Ruby Island

by Anita Rodriguez

  Ruby Island

  Anita Renaghan

  Chapter 1

  If Amy Reynolds knew that she would be crash landing into a deserted island later today, she would have packed more film, and probably more clothes. She looked back at the TV for a moment and scowled at the face of Sarah Robinson, the gorgeous daytime television host who had taken America by storm. She was bright, friendly, serious when necessary, and sometimes even regal, and there was no way to compete.

  "Is that Sarah Robinson I hear in the background?" Nicole's voice chirped from the phone.

  "No," Amy lied, and she clicked the TV off.

  "Don't worry about her, Amy. You've got this."

  "Nicole, we are going to do our jobs today, and that's all," Amy defended for the tenth time this morning.

  “With Bill and Matt there together, it will be a bit strange for you."

  Amy moaned. "I haven't dated Bill in over four years and we’re just friends, and Matt is engaged to Sarah, so it won't be weird at all," Amy said, even though she knew it might be a little strange.

  Amy didn’t know she was in love with Matt Cole at first. They were friendly, although they bickered and picked on each other sometimes. She would have to be dead not to notice that he was tall, dark, and handsome, but he was also arrogant. Amy didn’t fathom that she’d liked him from the start until Nicole asked her why they had never dated.

  She realized that she’d had a quiet crush on Matt Cole since she'd met him two years ago, a crush that brought her to the verge of being silently in love. It was the high school kind though, where she daydreamed about him but never really said anything except to her friends, which had been a big mistake.

  When Matt started dating Sarah Robinson last year, Amy wouldn't allow herself to admit that she was crushed. Sarah was the boss' daughter, and the whole country was in love with her.

  "Still, maybe if you flirt with Bill a little, Matt will realize he's jealous," Nicole held out.

  "I'm going to be late. I've got to go."

  "Okay, hon. See you soon." There was silence on the line and Amy knew her friend was considering a full court press. Amy couldn't endure anymore so she ended the call.

  She placed her camera with lenses and packs of high quality film in her gig bag along with a skimpy two piece bikini that she knew she would never dare to wear. She packed it though, because last time she was on Bill Ruby's island estate, he had gotten her drunk and she had skinny dipped with him, and she didn't want to chance a repeat indiscretion.

  "I'm leaving, Mabel!" she called as she skipped down the stairs into the living room.

  "You're moving out?" Mabel called back. Amy let out a long sigh of exasperation.

  "No, Mom!" she said, because Mabel didn't like to be addressed as 'mom'. Amy saw it as a floundering attempt to not feel like she was getting older. "I'm going out of town for work."

  Mabel came around the corner dressed in a matching skirt and jacket, with a pearl necklace and earrings, a small purse hanging from her wrist. Her makeup was perfectly applied, and Amy instinctively looked for the white gloves. She might have thought her mother was going to a formal event had it not been eight o'clock in the morning. Mabel was a throwback and often liked to dress like a leading lady in a movie from 1943, and today was no different.

  "Don't you want me to stay with you anymore, or am I cramping your style?"

  "I love you, honey. You know that. I'm a widow and I'm supposed to need your company. As it is though, I’m your companion." Mabel sighed and fixed Amy's collar that had been twisted up by the strap of her gig bag. "If you move out, dear, you will be lonely and forced to go back out into the world and find a man."

  Amy shook her head and then smiled to herself when her mom pulled a pair of white gloves out of her purse and then shoved them back in.

  This had been the topic of conversation for three months, and it was starting to work. Amy was ready to move out just to get Mabel to stop nagging her. "Mabel, I'm sorry to be a bother. I tried living with a man, and it just didn't work out for me."

  Amy took her windbreaker from the front closet and rolled it up, stuffing it into her bag. She had been hurt badly by her last boyfriend. They had lived together for two years, and he had moved on while they were still together. He didn't even have the guts to break up properly. Amy had found him in bed with another woman in their apartment, and she had been living with her mother ever since.

  Her mom rested her hand on Amy's arm and they looked at each other. "Amy, I just want you to find your own happiness. I found it with your father, God rest his soul, and I want you to find the same thing."

  "I know, Mom," Amy said gently.

  "You spend all of your time with your friends who are already married, and unless they are going to set you up with one of their friends, you aren't going to meet your match sitting around here with me or hiding behind that camera of yours."

  "I know, Mom," Amy said again, this time pulling her arm away. So what if she wanted to spend time with her friends? They understood her, they cared about her, and they were good people. Was she supposed to waste her time with morons who were interested in themselves, or were looking for a stay-at-home mother for their kids?

  She shuddered at the thought of the bad runs of dates she'd had over the years before straightening up at the thought of the trip she was about to take. She was wearing her best khakis today with a white button down blouse, and she was comfortable.

  Her phone chirped and Amy knew her ride was waiting outside. "I'm going. I'll be back tomorrow night," Amy said and she kissed the air next to her mother's cheek so as to not smear her makeup.

  "Travel safe, dear," her mom said. "And call me Mabel."

  Amy rolled her eyes, grabbed her bag, and left the townhouse.

  Amy stepped into the SUV and put her gig bag next to her. "Thank you," she said, and the driver stepped on the gas. Her phone chirped again and Amy smiled. It was one of the friends that she shouldn't be wasting her time with according to Mabel. Of course, her mom didn't mean it that way. Amy couldn't believe how hurt she still was over what's his name. She slid her finger over the phone and answered the ring.

  "I'm on my way to pick you up."

  "Lucy, I'm already in a car on the way to the airport. I told you that you don't have to drive me."

  "Please, it gives me an excuse to get out of the house. Besides, I wanted to badger you about Matt Cole. You're going to be alone with him for the entire day. You need to make a move."

  Amy huffed. How many times did she have to say it? "Lucy, he is a coworker, and he's engaged!"

  "But you’re going to be on the airplane with him, so you will be forced to sit together and talk. Are you nervous?" Lucy sounded way too excited.

  "No. Why would I be nervous?" Amy asked, picking at her nails.

  "Because he's gorgeous and you love him," Lucy badgered like a teenager.

  "I'm hanging up now, Lucy. Live vicariously through someone else." Amy looked up and noticed the driver's smile in the rear view mirror.

  "I know, right?" Lucy laughed. A baby cried in the background and Amy had to pull the phone away from her ear when Lucy yelled for the nanny. Amy disconnected the call.

  She felt butterflies in her stomach, butterflies that weren't there before Lucy had mentioned being nervous. Amy shook her head back and forth as the car pulled up to the office. She had no reason to be nervous around a pompous man like Matt Cole. So what if he was gorgeous. There were plenty of fish in the sea, and besides, Amy had no intention of keeping her sights on an engaged fish.

  "Thanks," Amy told the driver as she got out of the car.

  She slammed the door and turned toward the skyscraper. The blue and white sky reflected off the windows above her, and Amy took in a deep breat
h as she did each time she stopped by the magazine's office. It was One World Trade Center, and Chase Row Press had moved all of their magazines here two years earlier. Amy entered the building and showed her badge to the security guard who nodded her through. She crammed onto the elevator and waited for the 73rd floor. When the doors opened, she stepped out and looked through the large glass doors in front of her. She simultaneously recognized half of the faces and none of the faces in the office. It was a magazine, and it was a revolving door for the new staff as they moved over and moved up, but the senior level positions didn't change much.

  Amy moved along the open cubicles and walked back to Charley's office. He was the editor-in-chief of two magazines, and his office was the largest one. It was made of four glass walls and had a stunning look over New York City. Amy nodded at the faces she recognized and high-fived one of the staff photographers who dashed past her for the elevator. Amy had started as a staff photographer, and it was a relentless and thankless job.

  "Amy Rey Rey, you'd better stop over here when you're done with Charley," Nicole called over.

  "I think we covered everything on the phone," Amy shot back over the cubicles that flooded the center of the floor. Nicole winked. They had come up as photographers together from the newspaper to the magazine, and where Amy had tired of office politics and horrible assignments, Nicole had worked like a dog and had made it on staff two years earlier. Amy was a highly sought after photographer these days, and Nicole always requested her when Charley approved assignments.

  Amy stopped at the desk outside Charley's office, but she could see through the wall of glass that he was alone. She would have hated an office like that because she would have felt too exposed to everyone around her. Amy preferred the cocoon-like feeling of the dark room, but Charley preferred to let all of his employees know that he was watching.

  "Go ahead in," his secretary said with her lips straight across, which was her version of a smile.

  Amy opened the glass door. "Anna Banana," Charley said without looking up.

  "Hey Charley," Amy said as she crossed the spacious office and sat across from him. He'd been her first editor at the magazine and he’d not been friendly then, but he had taught her a lot and they had become pals over time. Amy waited patiently. She had learned to let him finish what he was reading and then he would give her his full attention for about a minute before there was the next fire to put out. His job was relentless, but he loved it.

  He was dressed in a crisp blue suit and his gray hair was trimmed neatly. He was now the father figure in her life, and he'd helped her a lot after her failed engagement. Amy loved that he still called her Anna Banana, too. He'd mistaken her name and called her Anna when she'd started with the magazine, and when he'd added the Banana, she knew they were friends. Charley was always the stoic hard-headed manager, but Amy got to see a benevolent soft side few people were privy to.

  Charley sighed and pushed the paper away. He stretched his neck and tilted his head down as though he was looking over a pair of bifocals, but he had never worn glasses. "Flying out?" he asked.

  "Yes."

  "Need cash or anything for expenses?"

  "No, I'm good," Amy answered. She hadn't stopped by for anything specific because these days everything was emailed to her in advance. Her travel itinerary was already in her phone and her advance was already direct deposited in her bank account. Still, she was superstitious and she liked to touch base face to face.

  "I'll get the photos to Nicole by next Wednesday," Amy said, ready for Charley's sarcasm.

  "Yes, per your request, she’s your editor on this one. Hell, she’s your editor from here to eternity, Amy. She's the only one on staff who can still work with film. You should get a digital camera. You could email the photos by tomorrow night and be done with it."

  Amy pulled her gig bag in closer and Charley chuckled. "Don't worry, I'm not going to make you go digital. You will go willingly one of these days though."

  "Not likely," Amy said. She loved the look and feel of photo paper, and although digital photos were crisper and more detailed to the human eye in some way, Amy felt that her job was art. She also knew that she got hired as a photographer because of her discretion, and she kept control of her originals, only sending in the shots that she approved. Other photographers sent in the entire digital file, and the magazines didn't always print the most flattering pictures.

  Amy smiled. "Call me when all of these computers go down, and I'll say 'I told you so'."

  It was Charley's turn to smile.

  Amy asked, "How's Estelle these days?"

  "You have the gall to ask me about my ex-wife?" Charley feigned surprise and then nodded. "She's fine. She won't marry me, but she's fine."

  "So you want to get married again?" Amy asked.

  "Call me old-fashioned." They were divorced for ten years and had been back together for ten more years, but they had never remarried.

  Amy stood to leave. "Well, it’s a miracle she married you the first time. Don't press your luck."

  "You're right about that, Anna Banana." Charley pushed his chair back as though he would stand to say good-bye, but he never did. "Thanks for the Bill Ruby story, Amy. Really, I appreciate it." Amy tried not to blush. "You're my favorite boss, Charley," she said, turning to leave.

  "Take good care of my future son-in-law," he called after her.

  Amy inhaled quickly and tried to control the flash of heat that she felt on her neck. She pushed the large glass door open with her shoulder and waved a hand behind her, but she didn't turn back to face Charley with her parting comment. "Matt is a big boy, and I'm sure he can take care of himself."

  Nicole was waving her over, but there was no need as Amy was already headed in that direction. "Ooh," Nicole said under her breath. "Talking about Matt with the big boss. You're not intimidated by his daughter?"

  "No, I'm not intimidated by his daughter," Amy retorted too loudly. She sank down into the chair that was at the edge of Nicole's immense cubicle. "Thanks a lot," Amy muttered, her curly bangs bouncing across her eyes.

  "Sorry," Nicole said. "It's just that this might be your last chance to, you know." Nicole didn't finish her thought.

  "To what?" Amy asked but then pulled back. "Don't answer that." Amy opened the car ride app on her phone, and Nicole leaned sideways in her chair so she could see around Amy's bangs.

  "Then why did you get him this job?" she asked.

  "I don't know," Amy said defensively. "He's floundering, and he needs the work. He'll do a good write-up, don't worry."

  "I'm not worried about that, I'm worried about you," Nicole told her.

  "Well, I'm fine," Amy said.

  "You're right. Who has time for him when you're going to be with sexy Bill Ruby?" Nicole whistled. "Girl, tell me you are going to take some extra time down on that island for old times’ sake."

  "Nicole," Amy pleaded. "That was a long time ago and we were barely a thing. We're just friends."

  Nicole looked down her nose at Amy. "Do you forget that I used to moonlight on the red carpet? I remember seeing you two snuggled up together for his premieres. And you can't tell me you don't find him delicious."

  Amy shook her head and sighed in exasperation. "Matt or Bill? You just can't make up your mind."

  "You make up your mind, girl."

  "Really? I already have, and it's neither." Amy stood and tried to play it cool, but she was blushing. "Proofs in a week?" They snapped their fingers and pointed at each other.

  "Proofs in a week," Nicole repeated. "Be good, baby girl, or you're going to sink fast."

  "When are you going to get an office?" Amy teased.

  "You know I like it out here among my people."

  Amy smiled and moved to the lobby, pressing the button for the elevator. When she thought she couldn't feel any more confused about life, the door opened and Sarah Robinson stepped off the elevator. She often visited her father, Charley. Sarah was perfectly coiffed in a tight one-
piece dress with a slim belt, her long, brown hair perfectly in place. She was a news anchor turned daytime host and was moving up the national network ladder very quickly. Amy wondered if Sarah had the network hair and makeup staff on call to get her ready each day whether or not she was on air.

  Amy was ready to say hello since she had met Sarah on many occasions over the years, but Sarah clicked past her without notice, leaving Amy at the elevator with her mouth hanging open.

  Chapter 2

  Her ride was waiting around the corner and the trip to LaGuardia Airport was quick. Amy was distracted in the security line because she used film and she wanted to make sure it wasn't ruined in the x-ray machine. When the man behind her slammed his shoe bin into hers, she wheeled around to snap at him and was frozen in place with her mouth hanging open, staring up into Matt Cole's wonderfully deep brown eyes.

  "Hello, Reynolds," he said with his trademark lips-parted smile.

  Amy stuttered a greeting and leaned down to remove her shoes. "Matt," she said, trying not to look back at him. The TSA agent waved her forward and Amy almost forgot to hand over her film before it was sent through the machine. She hurriedly handed the bin over as the people in line behind Matt glared at her.

  He was standing behind her all ready to go through, smiling at her and watching as Amy scurried about, and she was glad when they waved her through to the other side of security. She needed to collect herself, never mind her belongings.

  Amy scrambled into her shoes and began to pack her camera with film back into her carry-ons. Matt was through security and ready to go before she was, and he waited by the benches. His cool demeanor and smile perturbed Amy sometimes, and for a moment she hated the fact that she still used film. If she went digital, she would be at the gate already.

  Matt chatted the entire way to the gate. "This is a great assignment. It would be better if it wasn't such a commute."

  "You don't like tropical islands?" Amy poked.