"I love the tropics, Reynolds. Do I get to see you in your bikini?"
"No!" she snapped before she realized he was joking.
"Touchy," he said. They looked at their phones and waited to board, and when first class was called, Matt stepped forward. "You aren't coming?" he asked and Amy shook her head.
"Come on, Reynolds. Use some of those travel miles to upgrade to first class."
"I'm saving them."
"For what?" he asked, but Amy stared at her phone and didn't answer. It took her a few moments to realize that Matt hadn't boarded. He was at the counter charming the gate agent into putting Amy next to him on the plane.
"She's my boss and she won't spend any of her own points to upgrade. Do you have a seat open in first class?" Amy heard him say.
Her face turned beet red and she tried to pretend she hadn't heard what he was talking about, but she couldn't help but peek up through her blonde bangs at the transaction. Matt was leaning halfway over the counter, his ear-to-ear smile charming the young attendant, and Amy felt anger rising in her stomach. Amy would never admit to herself that she was jealous.
She wondered why strangers didn’t find Matt annoying, but he seemed to be in control in any room, and people silently understood that. It was part of his charisma, the thing that made him the center of the universe.
"Thank you so much," Matt crowed. "Reynolds," he called to her. "Come over and show Leticia here your boarding pass. I think they put you in the wrong seat." She was looking at Matt as he winked in Leticia's direction, and the girl practically trembled under the weight of his charm.
"Here you go," Amy managed as she showed Leticia her phone.
"And your I.D. please," Leticia said. Amy pulled her wallet from the side pocket in her cargo pants and slid her license across the counter.
Leticia slid the new boarding pass back with Amy's license. "Here you are."
"Thank you," Amy said with a shy smile. She could feel her shoulders rise as she tried to tuck her head in the sand. She looked up at Matt who showed her a satisfied smile. Amy felt every wish she had in the world that included Matt Cole rise up into her throat. She gulped and turned to the boarding line, but Matt stayed at the counter for another moment to finish flirting with the attendant.
"Thank you so much. I owe you one."
"No problem. I hope you’ve spent your points wisely and she's not so hard on you at work anymore," Leticia said, and they exchanged a giggle. Amy turned to the door without waiting for Matt, but he caught up to her on the Jetway. He boarded in front of Amy and stowed his bag in first class, moving to his window seat.
"Sit your butt down, Reynolds." He patted the seat beside his own and smiled at her. His full lips and perfect teeth made her heart skip a beat, but she only half-smiled back. She pulled her oversized, leather camera bag up in front of her and he took it easily and tucked it under the seat. "Still shooting with film, Reynolds? We talked about this. Digital is faster, easier, and cheaper. It's probably also better for the environment." He stretched this last word out so she would know that he was mocking society's frenzy with saving the globe.
Working alongside Matt Cole for two years had taken much restraint. Amy felt contempt when he patronized her, anger when he was chivalrous, but weakness when she looked at him, and she always tried to avoid eye contact when he was looking directly at her. Amy Reynolds was petrified that Matt Cole could read her thoughts.
She knew he needed the work, and she had told herself all week that she had gotten him assigned to help him out, but Amy was finally realizing that her crush was never going to fade on its own. He was engaged now, and after this trip, she would have to keep her distance.
"I have used film in my work for the past fifteen years, Matt, and I don't intend to change now. As long as they sell it, I'll buy it. Besides," she flashed her own smile, "I would miss the dark room experience."
"Ooh, sounds kinky."
"And I still get work," she cut him off. "So, if it ain't broke, don't fix it." She was direct with him because around Matt she felt like she had to push out with her elbows just to make sure she had enough space to breathe. In turn, Matt played with her every chance he got.
Matt flashed his white teeth at her while he leaned over and pretended to stuff her camera bag further under the seat. He noticed her tight blonde curls and slender, faded khakis. They were headed to the tropics, and he could imagine sharing a pina colada with her and seeing where that could lead. But Reynolds was not to be toyed with. She’s too...genuine, he thought.
Still, where Sarah was a classic beauty, Reynolds’ no-nonsense demeanor and simple beauty was attractive, too. It said 'I dare you' in a way that made Matt wonder sometimes.
"What do you think of first class, Reynolds?" he asked her as though he owned the airplane.
"Very nice digs, Matt. I hope it wasn't too much trouble." She had decided to be gracious.
"You really should spend some of your airline points on upgrades. Are you trying to save up a million?" he asked as he pulled the window shade up.
"Something like that." Actually, Amy donated her miles to a children's charity that took kids with cancer on adventures, but she didn't want to tell Matt. She had heard enough from her mother on the subject that she should use her points for a vacation of her own. "I like to use my miles for vacation," Amy said.
He nodded his head slowly. "Good plan. Maybe I should have saved mine for the honeymoon."
"Yep, maybe," Amy replied, but she didn't want to talk about his honeymoon, so she clammed up.
"Do you want the window?" Matt asked when he noticed that she was looking over him and out the window.
"No thanks," she said as she clicked her seatbelt.
Matt plugged his earbuds into the seat jack to listen to the pilots chatter with the tower for a while, and they sat in silence during the rest of boarding, taxiing and takeoff.
"I guess I'm a geek when it comes to airplanes," Matt confessed as he removed his earbuds. "So, Ruby Island," he said. Amy could guess what was to follow. "Don't you think that it’s a little pretentious?" Matt asked.
"Not for an international celebrity," Amy retorted. She looked over at Matt and said, "Marlon Brando."
"Sure," Matt chuckled. The stewardess stopped at their row and offered champagne. "Admit it. Aren't you glad you’re up here in first class?"
Amy nodded.
"We can get to know each other a little better."
Amy was not immune to his charms and she smiled, but she didn't need to get to know him any better. She would be forced to take a smaller airplane out of Miami and then a thirty-minute boat ride with him as it was.
"Like we didn't learn everything we needed to know already in the frozen tundra of Northern Alaska.”
"The good old days," Matt said with a smile. Then he took a long look at Amy. "Are you wearing lipstick?" he asked incredulously as he leaned forward to get a better look before she could turn fully away. He waited a beat for her to get defensive and then cut her retort off. "You don't need it, Reynolds. Really, why start now? Unless..."
"Oh stop," she told him.
"Are you dressing it up for Bill Ruby?"
She didn't justify his remark with a response. She had put lip gloss on this morning for some odd reason, but it wasn't for international movie star Bill Ruby.
"Did you pack your bathing suit, Reynolds? We're shooting on a tropical island, and I bet that the sand on that beach is so soft and warm..."
"No." She rolled her eyes in his face but turned her head toward the aisle to hide her blush, pulling the airline magazine out of the seat-back-pocket. She pretended to be interested in an article to let the heat on her face subside.
Matt was newly engaged, although she'd heard that he still lived alone. Still, she shouldn't be putting lip gloss on for him, and she felt a little ashamed when she realized that is what she had done.
"What’ya reading?" His arm was on her armrest as he tried to see the magazine. She didn't answer so he leaned in
closer.
"Did you not hear me?" he asked. She tucked her hair behind her ear and gave him a look. "Because I thought you might not have heard me since you have no earlobes." He smiled wide again knowing that this would get her going.
"I have earlobes!”
"No you don't. See, your ear comes around and just goes straight into your head with no dangling lobe."
Amy self-consciously tugged on the small hoop earrings in her ear. "I have ear lobes!" she protested.
"No. I have earlobes," he flicked at his lobe. "And he has lobes." Amy had a vision of Matt grabbing a passenger's ear, but he didn't. He merely pointed at the earlobe between the seats. Amy touched hers again.
"Maybe you are both men and your heads are bigger, so your ears are bigger, and it's really an illusion." Amy closed her magazine now, satisfied with her explanation but knowing Matt would not leave the conversation alone.
"Maybe we are both men?"
They continued like this for the better part of an hour: Amy with nowhere to run, and Matt enjoying his prey.
When there were no points left to make on Amy's earlobes nor Matt's manhood, he asked the stewardess for a refill which he promptly spilled on the side of Amy's seat. She was fully annoyed.
"Jeeze!" She licked her wet hand and wiped it on her pants. He took an old-fashioned handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed at her pants where the champagne splattered, and Amy felt her pulse rise. They had spent the better part of two years working on the same projects, but they rarely touched.
"I'm sorry," he said sincerely. Amy said nothing to let him off the hook only because she didn't know if she could talk in a normal tone until her pulse settled. Matt took this as a slight. "Oh, I forgot, no one gets to apologize to you. You really need to get over your only child complex, Reynolds."
This caught her attention, and she looked at him, eyes wide, clearly annoyed, but glad to be past the feeling of self-conscious embarrassment. His smile loosened her up.
The elderly lady who sat across the aisle from Amy leaned over and smiled gently. "How long have you been married? Are you on your honeymoon now?"
"We aren't married," Matt laughed.
"We aren't even dating," Amy added, and then wished she hadn't.
"We’re business associates," Matt explained.
"He is engaged," Amy clarified and then leaned over to the gray-haired woman, "to someone else." Why she could not just shut her mouth, she didn't know.
"Oh, well, that's a shame," the old lady added, and then turned back to her magazine.
Matt pulled out his laptop. "I started writing the piece already, and I want you to take a look at it," Matt said as he opened the file and turned the laptop toward Amy.
"You can't work on the piece until you actually do the interview, Matt."
"I can outline it on past interviews."
"You have never interviewed him before." Amy raised her eyebrows. She had actually gotten Matt this assignment, although he didn't know it. She didn't do it to spend the day with him, but to further his career. Not that he needed her help since he was engaged to the boss’ daughter.
Matt had interviewed plenty of mid-level celebrities, but Bill Ruby was a worldwide movie star who had stopped giving one-on-one interviews three years earlier. Bill had agreed to this interview because he liked Amy, and she had gotten Matt assigned. She couldn't allow Matt to do some sort of backhanded interview that didn't show Bill for who he was, and there was no past interview that was worth basing the unwritten article on.
"I've read everything on him, Reynolds, and I've watched footage too."
"You're not serious, are you?" Amy was mortified that she had done the wrong thing by getting Matt the interview. Bill Ruby had stopped giving personal interviews because of the tabloids and the rumors and the speculation. He had been forced into living very privately, and he was doing Amy a favor.
"He said I had carte blanche. I can ask him whatever I want." Matt smiled and looked into her eyes. Amy blushed and moved her face closer to the computer screen.
"So what, you are going to ask him about the strippers and his ex-wife?" Amy pointed at the screen.
"Ex-wives," Matt corrected.
Amy grunted and pushed the laptop away.
"What? I'm just asking what people want to know." Matt shrugged and Amy grunted again. "You've photographed him before, right? Help me out here."
"Yes, I photographed him before," Amy said sarcastically and then paused, taking a deep breath. Matt didn't need to know that she had gotten him this interview, and he didn't need to know that she and Bill were close friends of sorts. They weren't best friends, and they didn't hang out much. Bill Ruby didn't really "hang out" per se. He might call your editor and say that he needed you to go on his private jet to Vienna for the weekend to get the proper image he was trying to convey. He might request you for a shoot one month later and then move the session from New York City to Paris at the last minute, insisting that the crew take his jet for expedience. And he might flood your office with exotic flowers no one had ever seen on the American continent before.
Bill wasn't impetuous, but if he liked a girl, he did tend to go full court press. Having more money than a mid-sized country could do that to a guy. But he was never indecent, always gentlemanly, and although Amy was somewhat insane for not being interested, he had invited her to his island several times before. Amy had loved the trips, always lying to her mother about where and with whom she was going. The island was a place that no prying eyes got into, so Amy's time there was not documented by the press like every other corner of Bill’s life had been since he’d become famous.
Bill didn't take rejection well, but Amy was a behind-the-camera kind of girl. She loved to take photos, but she had no intention of being in them, and a life with Bill Ruby would be well documented for the masses. They had dated, and she had attended red carpet premieres and a couple of awards shows with Bill, but as hard as she tried, the spark just didn’t stay lit for Amy.
"Matt, I have actually photographed him several times, and if you come at him from this angle, you’ll get nothing from him." Amy was being sincere for both men's sakes. As she read the nonsense of Matt’s first paragraph, she remembered that Matt never did research in advance so he was just messing with her again.
"So you are suggesting..." he let his words trail off so she could finish the thought, and she wanted to strangle Matt right now. She felt bad for him because he had hit the point in his career when he was too worried about what everyone else thought, and it had caused writer's block. Amy had gone through a similar period early on, but Charley had gotten her through it, and he had taught her to trust her own eye.
"Tell me that you are more than a pretty face," she said and stood to use the restroom.
"You think I have a pretty face?" he asked with his most devastatingly handsome smile.
"You're a writer, Matt. Interview and then write, unbiased." Amy felt herself getting irritated with him.
"I am unbiased," he called after her.
"So how's the book coming?" Amy asked over her shoulder. She knew Matt had been writing a novel for years and could never seem to finish a first draft. She also knew that when she mentioned the book, she struck a nerve, and he wouldn't ask her opinion for the rest of the flight.
Chapter 3
The flight aboard the small charter from Eleuthera Island to Ruby Island should have taken thirty minutes. It took Amy Reynolds and Matt Cole thirteen years. They took the hopper from Miami to North Eleuthera Airport in the Bahamas, and from there they were to take a boat to Ruby Island. It was sweltering when they landed, and Amy was ready for the boat to spray a mist of water on her to cool her down. Amy walked toward the waiting car that sat on the edge of the tarmac and looked for Matt, but he wasn't with her.
"You’re joking," she called to Matt as he waved to her across the small tarmac. He was standing next to a tiny two propeller, island-hopping aircraft.
"You read your itinerary, right?" s
he called.
"It's just like the one in the Arctic, only with wheels," Matt yelled back.
"You call yourself a journalist?" she asked. "No one flies to Ruby Island." She turned her back and tossed her bag into the car.
Amy waited a few minutes and then got out of the air-conditioned car and walked across the sweltering cement as Matt appreciated the aged machine.
"Matt, Ruby Island is in the Bermuda Triangle, and no one flies there."
He took another look at the small aircraft. "It'll be fine, Reynolds. Do you forget that I'm a pilot?"
Amy hadn't forgotten that tidbit, but she didn't comment. She returned to the car and checked her email while Matt walked around the aircraft and then back toward the terminal.
Amy used her phone to check her hair. She was on the last leg of the trip, and she was getting a little nervous to see Bill again. She asked herself what there was to be nervous about since they had parted good friends. She had spent some time on the island, and she was comfortable there. She put her phone away and realized that it was Matt's presence making her nervous.
She watched Matt and a man wearing a greasy jumpsuit return to the small propeller airplane.
"What's the holdup?" Amy yelled out the window. "We have this car waiting."
The man turned to talk to Matt and Amy got out of the car. Amy couldn't hear what they were talking about, but the man's arms started moving fast and she could tell he was getting upset. Matt pulled his wallet from his pocket and gave the man a credit card. The man snatched it and turned to walk away, his hand waving the card back and forth in the air.
Matt had a huge smile on his face when he opened the door and stowed his bag in the back seat and then waved to Amy. She was irritated and grabbed her gig bag from the car and walked back toward Matt.
"Reynolds, you take the boat, but I don't have all day."
She threw up her arms ready to argue, but then Matt balked like a chicken and she couldn't ignore him. When they were stuck with the Inuits in Northern Alaska, they were offered whale skin to eat and Amy had tried it, but when Matt declined, Amy clucked like a chicken and the challenge was on.
Ruby Island Page 2