Good Vibrations

by Elizabeth Parrish

  “I’m getting a bit hungry. Why don’t you come back to my boat for dinner and you can ask me anything you want. Are you game?” Sean inquired, his face expressionless as the offer hung in the air like a lure dangling in front of a famished fish.

  Sean’s offer seemed tempting from a distance but I was afraid that if I bit, I was the one that was going to get swallowed whole.

  After mentally mulling over the offer for as long as I dared, I gave a resigned sigh before I replied, “Okay, just dinner though, and I’m wearing a life jacket for protection from anything I might encounter on the water, ocean-dwelling or otherwise.”

  There are people who have money and people who are rich – Coco Chanel

  54. After a short drive to the marina, we arrived at the dock and it immediately became apparent that I wasn’t going to have to spend too much time worrying about falling overboard.

  Sean’s boat was closer to being a floating mansion than the sail boat I had been imagining.

  “This ship is amazing!” I exclaimed, as I peered inside in complete and utter awe.

  Sean’s expansive dining area was easly bigger than my condo, and it was evident that no expense had been spared in furnishing it.

  “Thanks, Natasha took the house in the divorce, but I didn’t really care. After going through this process with her, I have absolutely no intention of being tied down to any person or location, so this is perfect for me. I can tell the captain to leave tonight and we would be halfway to California by the morning,” Sean replied forcefully, handing me a glass of wine as we stared out at the stars twinkling above English Bay.

  What do we have here? Was that a glimmer of genuine emotion emanating from him? Up until now, I hadn’t even been sure that he was capable of that sort of thing.

  “That’s an interesting piece of information to trot out for a woman that you’ve invited back to your place for dinner. I hope you’re not planning on kidnapping me. I’m not sure how I would be able to explain that one to my new boss,” I retorted sassily, with more conviction than I felt.

  In all honesty, what girl couldn’t use a private cruise down to California in the middle of winter?

  As I gazed out at the ocean from the bow of Sean’s fabulous floating mansion, it wasn’t hard to see why he craved this sort of freedom.

  No landlord to worry about each month, no boss to report to every day; just limitless opportunities to travel anywhere that had a (large) dock nearby. The thought of that type of personal autonomy was enough to make me wish I knew how to use a computer for something other than shopping or updating my Facebook status.

  Maybe Sean and I could team up create a new shoe design site? I had certainly enjoyed my first experience. I’m sure there were enough women, and probably men as well, that would be willing to pony up a little bit more than normal for the ability to create their own unique design?

  “No worries, I promise I’ll have you back on dry land by morning,” Sean replied, far too presumptuously for my liking.

  Where does he get off thinking he’s going to be diving into my deep end just because he’s got a yacht?

  Although I had to admit, it certainly didn’t make him any less appealing…

  “I’m not sure that I like your odds of keeping me in moist environs tonight either,” I fired back, determined not to let him see me as just another easy conquest as he attempted to repair his ego in the wake of his recently finalized divorce.

  “Wow, did you feel a sudden chill in the air or was it just me?” Sean retorted as he downed the rest of his drink.

  “Why don’t we head inside and see if we can find a way to warm things up,” he replied, casually slipping an arm around my waist.

  “Perfect, I can’t wait for dinner. I’m starving!” I replied, doing my best to deflect Sean’s innuendo.

  Given the circumstances, continue the night on a full stomach seemed like a wise idea, particularly as I couldn’t help but notice that Sean’s well-muscled arm had already started to meander southward as we wandered inside.

  As soon as we stepped back inside the yacht, I was overcome by a delightfully intoxicating aroma.

  Turning towards Sean, I asked, “Do you have something cooking already?”

  I hadn’t pegged him as having much in the way of culinary skills, but it certainly would have been a welcome surprise. Then again, I wasn’t in a position to say much of anything as Elyse and I rarely used our oven for anything other than occasional emergency shoe storage space.

  Giving me a look of stunned disbelief, Sean replied, “I don’t cook, but my chef is the best. I hardly ever eat out anymore if I’m anywhere near my boat.”

  Of course. What was I thinking?

  Who owns a yacht and doesn’t have a private chef, right? I’m sure the other yacht people would have laughed him out of the marina if he had shown up without one.

  It was quickly becoming apparent that Sean and I were living in two very different realities but, the more I got a chance to take a peek at his, I couldn’t help thinking that it wasn’t all that unappealing…

  “So, what’s on the menu for tonight? It smells amazing,” I responded quickly, not wanting to dwell on my little faux pas.

  “I’m not sure but why don’t we find out,” Sean replied, guiding me into the galley in an increasingly hands on fashion.

  “Manuel, can you let Ms. Graham know what’s on the menu for tonight?” Sean inquired of a compact, swarthy looking man who was markedly perspiring under a shaggy mane of dark hair while actively bouncing between the massive grill and a couple of exquisite, built-in, ovens.

  Taking in the various sights and aromas, I couldn’t help thinking that Manuel might have been the missing ingredient in my own culinary exploits.

  How is it that every kitchen doesn’t come equipped with a personal chef? That definitely wasn’t mentioned as an optional upgrade the last time I browsed through a Home Depot.

  “Sure thing,” he replied with a hint of an accent that I couldn’t quite place, wiping the sweat from his brow as he turned towards us.

  “We’ve got a seafood Bouillabaisse prepared with chunks of halibut, shrimp, crab, mussels and a saffron wine sauce to start, followed by Alaskan King Crab legs served with a medley of vegetables and served on a bed of kale, and a Valrhona Chocolate Symphony for dessert with baked manjari chocolate cake, bitter-sweet cocao sorbet and burnt chai crémeux.”

  Even though Manuel’s description of dessert was a step beyond my culinary grasp, my mouth started to water just trying to imagine it.

  “Do you think that should satisfy you?” Sean inquired curtly as he dipped a spoon into the bouillabaisse.

  “I suppose if that’s all that you have in stock, it’ll have to do,” I retorted half-heartedly, my mind was still firmly focused on the upcoming Chocolate Symphony.

  As Manuel opened one of the ovens, an aromatic burst of chocolaty goodness drifted out and immediately captured my attention.

  Beethoven may have had his Ode to Joy, but my symphony was going to be an Ode to Chocolate!

  Chocolate, when I’m with you I feel complete,

  Not just there to eat, you’re so obviously a treat,

  Yet it’s hard to be discrete, when you taste oh so sweet.

  Sensual, dark and forbidden,

  It’s clear why I have to keep our love hidden.

  I would lie and tell you that I just want a bite,

  But we both know I want you to spend the night.

  Hmm, I wonder if it would be tacky to ask if we could start with dessert?

  Women might be able to fake orgasms. But men can fake a whole relationship – Sharon Stone

  55. As we emerged from the galley, it quickly became evident to me that Sean’s expansive dining room was going to go unused tonight as Sean guided me upstairs and politely ushered me over to a small, candle-lit table that had been set up on the top deck for dinner.

  As I sat down, I really wanted to believe that it was the inner, and thus far well co
ncealed, romantic in him that had brought us up there to dine under the stars.

  However, as I gazed around, I couldn’t help thinking that the enormous hot tub lurking ominously at the other end of the deck might have somehow influenced the choice of venue for our meal.

  Deciding then and there that I wasn’t going swimming with a shark unless I knew there was some sort of spark, I asked as we sat down to our steaming bowls of bouillabaisse, “So, now that everything with your divorce is finalized, what are you going to do with yourself? Do you have any projects in the works or are you retired for now?”

  Note to self - I really need to find out who his financial planner is.

  Thirty-five seemed like the perfect age to kick back and enjoy the fruits of my years of labour yet, for some reason, my guy at the bank continually insisted on talking about a freedom 85 plan for me.

  “I’m not too sure yet. Bill Gates can be a pretty generous guy when he decides that there’s a product on the market that he needs, so I’m pretty much set for life financially. Right now I’m just going to enjoy each day and see what comes along. I really haven’t made any plans than extend past dinner… or perhaps dessert,” he replied as he shot a surreptitious glance in the direction of the hot tub.

  Following his gaze, I couldn’t help shuddering as I wondered how regularly he had that thing sanitized. Judging by the wistful expression on Sean’s face, I was fairly sure that I wasn’t the first date he had brought up here for “dinner”.

  “Mmm, I know what you mean; I’m so excited for that Chocolate Symphony as well. Having a chef around all the time has got to really test your will power,” I responded, doing my best to appear completely oblivious to his overtures.

  “I do what I can to try to find ways to burn off calories. I’m getting the impression that you don’t give in to your urges too often though, eh?” he retorted, clearly having difficulty keeping his frustration simmering below deck level.

  “That’s so sweet of you to say! I had a birthday recently and I did actually indulge a bit when my girls took me out for dinner but I’m happy to hear that it doesn’t show,” I responded coyly, knowing full well that Sean was seething in his seat, unable to successfully steer the conversation in the direction that he was so doggedly attempting to point it in.

  “No, it doesn’t show at all. In fact, I would have to say that you look like you’re ready for swimsuit season,” he replied, trying a different tack to lead me down the garden path.

  “I don’t know, I think I still have to tighten things up a bit back here, don’t you think?” I replied as I stood up and discretely pointed my derriere in Sean’s direction while leaning against the table for just long enough for him to take in the view before I returned to my seat as I said, “Thank goodness I still have a few months before things warm up, huh?”

  “Indeed. Can I top up your wine?” Sean offered, as Manuel materialized with the crab legs.

  “Thanks, that’s so thoughtful of you. You’re such a gentleman,” I replied with a salacious giggle.

  Could he be any more obvious?

  “These crab legs look amazing. Maunel seems like pretty good find,” I mentioned casually as we both dug into our meal.

  “He’s the best. These claws are a bit of work to get past though, aren’t they,” Sean replied.

  “But it’s so moist and tender once you get inside,” I responded after taking a bite, letting a dewdrop of butter linger on my lips until I slowly licked it off, swirling my tongue tantalizingly.

  Admittedly, putting ideas in Sean’s head may not have been the most direct route to a long lasting, meaningful relationship. However, since I was convinced that those ideas were swirling around his imagination anyway, I didn’t see the harm in teasing him a little bit…

  Sean reached for another leg, his eyes never leaving my face as he murmured, “Moist you say, eh,” as his crab cracker sent a shell pin-wheeling over the side of the boat.

  “Very. It just takes a little patience to get in there,” I replied as I delicately cracked another shell, spearing the meat and tipping my head back before I leisurely sucked the meat into my mouth and pointedly licked my fingers.

  Sean forcefully cracked another leg by hand, splintering the shell as I turned to wink at him.

  I was feeling a bit more comfortable now that I had some food in me and the wine had taken the edge off my nerves.

  Sean was still a complete and utter enigma but it was gratifying to know that I had the ability to get under his skin and provoke some sort of response from him. With a little bit of luck and a couple more bottles of wine, perhaps I might even get him to share something personal about himself.

  Oh the sacrifices women have to make to start a meaningful relationship!

  “I think that after waiting a year for this process to finally end, I might have exhausted all the restraint I possess. Every time I walked through the door to your offices, I thought I was going to snap. Don’t you think I deserve some sort of reward for holding it together through all of that?” Sean asked with an earnest grin before reaching for his wine.

  “Perhaps, but before we talk about rewards or get to dessert, I wanted to ask you something. It’s a bit personal though, so don’t feel obligation to answer,” I replied, sensing that he might finally be ready to open up and hoping to seize the opportunity to satisfy my curiosity about some of the rumours I had heard.

  “Fire away, I don’t have anything to hide,” Sean replied, gazing at me with curiosity.

  That seemed highly unlikely, but there was only one way to find out.

  Taking a deep breath, I plunged forward, asking, “Well, I had heard rumours floating around the office that infidelity claims were made in your proceeding. Do you mind if I ask if that’s true?”

  Hmm, was that question possibly a tiny bit too personal to be asking on a first date?

  Even if it was, I figured that I should know what I was getting myself into given how eager Sean appeared to be to get to dessert.

  Sean scowled at me for a moment before turning away and looking out at the water, apparently deep in thought; taking his time as he pondered my question.

  The silence was deafening and by the time Sean finally looked back at me, my nerves were a bit frayed. I couldn’t help but wonder just how much my question had irritated him?

  “So I guess client confidentiality goes out the window when it comes to water cooler gossip, eh?” he finally replied, tersely.

  Clearly not expecting a response from me, Sean continued on, sighing as he said, “Yeah, there was an infidelity issue, no question about it.”

  He paused for a moment, looking skyward before asking, “I’m sure you heard about Natasha’s job in Japan right?” he asked, waiting for my nod before continuing, “As it turns out, a couple of the businessmen she had met over there kept in touch with her and uh, likewise for her with them I guess you could say,” he concluded with a wry smile.

  Ah, so this is what foot in mouth tastes like.

  Frick! How could Paul have not told me it was Natasha that was cheating? And was he tearing up? This was getting awkward!

  “Oh, I’m so sorry. I hadn’t realized. All of the rumours I had heard were that you were the one who had…” my voice trailed off as my face flushed the same color as my wine.

  It was quickly becoming apparent that the more I said, the deeper the hole I was digging for myself to attempt to crawl out of.