologized with a light kiss on his cheek. "Sorry, Reid
didn't want to come at first, but with Mom's help he changed
his mind. What did I miss?"

"Nothing much really. Could you help with this tray of hors
d'oeuvres? Thanks. Just circulate around with it. Oh, and
your friend Dean arrived while you weren't here."

I carefully balanced the tray while scanning the crowd to
locate Dean. I spotted him at the far end of the bar, but I
couldn't see Marc with him.

"Didn't Marc come with him?" I asked Josh.

"If you mean his boyfriend, yeah, he did. Did you say his
name was Marc? I didn't catch it but he seems to be one of
those journalistic types, writes for some magazine or
other."

"Newspaper," I corrected. At his enquiring look, I
explained, "He writes for the Corona Times."

"Oh, right. Anyway, he's going around interviewing the
organizers and winners, that sort of thing. Both he and Dean
were asking for you."

"Okay then, I'll go and say hi to them."

Josh tapped my shoulder as I turned to go. "Hold on there,
who's going to distribute these then?" he asked, gesturing
towards the tray.

I felt my face redden. "Sorry, I got a little carried away.
I'll serve the hors d'oeuvres first, and then only go to
greet the guys. But if my serving path takes me past Dean or
Marc, I can't help but say hi to them, right?" I asked
innocently.

Josh grinned. "Sounds like a fair deal to me."

Of course I didn't purposely take advantage of his leniency.
I actually finished serving more than half the room before I
reached Dean, who smirked when he saw me approaching.

"I didn't realize you'd given up the accounting profession
to take up waiting tables?" he joked.

I pulled a face. "Very funny. I'm just helping out Josh;
he's short of staff tonight."

Dean took in the crowd of people in the caf‚ and the extra
tables placed on the deck outside. "I'll say," he agreed.

"So are you enjoying yourself? How come you aren't following
Marc around?"

"Oh, he's in full professional mode tonight. I'd probably
cramp his style." He lowered his voice. "I wanted to say hi
to Reid. But maybe that isn't such a hot idea when he's
looking so ... down."

I felt another prick of guilt. "Well, he's kind of upset
about the championship results."

Dean raised his eyebrows. "But he won second place, right?
What's so upsetting about that?"

"Exactly what I told him. My mom had to literally drag him
to this party."

"In that case, I definitely would not be the best person to
cheer him up. Although I'll tell you what cheered ME up
earlier at the Surf Fest - the sight of Reid in just his
boardshorts."

I grinned in response to his devious wink. "Yes, those
shorts were pretty low."

"You're telling me!" exclaimed Dean. "And yet there I was
hoping they'd slip just that little bit lower."

I shook my head in amusement. "One day in our house and all
your dreams will come true. If Mom wasn't staying there,
it'd be really hard to make him put ANY clothes on!"

Dean's eyes grew wide at the mental image and I laughed
uncontrollably. "Don't tell me you're regretting your
earlier decision not to hook up with Reid."

Dean shook his head firmly. "Nah, that much hotness would
probably scorch me! Marc might not be Brad Pitt, but to me
he's cute and everything else besides."

I smiled at him. "Well, that's good to hear. I can consider
you guys my one success in matchmaking."


"Uh, don't look now, but I think your boyfriend's signaling
to you to continue serving."

I looked dismally down at the tray. "And here I was thinking
he was going to let me have it easy. After all, I only came
here on a voluntary basis."

Dean laughed. "Now you know how the real world works. In
bed, your boyfriend may be sweetness and light, but at work
he's a slave-driver."

"What makes you so certain he isn't one in bed as well?" was
my parting shot.

                            * * *

Some time later, when I'd finished unloading my tray, I felt
someone tap on my shoulder. I turned around to find Marc.

"Hey! Marc. I'm sorry I couldn't talk to you earlier but
..." I noticed he was looking anxious. "Is something wrong?"

He shifted from one foot to the other. "I don't know how to
say this but ... well, you were the one who changed Dean's
mind about taking me back."

I shrugged. "I don't think he needed much persuading. At
most I made him realize what was there all along."

"That was still a great help. And if you hadn't advised me
to keep trying, I might just have given up." He hesitated.
"That's what I need again: your advice. I'm in a bit of a
dilemma." He gazed at me intently, and I could see from the
pleading look in his eyes that, whatever he was going to
say, he wanted me to side with him.

I sighed. "Despite what you might think, I'm not the best
person to go for advice. But if you really want it, go ahead
and shoot."

"Can we ... go somewhere a little more private?"

I nodded and led him to the backroom. Shutting the door, I
turned to look at him enquiringly.

Marc took a deep breath and began, "Well ... It's like this.
You have to understand, this happened when I thought it
extremely unlikely that Dean would ever take me back."

I didn't like where this was going, especially given Marc's
past indiscretion which had to his breakup in the first
place. "Don't tell me, you're having another affair."

Marc looked horrified. "What? No! Definitely not. There's no
way I'd do that to him a second time. No, it was nothing
like that." He paused.

"Okay then, what is it?"

Avoiding looking me in the eye, he said quickly, without
stopping, "I went for an interview with another newspaper.
The job they were offering was a lot better than the one I
have now. Better salary, perks, you name it. I didn't expect
to get it, but then, just a few days ago, they wrote back,
offering me the job." He looked at me expectantly.

That didn't sound at all bad to me. I voiced my thoughts.
"But ... that's good news, right?"

"Well..." Marc screwed up his face before continuing, "This
job? It's with the Chicago Herald."

I exclaimed, "Do you mean to say this job is in Chicago?"

Marc looked unhappy. With an effort, I lowered my voice and
continued, "What does Dean think about this?" From the look
on Marc's face, I already knew the answer. "You haven't told
him yet."

"I didn't dare to tell him. We've only been back together a
couple of weeks now and this - this could ruin everything."
He looked at me helplessly.

Trying to think calmly, I asked, "Okay, how do you think
Dean will feel about this?"

"You know what he'll think. He'll feel that I've let him
down again. I don't want to. I really want him to come with
me, move to Chicago. But I know he won't agree to that. He
has his parents, his own dream job, all right here in Corona
Beach. He would never -"

"Then you know what you have to do," I cut in.

"But ... a job with the Herald is the opportunity of a
lifetime! And the pay is excellent!" he whined.

I glared at him. "Your dilemma, as you put it, consists
entirely of you choosing between more money and your
boyfriend, supposedly the love of your life."

"He is the love of my life; it's just that -" He was at a
loss for words. "Please don't look at me like that," he
begged.

I sighed heavily. "I suppose I really can't judge you - I've
never been put in a similar situation before. But if I were,
and I had to choose, I would pick Josh. I've never done much
for him, not the way he's helped me out. I would like to say
I could never think of leaving him, but then again I already
have my dream job right here in Corona Beach. This is a
decision you have to make for yourself, Marc. But I think
your choice should be obvious."

Marc was silent. Then he said quietly, "I love Dean. Losing
him the first time showed me just how much I did. I don't
want to go through that again. I suppose I'll have to reject
the job offer."

I patted his arm sympathetically. "Maybe you can talk it
over with Dean. You never know he might just agree-"

He smiled sadly at me. "We both know it wouldn't work out
that way. What's a job with one of the country's top-ranked
newspapers anyway? It doesn't hold a candle to Dean." I knew
he was trying to console himself, so I didn't say anything.

He spoke instead. "You probably have to get back to the
party. Go ahead."

I looked at him in concern. "Are you sure -"

"Yeah, I'll be okay." He gave a winning smile that would
have given Reid a run for his money on a good day. But I
knew he wasn't really happy. I gave him what I hoped was a
reassuring smile and left, a little reluctantly.

Outside I bumped into Josh. "Oh, sorry. Is there anything
else you want me to serve?"

Josh smiled. "No, you can take a little break now. Hey,
isn't that your boss over there?"

I looked in the direction he was pointing. Sure enough, Mr.
Fernley was making his way through the crowd towards the
counter. Something Josh had said struck me.

"Wait a minute, how did you know what Mr. Fernley looks
like?"

Josh stared. Then he quickly said, "Oh, everyone in Corona
Beach knows what Mr. Fernley looks like. I mean, he is one-
half of the town's No. 1 accounting firm."

"Oh." His answer was convincing enough, but somehow I felt
something was amiss. I was distracted from my train of
thought by Mr. Fernley's arrival at the counter.

"Good evening, Harrison. I see why you had to request half
the day off. This party must have required some organizing."

"Uh, yes, sir. But it wasn't really me who did most of the
organizing; it was my boyfriend here."

Josh extended his hand politely. "Joshua Spencer."

Mr. Fernley shook Josh's hand. "Adrian Fernley."

I noticed Mom, who was sitting at the counter, looking our
way. "Oh and this is my mother, Marcia Ridgeway."

"Marcia Sedgwick," she corrected. She was still in the
process of divorcing her husband, but she chose to give her
maiden name instead. I watched curiously as Mr. Fernley
shook Mom's hand.

"Pleased to meet you, Miss Sedgwick," replied Mr. Fernley.

"The pleasure is all mine. I was hoping to thank you in
person for the lovely roses you sent me while I was in
hospital."

I was amazed to see a slight blush tinge Mr. Fernley's
cheeks. It suddenly dawned on me that Mr. Fernley could only
be a few years older than my mother.

"I actually sent those on behalf of the office," said Mr.
Fernley, betraying the slightest discomfiture. "Your son was
very upset by your unfortunate hospitalization and all of us
at F&A were very pleased to hear you made a full recovery."

"Well, thank you for your concern."

Mr. Fernley cleared his throat, and looked around. "I meant
to introduce my nephew to you, Harrison. But he has
disappeared with his girlfriend, let me see ..."

I spotted Liz easily, and the back of the guy talking to
her.

"Is that him over there?" I asked.

"Hmm? Yes, that's him. Carter!" called Mr. Fernley. The guy
talking to Liz turned towards us. And that was the first
time I saw Carter Holborn.

To say that he was the most beautiful guy I had ever laid
eyes on would be an understatement. As a rule I don't like
guys with long hair; Carter was the exception to this rule.
His wavy, strawberry blond locks came down to his shoulder,
framing a face with high cheekbones and full, pink lips. But
that was not his most incredible feature. No, that honour
belonged to his mesmerizing eyes - they were the most
exquisite shade of green, perfectly combining the sparkle of
emeralds and the softness of new leaves. One could drown in
those verdant pools.

Mr. Fernley's voice cut into my thoughts. "Harrison, let me
introduce you to my nephew, Carter Holborn. Carter, this is
Harrison Ridgeway."

"Nice to meet you." Somewhat dazed, I shook the proffered
hand and thought how even his voice has so damned sexy. His
grip was strong, unsurprising given that his clothes, well-
cut as they were, did little to hide the fact that he had a
muscular build. And suddenly it dawned on me that I was
thinking about a guy, a straight guy no less, in these terms
with my boyfriend standing right next to me!

Inwardly scolding myself, I managed to say, "My pleasure."
Yet despite my best attempts, I found myself drawn once
again to those gorgeous eyes, sucked into their green depths
... oh God what was happening to me!

Mr. Fernley rescued me by saying, "You know, I'm quite sure
I saw Phil near the entrance. Did you -"

"Yes!" I was so eager to get away from Carter's hormonally-
charged presence that I didn't realize I'd practically
shouted the word out. I tried to cover my slipup by hastily
adding, "I was the one who asked him to come, so I think I'd
better go and talk to him. You can all keep chatting."

Without another word I hurried away from the group. I could
feel their curious stares on my back. Even Reid, who'd been
distractedly swirling his drink, had looked up when I'd made
a fool of myself. I prayed that no one realized the true
reason for my apparent rudeness. It was to my great relief
that I managed to quickly spot Phil's brown-haired head near
the entrance, just like Mr. Fernley had said.

Phil grinned when he saw me. "Harrison! I've been looking
all over for you. I even saw Mr. Fernley, but not you.
Where've you been?"

"I was in the backroom, talking with a friend," I replied.

Phil gave me a quick once-over. "I see your boyfriend has
you dressed in a cute uniform. He must know that I love men
in uniform."

I raised my eyebrows. "I thought you loved surfer boys ...
and the less clothes the better."

Phil said seriously, "Well, that's convenient for a quickie.
But when you've got the time, peeling off the uniform can be
the best part."

I laughed. It was so hard not to with Phil around. I rapidly
forgot about the brief moment when the sight of Carter
Holborn had set my pulse racing.



From the Narrative of Reid Scott:

I hadn't wanted to attend this party, and with good reason.
It was very much the champion's party, and I was merely the
runner-up. Far worse was the fact that I was boyfriend-less
and alone. Yes, I'd agreed to keep Marcia company, but she
seemed to have found her own way to stay occupied. I watched
her awkward interaction with Harrison's boss with some
amusement.

I leaned over towards Josh and whispered, "Are those two
flirting?"

There was no reply. I turned to look at him and found him
staring distractedly at something. I followed his line of
vision and saw Harrison talking with a handsome but pale,
dark-haired guy. It appeared Marcia and Adrian weren't the
only ones flirting. Worriedly, I looked back at Josh.

I could immediately read the expression on his face. I'd
suffered from the same feeling when I first saw Josh and
Harrison kissing. I knew that Josh, who was otherwise the
most perfect guy imaginable, had one flaw: he was prone to
jealousy.

I cursed Harrison's foolishness. What on earth had possessed
him to flirt openly with another guy right in front of Josh?
I truly regretted that Josh had never been able to feel
about me the same way he felt about Harrison. At one time,
I'd begrudged Harrison for it. But now that I'd gotten to
know Harrison, I discovered that I had grown quite fond of
the little guy. I didn't like to see him dig his own grave,
and hurt the man we both loved in the process.

I decided that I had to do something about the situation. I
got up and headed in Harrison's direction.

"Hey, Harrison," I said as I reached the giggling pair.
Harrison looked up guiltily at the sound of my voice. So the
idiot did realize he was doing something wrong!

I said pointedly, "I think you're needed at the counter."
Harrison looked towards the counter - and Josh - and nodded
mutely.

"I'll catch you later, Phil," he said to his friend, and
walked off.

I turned to Phil, intending to give him a piece of my mind
for flirting with Josh's boyfriend. But when I got a good
look at him, I forgot all about ticking him off. I hadn't
noticed earlier just how good-looking he was. A little pale,
certainly, but it made his straight dark-brown hair and deep
brown eyes even more startling.

I hoped I was keeping my attraction to myself, because Phil
was unable to tear his eyes away from me.

I said gruffly, "It's rude to stare."

Phil seemed to come to his senses. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean
to." I noted the slight accent he had. It was undeniably
sexy, not that I was going to let him know that I thought
so.

"So how do you know Harrison?" I asked.

"We, uh, we work in the same division at F&A. I'm Philippe
Montpellier. Except most people around here call me Phil."
He seemed to warm to his topic. "Americans are fond of short
names."

"From which I gather you're not American."

He shook his head. "No, I'm French."

"Ah, that explains the accent."

For some unknown reason he blushed. The pink tinge to his
alabaster complexion made him even cuter.

He must have realized it was his turn to speak. "So, what's
the short version of your name?"

"Don't have one. It isn't possible when your name is a
monosyllable."

"The monosyllable being ...?" Damn, his accent made even the
most boring word like `monosyllable' sound erotic.

"Reid."

He enquired, "Do you have a last name to go with that?"

"Yes, Scott."

This provoked a flash of emotion in him which I couldn't
quite place. He recovered quickly and retorted, "Further
proof that Americans love short names. Do you have a name
that isn't a monosyllable?" I found myself wishing that he
would keep saying that word.

"My middle name is Emerson," I offered.

"That's a nice name," he commented. "After the famous
American poet?"

I nodded.

Then, unexpectedly, he said, "You won second place in the
Surf Fest."

"Yes." I didn't think anyone would recognize me. I did
appear different in person than I did on a surfboard.
Besides, people usually only had eyes for the champ, not
that I begrudged Carter for being both a master on his board
and hot to trot.

"I watched you, earlier today. You were wonderful,
especially when you did that ... swan dive? Is that what you
call it?"

I laughed. "You mean a duck dive. Do you actually know
anything about surfing?"

He looked down, embarrassed. "No."

"I thought not. You couldn't possibly be out on the sea much
with that complexion. So why do you watch surfing?"

"For the cute guys," he admitted, sounding forlorn. For some
reason, it tugged at my heartstrings.

I surprised myself by asking, "Do you have a boyfriend?"

He shook his head. "No, but I know what you're hinting at."

"I'm not hinting at anything!" I defended myself with some
annoyance. It had only been a few minutes ago that I'd been
about to admonish him for flirting with Harrison.

Subdued, he said, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to anger you.
It's just that ... I find you rather attractive." The last
words were barely above a whisper, and the color rose in his
cheeks. His shyness shouldn't have been appropriate for a
guy of his age (I assumed he was around my own age) but it
bewildered me that I found it strangely appealing. Maybe
because it reminded me a little of the first time I'd met
Josh.

On a sudden impulse I asked, "It's kind of noisy in here. Do
you ... do you want to go for a walk on the beach?"

He looked at me with his brown eyes wide. "Y-yes."

"Okay, I just have to tell someone so that they won't be
looking for me."

He nodded eagerly. I looked around. Josh was the nearest, so
I approached him. "Josh, I'm going for a walk on the beach,
okay?"


"You're going alone?" he asked.

"No, with someone."

Josh looked behind me, towards Phil who was looking
anxiously in our direction.

He raised his eyebrows. "I see. Sure."

"Okay, thanks. I'll catch you later."

I turned to go, when Josh's voice called me back. "Reid?"

"Yeah?"

"Have a good time. You deserve it." He didn't wait for my
reply, which was just as well, because I didn't know what to
say.

I walked back to Phil. "Okay, c'mon."

He looked tentatively at me, and then quietly followed me
out of the cafe, and into the moonlit night.


                     To be continued ...


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