Sun, Sea and Sangria

by Victoria Cooke

  I ponder this and it makes sense. ‘I wish I’d have talked to you before I sent him off to another continent.’

  ‘There’s not much you can do about him now, but there are plenty more fish in the sea, love.’

  Chapter 35

  Andrea was great about giving me flexible hours so I could spend time with my parents. They left yesterday and I think our relationship is stronger than it’s been in over a decade. Now they’ve gone, the desperate feeling of losing everyone around me has hit me again with a vengeance and Andrea has made it her duty to cheer me up.

  ‘Okay, I have Sex on the Beach, I have potato chips, the iPad is charged – let’s do this.’ Andrea insisted on having a Heavenly Hunk debut screening in her boxy little office at the bar. She said she was desperate to see how Brad has ruined my legacy, but I know she’s just ripping off the plaster, making me get the first viewing over and done with in a calm, controlled environment. I think that she thinks it will make things easier in the end. Part of me can’t bear to watch, but another small part of me is dying to see the guys in all their glory and my stomach flutters with excitement.

  ‘I’ll take one of those,’ I say, reaching over for one of the cocktails whilst Andrea fiddles with her iPad. The show was hours ago, but I wasn’t getting up at ridiculous o’clock to watch it live.

  ‘Here we go,’ she says, propping the iPad up in a stand on her desk.

  The lighting is intense, like on Britain’s Got Talent or The X Factor. That Jenny Grant woman comes on stage. She makes a few innuendos, which the crowd seem to love, and then she introduces the Heavenly Hunks. Then the music kicks in and the boys storm the ginormous stage. The music and dry ice that we used here are still the same, just on a much bigger scale. Hugo’s replacement is some incredibly hot, dark-haired stack of a guy. I wonder if they all get along.

  The routine so far is pretty much unchanged, which comes as a relief to me. It just looks bigger and better on the huge stage, and the expensive lighting gives it a top-class appearance. I’m watching, and I’m actually doing okay. I like that Brad and Jenny have stayed true to our act and ‘new Hugo’ can even play the piano. I’m doing so well I could cry.

  Then, the camera zooms in on Jay. It’s close enough I can see the depth of his chestnut eyes. I can see the skin of his torso that my hand has felt every ripple of and his tattoo is just visible on his inner bicep. I can almost smell his soft brown hair, and as he uses his large hands to press his body into the floor, I can practically feel them on me. Then a stronger feeling takes over. A monkey wrench yanking and turning my stomach over.

  ‘I’m sorry, Andrea, I can’t do this.’

  I leave, walking as fast as I can back towards my apartment. When I arrive, I throw myself on the bed and let the tears that I’d barricaded in for the entire walk home stream out.

  My pillow is damp. I’m empty. I stopped crying an hour ago, but still, I can’t get my brain to function in any sort of rational way. I don’t know what’s the matter with me. Seeing Jay physically hurt and yet I feel compelled to watch the video again. I take my phone off the side and search for the video. When it pops up, I don’t hesitate in hitting play. I don’t know how many times I watch it, but somehow I end up searching #HeavenlyHunks on Instagram. It brings up hundreds of images that audience members have taken. I scroll through them, enjoying the comfort seeing them brings. Every time I spot Jay, I get the familiar pain in my stomach, but I still stare at him for too long.

  Chapter 36

  A few days ago, Paul sent me a message to say the Heavenly Hunks had been invited onto The Celia O’Donnell Show. I snuggle into my duvet and prop up my iPad.

  The show’s theme tune kicks in and Celia walks onto the set waving to the audience. I sit up straighter in bed and hold my iPad closer.

  ‘Ladies … and some gentlemen, have we got a treat for you this evening. Think hot, naked men. Think silky-smooth torsos and moves to make your dear granny blush. They’ve completely sold out of tickets for the next six months and women are offering to sell their own mothers just to get a seat. They are the hottest act sweeping Las Vegas right now. Brace yourselves, because tonight we welcome none other than the Heavenly Hunks!’

  The audience erupts in applause. There’s cheering, and from certain camera angles, I can see that some people have even stood up. I’m still in awe of how the Hunks have made such an impression on America in such a short space of time. As the boys walk onto the set, my heart stops.

  They look so well. Dressed in different variations of jeans and T-shirts, they all look effortlessly gorgeous. Jay’s hair is a little longer; it’s ruffled messily and a piece falls into his eyes. I have to look at someone else. It’s easy to see why the crowd are so excited. They’ve not even spoken yet and I’m already gnawing my nails like a rabbit with a carrot.

  ‘Hello, and welcome,’ Celia says as the guys squeeze onto the adjacent sofa. ‘So, you guys must have the women falling at your feet?’ She fans herself dramatically. My Hunks laugh awkwardly while new Hugo looks towards his feet comically. Ant scratches the back of his neck, which has subtle red blotches emerging, and Paul hasn’t been able to make eye contact with the host yet. It makes me smile because they used to be like that around me in the early days. It’s a moment before I can bring myself to look back at Jay. The familiarity of his features makes my stomach twist.

  ‘I guess there have been a few admirers,’ Marcus says sheepishly.

  ‘Just a few, huh? What do you say, audience members: do they have a few admirers in the room tonight?’ Glass-shattering ‘woos’ that only dogs should be able to hear ensue.

  ‘Okay, okay, let’s get serious. You guys seem to have come from nowhere and taken Vegas by storm. What’s your story? How did the Heavenly Hunks come about?’

  ‘It was actually a lady from the UK called Kat who brought us all together,’ Marcus says. I sit up straighter when I hear my name. The boys go on to tell brief stories of how they came to be in Tenerife and how the Hunks began. My thermostat seems to kick in and eye-pricking warmth floods me.

  When Celia announces that they’re going to show a clip of their Vegas show, I realise my eyes are dry and sore from not blinking. Just as the clip starts, my phone rings.

  I exhale impatiently when I see the name on the screen. ‘Andrea, what’s up?’

  ‘What’s up with me? What’s up with you, more like? You’re late!’

  ‘What?’ I check the time. I should have been there an hour ago. ‘Bugger. I’m so sorry, Andri. I’ll be there right away.’

  ‘Kat, is everything okay?’

  ‘Yes, I was just watching the Hunks on The Celia O’Donnell Show and lost track of time. I’m so sorry, I’ll make my hours up.’

  ‘I’ll see you when you get in.’ She hangs up the phone and I reluctantly lock the screen on my iPad.

  ‘I’ll see you boys later,’ I whisper.

  When I arrive at the bar, Andrea is sitting at a table with a pair of glasses perched on the end of her nose, mulling over some paperwork.

  ‘Hi,’ I say guiltily.

  ‘Kat, sit down. Please.’ She gestures to the chair opposite and my chest sinks. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her so serious before and I’m ashamed of myself for letting her down. If one of the Hunks had been late for a rehearsal or show, I’d have been livid.

  ‘Andrea, I’m not taking liberties, I promise. It was an accident and I’ll be more careful.’

  ‘Kat, look around. The bar is empty, so your lateness has actually saved me money.’

  Oh, she doesn’t need me. I close my eyes, bracing myself. She’s going to let me go.

  ‘I’m worried about you.’

  My eyes open with a start. That wasn’t what I expected.

  ‘This obsession with the Hunks isn’t healthy. You need to move on.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘I’m talking about spending all of your free time online, on their Instagram page, their Twitter feed, their websit
e, their YouTube channel—’

  ‘All right, all right. I get what you’re trying to say but you have it wrong. Of course, I’m interested in their careers. I helped build them.’

  ‘You’re not interested, you’re obsessed. This isn’t the first time you’ve been late because you’ve been glued to some show they’re on, and you spend every spare minute you have looking at your phone.’

  I make a noise of exasperated frustration.

  ‘Kat, you’re living and breathing your past. It’s not healthy and it’s sure as hell not moving on. You don’t even look like you’ve showered.’

  Words jumble and jam in my mouth so I shake my head.

  ‘When was the last time you went out and did something fun?’

  ‘I—’ I deflate. ‘I can’t remember.’

  ‘Take the day off and go to the beach. It’s warm enough to lie there and read a book. There are some in my office that tourists have left behind. Go and choose one and relax … away from your screens.’

  ‘Are you sure you don’t need me?’

  ‘The place is dead. Go!’

  I nod and head into her office. There’s a shelf full of bestsellers from over the years: a faded copy of The Da Vinci Code, a well-thumbed Fifty Shades of Grey, a dog-eared Big Little Lies. I settle on a yellowing copy of Me Before You. I haven’t read it or seen the film but, as is always the case with popular books, I know how it ends and it’ll suit my mood.

  ‘Got one.’ I wave the book at Andrea.

  ‘Okay. Enjoy your day and I’ll see you for your shift tonight.’

  I almost go straight to the beach, but I don’t have a towel or anything to lie on, so instead, I do something I never do. I head into a little bar overlooking the beach and order myself a small jug of sangria – I’ll have a drink, go home, get a towel, and then go to the beach. Andrea has every right to be frustrated with me. She was kind enough to give me a job and I haven’t even had the decency to try. We both know my heart isn’t in it. The beachfront is quiet today. The only people I see walking by are older couples. They all have something in common; they all seem content. They’re not chasing their pasts or futures, they’re happy in their now. I suppose for years I’ve sort of been suspended in a bubble. I thought I was happy but perhaps I was just too busy to feel sad, and it felt like happiness. The closest I’ve come to true happiness recently, that wasn’t work-related, was my time with Jay.

  I have an idea. If I’m going to be content in my now, I need to do something I enjoy. I take out my phone and dial Gaël, the manager at the Grand Canarian. He answers almost straight away.

  ‘Kat?’

  ‘Hi, Gaël. Listen, this is a bit out of the blue, but I wondered whether your offer of being an entertainment manager still stood?’

  He pauses and my stomach twists. Oh God, I bet he was just being polite. ‘I think you’re great at organising acts, Kat. The only problem is, we are still quiet. I could offer you a few hours though. I’m currently running around like a headless chicken trying to sort out guest services, bar staff and our pool refurbishment.’

  Excitement jolts me. ‘That would be fantastic.’ I still have some of my sale money left but it won’t last long and I’m not earning much at Andrea’s bar anyway. Maybe I could do both jobs.

  When I’ve finished my sangria, I head home. My iPad is on the bed where I left it. The sight of it catches me by surprise, which is silly since I left it there and I was hardly expecting burglars. I could just watch the end of The Celia O’Donnell Show and then go to the beach, couldn’t I?

  Before I know what I’m doing, I’m back in bed, snuggled under the blankets, watching the clip of the Heavenly Hunks show in Vegas. I smile at the moves I recognise and get a warm feeling of nostalgia when it includes a snippet of Marcus singing in his smooth caramel voice. When it ends, the studio cameras cut back in and the audience are going crazy.

  ‘Woo.’ Celia fans herself once more. ‘I’m beginning to see why this show has sold out now.’

  They talk in more detail about the schedule and the ‘amazing things’ Brad and Jenny have done. My stomach clenches and I have to tell myself that bigging up their managers on TV is probably in their contracts.

  ‘Well, you’ve really been an overnight sensation.’ Celia draws that particular part of the chatter to a close and I love her for it. ‘But what I’m sure our audience members really want to know is who are the Heavenly Hunks?

  ‘We thought we’d have a little fun with you and play a game of truth or dare.’ She raises her eyebrows comically at the camera. ‘Now, I can’t remember all of your names so I’m going to go along from left to right. Starting with you.’

  The camera pans in on Ant.

  ‘Truth or dare, young man? Give me your name and your choice.’

  ‘I’m Ant, and I’ll take a dare.’ He flashes a wicked grin and the audience cheers.

  Celia glances at the crowd. ‘Okay, I think I know what they want. Ant, it says here that you’re a classically trained ballet dancer. I mean, that in itself is amazing, but you’ve combined that with erotic dancing. I think we have to see this. I dare you to show us some erotic ballet.’

  Ant walks to a carpeted area behind Celia’s sofa and, to everyone’s amusement, Taylor Swift’s ‘Shake It Off’ begins to play.

  ‘We thought we’d mix it up a little,’ Celia says with a wink.

  I watch as Ant makes tiny, rhythmic movements with his body as he gets in sync with the tempo. He takes his T-shirt off (much to the audience’s delight) and throws it to a charmed Celia. Then he’s ready, throwing himself into fast spins, press-ups and groin pumps. The whole sequence is fast, fluid, and perfectly in time to the music. The camera takes in Celia and the other dancers who’re clapping along in the background. The audience goes wild and he plays on this by lunging into a mid-air front split.

  To finish, Ant blows kisses to a wolf-whistling audience and takes a bow as Celia joins him on the carpet. ‘Take it all,’ she says, stuffing green bills in the waistband of his jeans.

  When Ant takes his seat back on the sofa, his smile spreads from ear to ear.

  ‘I’ve lost the ability to speak,’ Celia says, causing an eruption of laughter. ‘Okay, we have time for one more and believe me, if CSI Miami could wait, I’d extend the show. Next hot guy along, what’s your name and do you want truth or dare?’

  I swallow hard. Jay is the next hot guy along.

  ‘I will take truth,’ he says. It surprises me and I don’t know why.

  ‘Okay, strippers get a bad reputation. I want to know if it’s true. Do you live up to that womanising stereotype?’

  ‘Wow.’ He laughs nervously. ‘Okay. Well, I get it and there is a lot of female attention that comes our way, but no, I’m a professional and I don’t mix work with my private life.’

  ‘Tell us more about your private life. Are you in a relationship?’ Celia pries.

  ‘I’d never really thought about settling down, but back in Tenerife I did meet someone special who I saw a future with.’

  There’s a chorus of ‘awws’ from the audience.

  ‘Wait a minute. Who is this girl and where do I find her to beat her up?’ Celia jokes.

  Jay laughs nervously. ‘She wouldn’t want me to say.’

  ‘Did you love her?’ Celia is like a dog with a bone.

  Jay’s presses his lips together tightly. I can feel how awkward this is for him but I don’t care, I want to know.

  ‘Yes,’ he says, eventually.

  ‘Oh my goodness. So what are you doing in Las Vegas talking to me when the girl you love is on an island in the Atlantic?

  ‘It wasn’t the right time for us. She wasn’t ready to settle down so we parted ways.’

  ‘Ladies, we have a devastated Hunk on our sofa. Who wants to comfort him?’ Celia teeters over to him on her heels and hugs him comically in a ‘there, there’ sort of way as the crowd screams. Jay squirms uncomfortably.

  ‘Who would do that to such a fine spec
imen?’ Celia shakes her head playfully. ‘Well, there you go, ladies, there’s a heartbroken Hunk on the market and all you need to do is get yourselves to Las Vegas to go cheer him up.’ The camera closes in on Jay’s face. There’s a look of shy discomfort at the attention, but above the watery smile, his eyes hold something that I can’t put my finger on but that resonates with something inside me. I want to reach into my iPad and hug him.

  ‘Okay, we’re almost out of time.’ Celia finishes by thanking the guys and wishing them luck.

  I don’t know how long I’ve been staring at the iPad for, but when I come to, the screen is black and it’s locked itself. Jay has been away for weeks now and he’s still thinking about what we had. He said he loved me. I must have meant something more to him than I ever imagined. Without reason, I considered him the same as every other man I’ve ever been close to. He didn’t deserve that. My mum said a partner needs to be able to listen and Jay listened to me so much. I have a crushing feeling that I’ve made a terrible mistake writing us off like that. I’m an idiot.

  ‘What have I done?’ I whisper.

  Chapter 37

  ‘Your hair is still unwashed, yet sand-free, and you’re wearing the same clothes as you were this morning. You didn’t go to the beach!’ Andrea’s eyes narrow on me the second I walk into the bar.

  ‘At least I’m on time,’ I say with false cheer.

  ‘Oh, Kat, were you on the internet again?’ Her soft tone does nothing to comfort me; instead, it ignites bubbling frustration. I pause before answering, as I don’t want to snap or sound defensive.

  ‘No, actually, I wasn’t.’ Not the whole time at least. ‘I got my life in order instead.’

  A look of relief washes over her. ‘Tell me more.’

  ‘You’re right. I’ve been miserable and that’s partly because I’m pining for the boys but I’m also stuck in a rut and not doing anything to help myself. After having a good think, I called Gaël and I’m now his entertainment manager at the Tenerife Grand!’