by Sophie Love
She grabbed a Sharpie from her bag and wrote on the pink lock: The Romance Guru. Then she grinned to herself and locked it to the bridge.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Keira checked her watch and saw there wasn’t much time before the ship left the harbor, heading for its next destination. So she left the lover’s bridge and headed to the harbor to see the Little Mermaid statue. It seemed even more appropriate to her now to see it.
The mermaid looked out to sea, waiting for her love to return, a lover she’d sacrificed everything for. Keira thought of herself, and the things she had sacrificed for men. For Zach, it had been love in general. They’d never really loved each other, but had bobbed happily along side by side for two whole years. Shane had taken from her her sense of wonder, because she knew she’d never recapture that feeling now of abandon, of throwing caution to the wind. That experience had left her jaded. Cristiano had taken more from her; a chunk of her heart was missing because of him, although she couldn’t fully understand why. Whatever the reason, each of the men had made a deep mark on her. Each had taken a piece from her that she would never get back.
Her high from breakfast suddenly faded, as she looked upon the morose mermaid statue. The sense of loneliness etched into the stone features seemed to mirror her own. Love or lust, whatever it was, experiencing it too often was still emotionally taxing.
She glanced over then and saw a couple taking engagement photos nearby. They were taking a long time to perfect their pose, with the girl holding up a huge sparkling diamond as the man kissed her cheek. Keira watched them, taking shot after shot until finally they’d found the perfect one. How many false starts, how many attempts, did it take until it was perfect? Was it ever perfect or had they settled? Was that all that marriage really meant? Choosing not to experience the toll of lust, love, heartache, and heartbreak anymore? Finding someone else who’d had enough of it as well? Putting a big sparkly symbol on your finger that screamed to all nearby: This will do!
A melancholy came over her. She looked around, seeing couples, looking at them skeptically. What was it, really, that they were looking for and finding in each other?
Just like when she’d arrived in Denmark, Keira felt suddenly, agonizingly alone.
*
Keira wanted to watch the ship pulling out of the harbor so she went up on deck with a glass of wine and found her lounger. As she waited, the sky darkening around her, she wrote some notes about the day.
Her change in mood had been abrupt. It was amazing how the same thought—that there was no One, no single person that could fulfill your needs at all the different stages of life—could be empowering in one minute and crushingly painful the next. How she’d gone from laughing at the pink lock debacle, glad she wasn’t in such a mess, to staring longingly at a couple taking engagement photos, wondering whether it would ever be her turn.
She hovered her pen over the paper, then wrote down one simple phrase:
My mind is a mess.
Sighing, Keira took a sip of wine. It was very cold tonight, and she wrapped her arms around her chest, drawing warmth from herself. Then she heard the engines change sound and knew that they’d be leaving Denmark soon.
She didn’t know what to make of the place, or how to quantify her experience there. She hadn’t fallen in love or lust, so she could chalk that up as a win. But how to express that in words, she couldn’t work out.
She heard the churning noise of water then; propellers cutting through waves. The boat rumbled from friction, then started moving. Keira’s stomach flipped from the sensation.
She watched Denmark shrink from view, until its lights were little more than a twinkle on the horizon. Out in the ocean, it was even colder. And as they picked up speed, the wind chill stung Keira’s face. It was too much to bear, so she collected her notebook and wine and headed back inside to the comfort of her room.
She poured another glass of wine and settled at the desk, looking through the small round window at the empty expanse of ocean. There really was nothing like the sight of, well, nothing, to really heighten one’s sense of loneliness.
Keira could bear it no more. She grabbed her cell phone and called Bryn.
“Hey, lil sis,” her sister said as she answered. “How’s Denmark?”
“A smudge on the horizon, thankfully,” Keira told her.
“Oh?” Bryn said, quizzically. “You didn’t like it?”
“The country? It was lovely. Like everywhere in Europe I’ve seen. Beautiful. Historic. Romantic. It’s just that I’m alone and it’s hard to have fun on your own, even if you are in a unique city like Copenhagen.”
“Oh, sweetie,” Bryn said, sounding empathetic.
Keira found it strange how much kinder Bryn was these days. Felix was having a great effect on her.
“How’s everything with you?” Keira asked. “Did you move yet?”
“Pretty much,” Bryn told her. The smile was audible in her voice. “We’ve sold some furniture, bought some stuff for the both of us, worked out some color schemes, that sort of thing.”
“Full steam ahead,” Keira said. “No pun intended.”
Bryn laughed. “Enough about me,” she said for what Keira was certain was the first time in her life ever. “How are you? You sound really down.”
“I am,” Keira said with a deep sigh. “I mean, I’m kind of up and down, you know. Apt considering the waves are literally moving me up and down.” She chuckled sadly to herself. “But I had, like, an epiphany this morning and I was really motivated. But by the afternoon it was completely gone and suddenly I felt awful again. All this focus on love is draining.”
She paused, realizing Bryn hadn’t even interrupted her. It was like her sister had had a brain transplant. Not that Bryn was usually awful, but she usually had a lot to say, an opinion she just had to express about everything. Keira wasn’t used to being given the time and space to fully explain herself.
“You know, you’re getting really good at listening,” Keira told Bryn. But then, on the other end of the line, she heard nothing but silence. Assuming her sister was joking, she laughed. “Yes, yes, very funny.”
But still, there was silence. Keira took her cell phone from her ear and discovered the call had disconnected. The bars that indicated how much signal she had were now empty. The call had cut out. She had no idea how long ago.
Keira sighed, sadly, and headed to bed.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Keira was woken the next morning by the sound of her cell phone ringing. The boat was rocking in a more pronounced manner than it had so far, and it made her stomach roll a little. She groaned, reached out, and grasped for her phone. It was the Viatorum office, which meant either Nina, Heather, or, on rare occasions, Elliot. She answered the call with anticipation.
“Keira, hi,” came Nina’s voice.
Keira let out a breath of relief. Nina was definitely her preference out of the three options.
Nina continued speaking. “Look, the article so far is fine. Your description of Denmark, your amusing story about the museum. But we need more.” She paused. “More interaction. It’s hardly a challenge not to rebound if you haven’t given yourself the chance to actually meet anyone.”
“Being a hermit crab is one way to make sure I don’t fall in love,” Keira joked.
Nina didn’t seem to be in the joking mood. “Keira, come on. You know what we’re looking for by now. This is your fourth assignment. I shouldn’t need to be holding your hand.”
Keira felt the sting of Nina’s words. From Elliot, she wouldn’t have cared so much, but Nina was supposed to be a friend first, co-worker second. She was starting to get a bit too big for her boots since she’d transitioned from an assistant editor—one of many—to just editor. Cream of the crop. In fact, Keira couldn’t even recall the last time they’d actually socialized together outside of work. She sighed.
“I hear what you’re saying,” Keira said. “You want me to experience temptation, right? To get
close enough for love but decide against it.” Her voice was flat as she spoke. She understood the rules now. The game they wanted her to play.
“That would be a good start,” Nina replied. “And a damn sight more interesting than this passage about a sad mermaid.”
“The Little Mermaid statue,” Keira replied between her teeth. “I thought that passage was poignant.”
“Readers don’t want poignant,” Nina challenged. “They want to see you interact. They want to see you skulk away under the disapproving glare of a group of Japanese tourists because you’ve scoffed aloud at a story of love, not read about you wistfully comparing yourself to a statue. Get out and SPEAK to people, dammit.”
“I can’t today,” Keira told Nina tersely. “I’m stuck on the boat. We won’t reach Finland for another twenty-four hours.”
The ocean waves swelled beneath her then in a sickening motion. Keira prayed there wouldn’t be twenty-four more hours of this to get through.
“Then speak to someone on the cruise,” came Nina’s curt response. “The cruise is supposed to be part of the article too and you haven’t said a thing about it, other than that tiny section about your server in the dining room. Interview some people. Go to a play. Meet a boy. Watch the entertainment on a date and come up with some lovely extended metaphor about love and the ocean.”
“And what about Scandinavia?” Keira replied scathingly.
“Just add in some snow! Okay?”
Keira was stunned by Nina’s attitude. It wasn’t like her friend to pull rank on her like that. In fact, she was sounding more and more like Joshua every day! She started wondering whether Nina could even be classified as her friend anymore at all.
“Fine,” she finally replied. “I’ll write a passage about love on a ship, if it will please you.”
Nina ended the call before Keira had a chance to say goodbye.
Peeved from the call and nauseous from the boat, Keira didn’t exactly feel like hurrying to breakfast. Instead, she went into the adjacent bathroom and spent a long time soaking in the hot shower water, mulling everything over in her mind. Viatorum was starting to push and pull her around in all directions. Sometimes the way they treated her was flat out rude. In fact, Zachary of all people had been more polite to her recently than her employers had! A difficult conversation was going to have to take place when she returned home. She’d thought she’d gotten her point across to Elliot last time but clearly nothing had sunk in.
She left the shower room and sat on her vanity stool. Her image swayed in the reflection in front of her, rocking from left to right in syncopated rhythm. This was by far the worst day to be stuck onboard. The last thing she’d be able to do was enjoy the entertainment. The thought of a date made her toes curl. Perhaps this article was going to end up closer to fiction than fact.
She dried and styled her hair, put some “approachable” makeup on—neutral shades, nothing bold—and a “friendly” looking outfit—jeans, slogan T, flat shoes—then headed out of her room, locking the door behind her.
The corridor lurched from left to right, making her stumble. Getting to the breakfast bar took double the time as usual.
When she got there, she found her ginger-haired server at his wooden podium. His usually brown freckled skin was looking strangely green. He appeared to be holding himself up with the podium rather than standing beside it.
“Morning,” he grumbled.
“Are you okay?” Keira asked. “You don’t look well.”
“Seasick,” he said. “If I were you, I’d grab something and take it on deck. Watching the horizon and breathing fresh air is the only way to stop seasickness.”
“Thanks for the tip,” she replied.
She staggered over to the buffet area and took a bagel and little pot of cream cheese, then a bottle of water and an apple. So much for dieting…
“No coffee?” the server asked as she passed.
She shook her head. “I think it would make me sick.”
“I think that’s a good call,” he replied, making a grim face. “I regret mine this morning.”
She laughed and headed out to the deck.
The cold air hit her like a slap to the face. They were geographically further north now and the weather had chilled further to match. She found her now usual lounger, sat down, and began to munch on the bagel while looking through the ship’s brochure of entertainment. There was a play on during the day, and after that a live band with dancing. Keira shrugged. There wasn’t anything else to do so she may as well just go to both. A play wouldn’t be particularly sociable but hopefully she’d use the time to get some inspiration and ideas for the extended metaphor Nina was after. Besides, the dance later on should make up for it. There’d be tons of people to talk to there.
She finished her breakfast and wiped the crumbs from her lap, then headed back inside the boat to find the theater. As the ship rocked her from side to side she tried to come up with some phrases for her article.
Now single, I’m standing on ground as unsteady as the deck beneath my feet.
She staggered down unfamiliar corridors, following the directions toward the entertainment deck, which she’d not yet visited. Maybe Nina had a bit of a point—though expressed badly. She had been extremely unsociable on this trip.
She wondered now why that was. She’d never considered herself a particularly shy person, but she wasn’t as sociable as Bryn, or Maxine, say. She was just driven. There were a million other things she wanted to do more than chat. So why then was she so personable when it came to Shane? And Cristiano? Was she one of those women who only bothered to speak to people she could get something from? The thought troubled her.
At last, she made it to the entertainment deck and theater where the play was soon to take place. They’d made a whole song and dance of it, with staff dressed up like posh hotel porters, right down to the little hats. She went over to the one standing beside the door.
“Am I right in thinking there’s a play taking place today?” she asked him.
“Yes. Romeo and Juliet,” he replied.
“Oh,” Keira said.
Romeo and Juliet. The world’s most romantic play. Immediately she was reminded of the Juliet balcony she’d visited on her prior assignment. When her heart and head had been in completely different places. When she had been a different person, unmarked by the recent changes and experiences of her life.
“Is that a problem?” the man said then, snapping her back to the moment. “You look devastated.”
“Sorry,” Keira said, coming back to the conversation. “It just has a bit of a personal significance to me.” He looked at her quizzically, and she added, “I’m a writer. Romance travel articles. Bit niche, but basically I travel the world interviewing people about love.”
“That sounds really interesting,” the man replied. “Why don’t you speak to some of the actors?”
Keira’s eyes widened. “Do you think they’d want to speak to me?”
He gave her a look then. “They’re actors. Speaking is literally their favorite thing to do. Want me to take you backstage?”
“That would be great!” Keira grinned.
The man opened the large entrance doors and beckoned her inside. The theater was just like a normal-looking theater, a big stage, a red velvet curtain, balconies. The only real difference was the way the chairs were bolted down to the floor.
Keira felt quite excited about this trip backstage. Imagine Nina’s face when she read the next section of her article starring Romeo and Juliet, the Romeo and Juliet!
The corridors were dark and the movement of the ship made it even more disorientating. But at last they emerged into a brightly lit area which reminded Keira of a gym changing room. There, sitting in a chair in the corner, was a woman tapping into her cell phone dressed up in period clothes. Juliet, she guessed.
“That’s Anita,” the staff member said. “Juliet. And Romeo is over there.” He pointed to where a shirtless man was doing
pull-ups. “Dirk.”
Romeo looked up at the intruders. “Can I help you?”
Keira looked to the staff member for some kind of support but he left the floor to her. She cleared her throat. “I’m a writer,” she announced. “I write romance articles. I wondered if I could speak to you about your roles and love.”
Juliet put her phone down. “Ooh, I’d love that!” she exclaimed, smiling.
She was incredibly beautiful, Keira noticed. And she had a Scandinavian accent. At last, a local!
Keira left Romeo to his workout and went over to Juliet, who patted the seat beside her, grinning invitingly.
“Hi!” the girl said, when Keira sat. She appeared much younger on closer inspection. “This is so cool. Am I going to be in a newspaper or something?”
“A magazine,” Keira told her. “Viatorum.”
Anita shrugged. “I’ve not heard of it. Sorry.”
“That’s okay,” Keira replied. “We’re relatively small. At the moment anyway. We’re growing every day.”
Anita smiled. “So how can I help you?”
“Basically, I travel the world and ask people about love, marriage, that sort of thing.”
Anita rolled her eyes immediately. “I’m the least Juliet-like Juliet you’ll ever meet,” she said.
“You’re another Scandi who hates marriage?”
“We don’t hate it,” she rebuked. “We just prefer partnerships, you know? Marriage is so patriarchal. No one really bothers here, or at least not until they’re much older.”
“How old is older?” Keira asked, writing Anita’s words down.
“Like, late thirties.”
Keira thought of her mom back in New York City, always telling her she needed to settle down soon, having children before her biological clock imploded. “What about starting families? Won’t it be a bit risky to be leaving it until that age?”