Blissful Tragedy

by Amy L. Gale

  1. I’m sorry. I screwed up.

  2. I didn’t mean it. It just happened.

  3. Please talk to me, we can work this out.

  4. It was a one-time mistake and meant nothing.

  5. This was the first time it happened. I had a moment of weakness.

  6. I drank way too much and didn’t know what I was doing.

  7. She followed me to my room and wouldn’t leave.

  8. I never slept with her.

  9. I really screwed up and want to fix this.

  10. I love you. Forgive me.

  I suck in a deep breath. Jesse’s texts are basically a list of worthless excuses. Nothing he can say will erase the image I now have burned into my brain. There’s no way I can ever forgive him. Our relationship is over. I exhale and clutch my stomach as my body begins to crumble on itself.

  What am I thinking? Whatever this thing is with Van Sinclair is sure to be a disaster. Am I a glutton for punishment? I’m pretty sure walking in on a rocker doing God knows what with a groupie is a daily occurrence. Once is enough for me. I need to focus on my career anyway, and stay away from guys. Ugh, why can’t I get Van off my mind?

  Keys clink against my countertop and footsteps tap along the tiles of the floor.

  Sydney takes a sip from her water bottle. “Good morning. Are you ready for the wedding planning extravaganza?”

  I quickly wipe my eyes. “I’m so excited about it I couldn’t sleep.”

  Sydney smirks. “Since you’re so enthusiastic, we’ll start with your maid of honor dress. We have an eight-thirty appointment at the Bridal Boutique.” She raises her eyebrows. “Are you ok?”

  I sigh. “Yeah, just some issues with Jesse.”

  She puts her purse on the counter and turns toward me. “I didn’t want to bring it up at your graduation but I’m curious. Why did you guys break up? He didn’t even come over to say hello to us.”

  “He cheated on me at the last Beta Omega party.”

  Sydney covers her mouth with her hand then lets it drop away. “Want me to kick his ass?”

  Sydney is an amazing sister. She always has my back and there’s no doubt she would tear Jesse a new one if I said the word. In sixth grade, when the ‘cool girls’ made fun of me for having braces, Sydney walked right up to Taylor Morgan and gave her a bloody nose.

  I shake my head. “Screw him; he’s not going to ruin our day. Let’s start the festivities.”

  We drive into the city and pull over at an elegant Victorian building. There are ceiling to floor windows which showcase gorgeous bridal gowns. Sydney purchased her dress in a swanky Philadelphia boutique. When my time comes, I will prefer a shop like this one.

  We walk inside and are greeted by a smiling woman, her face beaming brighter than her fiery red hair.

  “Hello girls, welcome to Bridal Boutique. Please feel free to look around and let me know if you need anything.”

  “Thank you. We’re looking for a maid of honor dress,” Sydney replies.

  “Right this way. My name is Anna. Holler if you need anything else.”

  We follow Anna to a wall of dresses, in an assortment of colors and styles.

  I take a step back. “Sydney, you’re the bride. I’m at your mercy.”

  “I’m thinking we should go with a light-weight material like chiffon since it’s an outdoor ceremony. It can still be really warm on Labor Day weekend.” Sydney explains as she looks through the racks of dresses. She stops. “This is perfect, go try it on!”

  I take the dress and make my way into the fitting room. I’m a vision in peach chiffon! I run my hand along the cascading ruffle down the side. She’s right. This dress is perfect. It fits like a glove and I look beautiful in it. I step out of the dressing room to get her opinion.

  Sydney squeals. “You look fabulous! All we need are some silver strappy heels. Anna, we’ll take it!”

  Dress shopping was a breeze; hopefully the rest of the day flows just as smoothly.

  Sydney is in a complete state of bridal bliss. Her sparkling hazel eyes gleam and she almost bounces when she walks. “I thought it would take hours to find the perfect dress. You must be my good luck charm.”

  “I think it’s more like the other way around, Sis.” I put my arm around her and give her a quick squeeze. If anyone deserves complete happiness, it’s Sydney.

  My pocket chimes. I pull out my cell phone and take a deep breath. My hand trembles as my eyes gaze over the bright letters on the screen. I try to relax my raising cheekbones as I read the text from Van Sinclair. It’ a picture of the ocean.

  My heart flutters as I text back.

  Looks like you made some beach time.

  My phone chimes.

  I thought you’d like to see the ocean too. How’s slavery?

  I bite my cheeks. Sydney wouldn’t be amused by my new title of wedding planning slave.

  It’s actually pretty fun. We got a lot done and are heading home after lunch. I type and press send.

  I’m headed to the beach bar and grill. Our show’s tomorrow night. Tonight’s all about relaxing.

  Is he deliberately trying to make me jealous? If he is, it’s certainly working. I type quickly as Sydney walks toward me.

  Wow, I’m jealous. Enjoy your free day. TTYL

  “Who are you texting?” she asks, “You usually don’t even remember to bring your phone.”

  I twirl my hair around my fingers and slide my phone back into my pocket. “Brooke. She’s just letting me know I shouldn’t wait up for her.” I’m not ready to tell anyone about Van. I’ve only talked to him a few times and still don’t know where any of this is going. If it develops into something, I’ll tell everyone. Until then, it’s my secret.

  “She should’ve just left you a note. She’s lucky you even got the text.”

  “I guess it was last minute,” I lie again. “So, where we going for lunch?”

  “How about Zena’s Bistro? They have great Panini,” she boasts.

  We really worked up an appetite with all of our wedding planning. We inhale our grilled chicken sandwiches in minutes and head back to my apartment.

  “Thanks for lunch, Sydney. I had a great time with you today.”

  Sydney leans her head against the headrest of the car. “We got so much done. I’m so relieved. I finally feel like I’m ready for this wedding. Well, I have to head back to Philadelphia after I drop you off. Next, Bryce and I have to agree on the cake.”

  “I’m sure he won’t mind all the tasty sampling that goes into that decision. Just think, in a few more days we’ll be back in Cherry Falls attending the shower of the year.” I smile. “I can’t wait to see all of Mom’s planning come together.”

  “No doubt it will be over the top,” Sydney says as she hugs me. “Thanks again for the help today. I’ll see you next week.”

  I yawn and rub my eyes as I walk through the driveway. The lack of sleep is starting to catch up with me. On the way up the steps I notice a package on my porch. It’s addressed to me but has no return address. That’s strange. I place it on the kitchen table and search the junk drawer for scissors. Please don’t let it be another lame present from Jesse.

  My mouth falls open as I peel back the stiff cardboard. I blink repeatedly, trying to focus my tired eyes. Inside is a concert ticket to see Devil’s Garden tomorrow night at Bader Field, a backstage pass with a note that reads, ‘Your second backstage experience will destroy your first one’, and a postcard from the Sea Star Hotel in Atlantic City.

  My heart starts racing again. I grab my phone and do something I never dreamed I’d do. I dial Van Sinclair’s number.

  “Hey,” he answers.

  I fidget with my fingers. “Hi. After serving my slavery sentence I found an interesting package at my door.”

  “Really? I can’t imagine what it could be.”

  I bite my lip. “Well, it’s kind of cryptic. Maybe it’s from some psychotic serial killer.”

  “You need to watch out for those craz
y bastards that go around killing cereal.” He laughs. “You said you love the ocean. I’m hoping you’ll want to come to the show and spend some beach time with me. I need someone to show me the ropes, or should I say the waves.”

  My heart literally skips a beat. Van wants me to stay with him, at the beach, in a hotel? The butterflies in my stomach flutter frantically. I know exactly what will be happening if Van and I share a hotel room. What should I do? I really want to see him again, but musicians aren’t known to be the most faithful people. Who am I kidding? He may only want me for one night.

  I pace around the room. Oh, but I meet with Owen Jenkins tomorrow morning. Well, there’s really not much I can do to prepare for my new position yet. I certainly can use some fun, and I’m sure nothing will evolve from this anyway. I pull out a kitchen chair and sit. Ah, a slumber party with Van Sinclair. My whole body trembles and tingles. I’m breathless as heat radiates through my chest. I take a deep breath and swallow hard to relieve the dryness in my mouth; I try to act clever.

  “Should I pack life jackets?”

  He chuckles. “I think they provide that stuff here.”

  I twirl my hair around my fingers. “Ok, I have a meeting with my new boss tomorrow morning. I’ll leave in the afternoon so I should be there around four o’clock.”

  “I booked a room at the Sea Star Hotel. It doesn’t have a casino so we won’t have to deal with any drunken gamblers,” he says. “I have to go to meet everyone at Bader Field now but I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “See you tomorrow,” I reply.

  Did I forget to breathe again? I let my dizzy head fall back and slink into the chair. Oh no, did I dream this up in a sleep-deprived daydream? I look over at the box on the table and pinch myself just to make sure. Ouch, yep this is for real.

  CHAPTER 3—BEACH

  Pure exhaustion finally allows me to shut my mind down and get some quality sleep. The alarm rings at 9:15 a.m. for my 10:30 meeting at Global Inc. I stretch and press the snooze button. Why do they want to meet with me now? Eh, there’s probably some agenda. Besides, I’m lucky that I managed to obtain the assistant to the senior account manager position, a rarity for new graduates. Too bad it’s not open until the end of the summer and I won’t be starting until September.

  I yawn and muster up enough energy to get myself out of bed and start my grooming ritual. Now what’s my most professional outfit? I put on my gray business suit and pull my hair into a sophisticated ponytail. Truth be told, I’m more prepared for my meeting with my new boss this morning than I am for tonight.

  ∞

  I pull into a huge parking garage and stare at the enormous building. I take a deep breath and look around at the endless sea of parking spaces. I’ll just be another number in this vast corporation.

  I sign in at the front desk and wait to be called. The reception area is large and filled with people hustling toward the elevators. The marble tile is exquisite and the wall to wall windows don’t contain even one fingerprint. The soft music mimics that of a fancy hotel. Hmm, what will I need to pack for my overnight excursion?

  My head jerks back slightly as I’m pulled out of my daydream and greeted by a handsome man in a dark gray suit.

  “Hello Alexis, my name is Owen Jenkins and I will be supervising the advertising and marketing division for Global Inc.”

  I stare at him like a deer in headlights. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Jenkins.” Our eyes break contact and I fidget with my fingers.

  He holds out his hand. “Please, call me Owen.”

  I shake his hand, trying to keep a firm grip. Can he be any more intimidating? Owen Jenkins exudes the air of a man who’s successful in all endeavors. Every strand of his thick brown hair is perfectly in place. In his late thirties, he’s handsome and clearly rich. The subtle musk of expensive cologne trails him as he walks.

  He adjusts the sleeve of his Versace business suit, showing off his silver Rolex watch. “Alexis, I called you in for a meeting to introduce myself, give you a tour of the facility, and let you know a little about our company. We will have one more meeting in August to finalize our goals and expectations.”

  “Thank you, I’m eager to learn the ins and outs of the advertising world.”

  Owen takes me on a tour of the mammoth building where I’ll soon work. It’s a safe bet that I won’t remember half of what I’m being shown. He educates me about the various companies that Global Inc. represents and then outlines my job description. From what he explains, I’ll be reading over business proposals and fetching coffee for department heads. Those tasks are fine with me. It’s better than starting in the mailroom which is where most new graduates end up.

  “I hope I’ve answered some of your questions, Alexis. I enjoyed meeting you. We will get together again in August, until then enjoy your summer.”

  “Thank you very much. I look forward to working with you.”

  The meeting takes longer than I expect. I rush home to start packing. Even though I’m only staying overnight, it’s a crucial night that may decide what the future holds. Who knows?

  Umm, should I even be thinking about a future with a rocker? He certainly doesn’t have the most stable career. Sure, he’s the essence of physical perfection but that only brings heartache. Especially with the droves of women that chase him after every show. I cover my face with my hands and shake my head. Here I go, overanalyzing everything again. I need to clear my mind and live it up! I pull a duffel bag out of the closet.

  I check Brooke’s room. She must still be with Dean. Looks like I don’t have anyone to help me decide what I should take. I find a purple mini dress that’ll be perfect for the concert. Ok, my black knee-high boots, and a long crystal beaded necklace knotted in the middle should finish the look. Now the all-important question of which underwear to choose. I find a sexy black lace bra and bikini panties that I bought from Victoria’s Secret a few weeks ago but never got the chance to wear. Perfect!

  I throw shorts and a tank top in my bag for the next day along with a brush, toothbrush, deodorant, and make-up. That should cover it. I jump in the shower, paying close attention to grooming all of the areas Van may glimpse over. I continue with my grooming routine, trying to look my best. My hair falls down, letting my curls hit my shoulders and back. I fasten the front with a crystal embellished headband and apply light make-up concentrating on a smoky purple eye and red lips. I’m all ready, except I’m not ready at all.

  My heart races and I begin to hyperventilate. I haven’t been with anyone other than Jesse for two years. That ended up a disaster; I hope my sexual skills are up to par. To make matters worse, Van Sinclair is gorgeous, confident, and no doubt very experienced. I don’t even want to know how many women he has been with. There were at least fifty throwing themselves at him the night we met.

  I go into Brooke’s bedroom, open the nightstand drawer, and take out a sleeve of condoms. Even though I’ve been on the pill for years, I still want to protect myself. I have to get rid of this nervous energy before I get to Atlantic City. I must believe that Van has been texting and calling me because he wants to know me. He could easily have sex with much less effort if that was what he was after. I have to believe that he truly wants to be with me and there’s no doubt I want to be with him, no matter what I try to tell myself. He awakens every hibernating cell in my body. I smile as I think through all of our conversations and texts. My little self-pep talk boosts my confidence. I grab my overnight bag and head for the car. I’m on my way to Van Sinclair.

  It’s a three-hour car ride from my apartment to Atlantic City. I really don’t mind. The drive gives me some more time to think and convince myself that I’m the woman Van Sinclair wants. I begin to fidget and become more restless the closer I get to Atlantic City. My heart beats a little faster with every passing mile. I can’t wait to see Van again. Plus, this time we’ll be alone after the concert. I won’t be in a room filled with other woman trying to compete for his attention. He’ll be completel
y mine.

  I twirl my hair around my fingers as I pull into the hotel’s parking garage. Salty air and the cackle of seagulls greet me as I step outside. The hotel rests on the boardwalk and leads to a pristine white sandy beach. It’s reminiscent of the long-lost glamour that Atlantic City possessed in eras past. I walk into the enormous lobby and admire the crystal chandeliers and marble tiles. I text Van, letting him know I’d arrived and set my bag onto the floor.

  The elevator doors slowly open. My whole body erupts in goose bumps as the unique electricity flows through me. I glance down at the dark-blue ripped jeans that hang down on his hips just enough to flaunt his chiseled abs, and then focus my gaze to yet another tight black T-shirt that once again does not fail to show off just about every muscle in his perfect body. Wow! The fluttering in my stomach begins.

  He walks up to me, rubbing the back of his neck. “You look great! Thanks for driving all this way. I’m sorry, I should’ve gotten a ride for you.”

  “I didn’t mind the drive, it was relaxing,” I say, fidgeting with my necklace.

  He drops his arm. “So what do you think of the place?”

  “It’s absolutely beautiful.” I take a step back and glance around once more.

  Van lifts my bag with one hand and puts the other hand around my waist. Sparks flow through my body, drifting from my fingertips to my toes. I take a deep breath and try to steady my heartbeat.

  “Come on, I want to show you our room.” He guides me toward the elevator.

  I follow him like a moth to a flame. Is there hidden meaning in his comment?