by Mignon Mykel
Good thing I wasn’t prone to seasickness.
I moved to put my back to the headboard, allowing me to look down at a sleeping Caleb. It was going to be our last day together. Thankfully, once the ship left this port, it would be a day of sailing. We could hang out anywhere on the ship—a restaurant, a pool, the lounge deck… this bed. I couldn’t stop the smile from blooming over my face.
I couldn’t help it.
But damn, did I wish we had met under different circumstances. My smile slowly left my face as I sighed.
I wasn’t meant for him.
I’d hate to think that this would end up meaning nothing to him, but I wasn’t naïve in thinking he would hold on to this night, this week, and ignore the show. Hell, I knew what women he would be meeting tomorrow night and they sure as hell weren’t me.
But no regrets. I had no regrets.
This week had been amazing, and if I never again got a chance to meet someone like Noah Caleb Prescott, I would be happy for having a small piece of his memory.
I heard a small beep indicating a message on my phone. I slid out of the bed gently so to not disturb him and headed downstairs to retrieve my phone from the bag. In it was a message from David.
Video chat in one hour.
I glanced at the timestamp then the time and saw I had fifteen minutes. Shit. Damn David forgetting the time difference.
Quietly, I went back upstairs to gather up my clothes, only bothering to put on my dress. I found a complimentary notebook and pen in the nightstand on my side of the bed and wrote a note for Caleb, in case he woke when I was in my room.
I almost crossed out the heart and the ‘your’ but figured the hell with it. I added my number to the end before capping the pen. It was probably dumb of me to give him my number. It meant he had it, and if he never used it after this week, I was probably setting my heart up for disappointment.
As if I had a reason to believe there would be more.
Fuck, Sydney! I thought. I knew better than to fall for him.
Leaving the note on my pillow, I picked up my bikini and left a slumbering Caleb behind me with a light kiss on his cheek.
Caleb
I became aware of the gentle sway of the boat well before I opened my eyes.
I was on my back, an arm tossed above my head and the other resting on my stomach. I would rather be curled around Syd. Then with a little bit of assisting from me, maybe the rock of the boat could do some of the work.
Keeping my eyes closed, I voiced my thoughts. “I wonder if this rocking could take all the work out of sex.” My gritty, sleepy voice echoed in the room. “Not that I don’t enjoy the strenuous activity with you. I’m just tired after a great night.”
But there wasn’t a reply. Surely Sydney would have a smartass comeback to that.
I opened my eyes now, looking to where she should be sleeping.
I frowned when I realized her side of the bed was empty.
She left? Seriously?
I sat up now, rubbing a hand over my chest. It was then I noticed the slip of paper on her pillow. I picked it up and read it, only to chuckle.
For a fun gig, she sure didn’t stop working. Assuming this meeting was with her casting guy, I wondered if she was finally going to get the type of show she liked.
I ran my finger over her heart, then her number, feeling like a pansy for the squeeze in my chest they both emitted. I glanced at the clock and saw that it was seven fifty. Because it was still raining, I’d just head toward her room. Knock, she’d open. If she wasn’t there, then I’d call her.
I pulled myself out of bed and put on a new pair of board shorts and a t-shirt, then began to pick up the suite a bit. The comforter, my clothes from yesterday.
When the place was somewhat presentable for the cleaning crew, I went to grab my phone. It had been in Sydney’s bag yesterday and if she left with the bag…
Well, if she took it, I’d be seeing her in a little bit anyway. If I had to call her, then I’d just try calling her room from the room-phone.
Startled, the room phone broke the silence.
Speaking of…
I picked up the receiver from the living area. “Hey, Chief. Just thinking about you.”
“Caleb? Tony here. Have a moment?”
Well, shit.
“Hey, Tony, how’s it going? Enjoy your week?” I glanced at the clock. I hoped he made this quick.
“Great, great. So we have some things we have to accomplish today. Wardrobe, hair, you’re moving rooms. Tons of stuff. We need to start yesterday.”
Yeah, no. This was supposed to be my week. I was about to break in and tell him this when he continued. “We have some great shots of you from this week, but too many with that casting lady. We’ll need a few monologue pieces from you today too.”
“Can’t this all be done tomorrow?” Surely it could. Sydney would be disembarking sometime after seven and the show, if you would, didn’t start until four in the afternoon. “We have like… eight hours to do these things tomorrow.”
“The crew is working with the ladies tomorrow. We have to finish your pre-show things today.”
“Look, it’s my last day with Sydney. She’s been a great…friend. Can she just hang out?” Damn, I sounded like a teenage girl. I was grasping at straws to keep her around, when I knew all along she was leaving.
But I had until Monday. I had until fucking Monday.
“Sorry, but no. We’ll have someone contact her. I need you in the auditorium in ten minutes,” Tony said, hanging up before I could get in another word.
I slammed the phone down on the receiver.
Fuck!
I looked around the suite helplessly.
I was getting a new suite? What the fuck was wrong with this one?
It kind of smelled like Sydney. Everywhere I looked reminded me of Sydney.
But it wasn’t like I was going to fucking bring the other girls here. No. I was getting through this effing show and I was finding Sydney after.
I picked up the phone and dialed her room.
It rang.
And rang.
And fucking rang some more.
Where was she?
Hell, Tony had to let me see her. She had my phone! Yeah, Sydney had my phone. I’d still see her. And talk to her. Yeah, I’d get to talk to her again before the day was over. I had to.
With no other choice but to wait until I could see her, I grabbed my room key and left for the auditorium.
Fuck this day.
Sydney
After a very unimportant video chat with David where he informed me that the cast was on their way—yeah, got that David—I waited for eight to happen. It wasn’t like I could just let myself back into Caleb’s room.
It was raining, so I walked the inside decks with my phone in hand. After a while though, I looked at my phone and saw that it was almost eight thirty.
Well, what the hell?
I should have found his phone before leaving and did that sneaky text thing to get his phone number, but that was just that – sneaky.
Maybe he’d try to come to my room. That was the most logical thing; it’s where I should have told him to meet me. Duh, Sydney.
I headed back to my room and as I rounded the corner from the stairs, saw a person standing by the door. The man was quite a bit shorter than Caleb, so I knew it wasn’t him.
“May I help you?” I said as I neared, realizing the man must be waiting for me. Why, I hadn’t a clue.
I had my hand ready to dial out an emergency if needed, though.
“Sydney Meadows?” the man asked.
“That’s me.”
“Tony. Tony Cruz.” He held out his hand and I shook it to be polite. Who was this man and how did he know my name?
“I’m the producer for the show. Sorry we haven’t met before now.”
Everything clicked now. I had heard he was producing Beauty but didn’t know much more than that. After light research, I had noticed he pr
oduced this type of show often. Nothing award worthy, but he was well known for this type of show.
“I was just speaking with Caleb. Sorry he can’t meet with you. He sends his condolences and wishes you the best of luck in…Utah, was it? Anyway, you have his phone.”
I could feel the frown on my face during the entire conversation. This Tony character was a quick-speaking man with an agenda, and I didn’t quite care for him. I was the type of person who made pretty rash, quick judgments on people and I had yet to be proven wrong about a personality.
Thank goodness I didn’t have to work with him.
“I think you’re mistaken. I don’t have Caleb’s phone,” I said while thinking back to where it could possibly be. When I remembered him putting it in the bag yesterday, I added, “Actually, yes, I might have it.”
“Right. He said you had it.”
I refrained from mimicking the man.
I turned to open my door. “I’ll just go check real quick.” When I pushed open the door and stepped into my room, I expected the door to close.
It didn’t.
I looked over my shoulder, my heart starting a rapid staccato. Tony was standing in the doorway.
“I said I was getting his damn phone.”
“Listen.” He stepped forward to let the door close behind him. The click was deafening.
I turned, not wanting my back to the strange person in my room, and moved backward toward my made bed where the bag rested. I picked it up, keeping the canvas between me and the man, as if the bag would do anything in self-defense.
Surely he wouldn’t do anything if he was the producer of the show. He had a reputation to uphold.
I reached into the bag, my eyes still on Tony, blindly searching for Caleb’s phone.
“I allowed Prescott to have this week with you.” This was news to me. If I wasn’t so weary of Tony, I would be able to focus on the tightness in my chest the words brought. My being here when Caleb was hadn’t been an accident. His wanting to be with me wasn’t just to pass the time. “He asked to invite you and I said ok, but I didn’t want you to interfere with the show. The problem is, Sydney Meadows, I think you’ve done just that; interfered with the show.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t play stupid.”
I pulled the phone out after finding it.
“I have a number of successful shows under my belt. If this show tanks because my lead is too focused on the assistant who casted my ladies, I’ll be pissed and take you to court.”
I really didn’t think he had a leg to stand on, but I kept my mouth shut.
“Just…take his phone,” was my eventual response. I had the urge to cry and I wasn’t about to do it in front of this bastard. “Tell him I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I had it.”
Tony reached for the phone, taking it from me quickly.
“Enjoy your last day at sea, Sydney.”
Caleb
It was five at night and I still hadn’t been able to see Sydney. Tony had retrieved my phone, fucker, and said that she told me good luck.
Like fuck would she just wish me good luck.
My hair was cut, my face cleaned back to my typical goatee. Makeup had determined what foundations worked best for my skin.
Makeup. Fucking makeup.
I really should have just asked Sydney for her number, rather than say I’d do this stupid show.
Tony had informed me that when we docked, the crew would be putting in a skate rink in the second auditorium. Said that was where he wanted me to do some of my monologues but because it wasn’t ready yet, he propped me in front of a green screen in an empty room.
He had me talk about my family, my life. About growing up hockey and about my career as a player of my own.
He had me walking the decks and “looking forlorn,” as if I was heartbroken to be single in this great big world. I drew the line at pretending to be jealous that my kid brother had a serious girlfriend.
If Jonny wanted Jenna, he could have the bitch. I wasn’t jealous of that.
I have to say, it was a little easy to act the heartsick part though. All I had to do was think about Sydney and how she probably thought I put this space between us.
Needing to see her face in any way that I could, I brought the disposable camera to the on-ship developer during a ten minute break that I had. I wouldn’t be able to pick them up until tomorrow, but that was ok. It would allow me to try and get copies to Syd, too.
After a quick talk about the expectations for tomorrow with Tony over dinner, I finally found my way back to my suite. I asked about keeping this one, but was told I was getting an even bigger one for the show.
As if I needed a bigger room.
I headed up to the loft and collapsed on my bed, arms and legs out, not giving a shit about anything but Sydney. I could smell her, smell us.
I rolled to my side to get my phone from the nightstand, where I placed it before dinner. In the drawer, I found Sydney’s note and punched her number into my phone, saving it under ‘Chief’.
I pulled up a new text and sent her a quick message.
Missed you today.
I lay there with my phone in front of me, waiting for a response.
Waiting.
Waiting.
Waiting some more.
Worried, I sent another.
No regrets, right, Chief?
Still, no response.
Not wanting to beg, I eventually put my phone down on the mattress beside me and stared at the ceiling. It was hardly twelve hours, and already I missed her like crazy.
Sydney
I sat on my balcony, watching the waves as the ship made its way back to port. We would dock early in the morning and from there…
I didn’t know.
I would have a plane to catch, of course. Then I’d get home. Wait with all of America for the show to air. Watch sadly as Caleb found the love of his life. Be jealous of the woman I chose for him; be jealous of the kisses, the touches, the knowledge that she’d get all of him.
While I just sat back in Utah.
Fuck him for not coming for his phone himself.
Fuck him for sending that douche Tony to tell me goodbye.
I could feel the tears threatening again and angrily rubbed at my eyes. When I was certain the tears would stay at bay, I glanced down at my phone on the table, seeing he texted me yet again.
No regrets, right, Chief?
No. No regrets.
I wouldn’t trade this week for the world, nor last night, but damn…I was hurting.
I’m not sure how long I sat out there, my knees drawn to my chest as I sat on the patio chair, but eventually the sun disappeared and the moon took its place.
Caleb stopped texting me hours ago.
Probably easy to do when you weren’t receiving responses.
I gingerly unfolded myself from the chair, my knees aching from sitting in one spot for so long. I picked up my phone from the table and stepped inside the room, shutting the French-style door behind me just as a fierce pounding came from my door.
I glanced at the clock.
Nine.
Already?
Damn, the time just disappeared.
Again, the pounding sounded.
With a heavy sigh, I went to the door to look through the peephole. I’d be damned if I dealt with that Tony again.
But it wasn’t Tony.
It was Caleb.
Closing my eyes, resigning myself to the fact that yes, I wanted to cry, and yes, the tears were going to come regardless of how hard I tried not to, I rested my head to the door.
“Go away, Caleb,” I muttered, unsure if he’d hear me through the door.
“Open the door, Chief.”
I shook my head, my forehead rocking against the wood. I had to be strong. This had to end now before it hurt more than it already did.
“Please, Syd baby. Open the door.”
I felt the first tear
slip down my cheek.
“Go away, Caleb,” I repeated.
“I’m not going anywhere. Open the door.”
I stood there, tears slowly leaking from my eyes as I held them closed, my forehead to the wood. After what felt like ages, I finally pushed up on tip-toe to look through the hole, certain he would have left.
I didn’t see him.
A sob came through my mouth before I could stop it. I put my fingers to my lips and closed my eyes.
No.
No regrets.
But a lot of fucking heartbreak.
Caleb
I sat outside her door.
I wasn’t moving.
Eventually she would have to open the door. That was my logic anyway.
I rested my back to her door, my head rolling back and forth against the wood as I waited.
She probably wouldn’t come out tonight any longer, but I was sitting here.
I wasn’t going anywhere.
I sighed, resigning myself to a long night, when I heard her sob on the other side of the door.
Fuck me running, my heart hurt for her.
My heart wanted her.
I didn’t want her to cry, and I fucking made her do it.
I stood and open-handedly pounded on the door again.
“C’mon, Syd, open the door. Don’t cry, baby.”
Then finally. Thank fucking God, finally, the door opened.
And there she stood.
My pixie redhead.
Her face red with tears, her amber eyes dull and lifeless, her hair in its normal messy bun. The bun though was sitting more to the side of her head than the top.
And fuck if I could tell myself that I wasn’t already halfway in love with her.
Sydney
I shouldn’t have done it, but I couldn’t seem to stop myself from pulling the door open.
I’m sure I looked a mess, but he didn’t look much better.
Granted, he had a fancy haircut and his goatee was back on his handsome face, but that same face looked tired. Worn out. Finished.