“Hey. Chad. Look over there.” It was Hawaii lady, holding her bag of ice and pointing at me. “Isn’t that the woman from YouTube? The one with the book?”
Chad squinted at me. “I don’t think so. She looks too fat.”
It was time for me to make my exit, so I wadded the receipt up and stuffed it into the back pocket of my cutoffs before pulling down my hat and putting my sunglasses on.
I was that woman from YouTube, I did have a book, and no, I’m not fat anymore. But I’m not in the mood to have a conversation with a couple of tourists at the moment, so I raced out the door before they could ask if I was Charlie Miller, YouTube Influencer and best-selling author.
I got in my Corvette, the one indulgence I’d indulged in with my first royalty check, and pulled out of the driveway. Sam was coming over tonight so we could leave at dark-o’clock to head to Phoenix to catch an early flight to Miami. The ship was leaving Sunday, and we didn’t want to risk missing it, so we were flying in a day early.
As if I’d conjured her up, my phone rang. I pressed the button on my dash to answer the call. “Hey, Sammie.”
“Are you still at CVS?”
Samantha Mycek had been my best friend since junior high school. Our parents both moved to town the same summer and since my last name is Miller and hers is Mycek we got seated next to each other in homeroom.
“I just left, why?”
“I was going to ask you to get condoms.”
I paused a second to wait for her laughter, but she didn’t. She was serious! “I still have the ones you gave me from before.”
“Not for you, silly. For me! We’re going on a cruise to the Virgin Islands. I have no intention of acting like a virgin. Besides, the ones you have are probably expired.”
Expired? Do condoms expire? There was so much I didn’t know…
“I’m actually halfway home, but I can turn around if you really need them.” I would go somewhere else, though, so I didn't run into the Hawaii twins.
“No, I still have a couple leftover from when Jimmy and I went to Palm Springs.” Jimmy was her ex-boyfriend. “That’s one thing he forgot to take when he cleared out my apartment.”
How much action was she planning on getting in the next two weeks?
“Okay. Well, if you change your mind.” I pulled in the driveway of my house. “Otherwise, you’ll be here at eight, right?”
I was still renting the same two-bedroom house as when I first started making some money off of YouTube and wanted something more private than my parents’ place. I converted the second bedroom into a production studio, and I spend half my time recording videos for my channel “Whole, Healthy Living with Charlie Miller.” The rest of my time was spent editing videos, writing blogs and articles, and working on other marketing materials. Plus, I was in the middle of writing a sequel to my best-selling book, “Anchor Management: Release the weight to release the weight.”
Pulling my car in the garage, I grabbed the CVS bag and headed into my kitchen. I’d forgotten to leave the air on before I left, so the first thing I did was press the button. Within seconds, I felt the sweet relief of cool air blowing down on me. “Dry heat my ass,” I said to no one.
Crossing the living room to my desk, I picked up the checklist I made to see what else needed to be done before we left. Realizing I hadn’t called my agent back yet, I picked up my phone and pressed his number on my speed dial.
“Charlie!” He answered on the first ring. “How’s the famous speaker?”
“I’m hardly a famous speaker, Dan.” Although I was famous for YouTube and had success as a writer, the only public appearances I made were a few book signings. This cruise was his idea as a way of getting me comfortable speaking in front of actual people.
“Nervous, honestly. I still feel like a fat kid, not the woman who lost 75 pounds and wrote a book about it.”
“That’s normal, Charlie. You’ll do great.”
We discussed some business and then he was interrupted by another call. “Call me when you get back. I want to hear all about it!”
I was just hoping I didn’t make a huge fool of myself in front of a bunch of strangers.
2
Dean: Ship Shape
I hung up the phone and shook my head. Gianna still wasn’t returning my calls, and honestly, I couldn’t blame her. The last time we talked I told her that I had to cancel my planned leave and stayed on the ship. We hadn’t seen each other in three months.
“Carlos said that there is likely to be an inspector on board the next sailing, and I’m the captain. I have to be there,” I’d said in Italian. The string of curses she said in reply let me know that she wasn’t exactly happy.
We’d only been married two years, and most of that time I’d been gone. I thought she knew what she was getting into when she married a cruise ship captain, but some things are harder in reality than they are in your imagination. Love really isn’t enough.
If I was being honest with myself, though, I’d admit that I could go home more often than I did. The marriage was a mistake from the beginning. It was something I’d done to get my mother off my back and stop her from fixing me up with every single woman in Venice. I didn’t really love Gianna—not the way you’re supposed to love a wife. She had grown up next door to my family and was really just a convenient choice. Convenient until the day we got married, that was.
My grand plan to get my mother off my back failed epically. Instead of getting her to leave me alone, she stepped it up. Only now it was about having babies, and I had both of them harping on me constantly. Gianna and I hadn’t even been back from our honeymoon for two days (if you can call a weekend in Milan a honeymoon) before my mother started asking about “bambinos.” I’d never been happier to fly to Miami and get back to the Ocean Allure.
“Hey Gianna. It’s me. Again. Look, I’m really sorry I had to cancel our plans. Maybe you can come to Miami and we can meet here again? Your favorite hotel? Anyway. Call me back.”
I put the phone in its charger and went to change into my uniform. Even though we had a day before the next group of passengers arrived, I had a lot to do to get this place into “ship shape” if we were having mystery inspectors on the cruise.
I waved my security key in the staff elevator and it took me up to the bridge of the ship. As much as I loved having a ship full of passengers, I loved when it was just the crew even more. The Allure was one of the larger ships in the fleet, with 1500 crew on board at any given time, but it still felt like a small family. I loved seeing the familiar faces of my crew as I went about my day-to-day duties. When we were docked like this, I had more time to spend with the crew.
The doors opened, and my eyes adjusted to the sunlight pouring in from the bank of windows. I could see the dock workers loading supplies onto the ship, and golf carts going back and forth carrying various maintenance crews and others.
As I crossed the Lido deck and passed the empty pools with their nettings on, and listened to the different languages spoken, my heart swelled. I loved it. There was nothing like a cruise ship. It was a floating combination of a hotel, casino, ten incredible restaurants, nightlife to rival Las Vegas, and an art gallery with pieces worthy of a museum. And it was mine. All mine.
I’d spent my entire career working my way up to captain. As the youngest man to ever achieve the title, I was proud of my success.
Had I sacrificed? Sure. The sad state of my marriage was evidence of that. Did I think about leaving? Taking a smaller ship on, say, a river? I had. But, for now, this was enough. There was nothing compelling me to leave, and the benefits of being the captain of the Ocean Allure outweighed the sacrifices.
“Good morning Captain Luca.” Carlos Rodriguez was my Chief Officer. The passengers kept calling him the “first mate,” but he would always joke that his name wasn’t Gilligan.
“Good morning, Number One.” I loved calling him that, we both loved Star Trek. “How are things looking this morning?”
&n
bsp; “Pretty good. All the departments are due to have their quarterly reports in, so I should know more later.”
“Sounds good. Let me know if there’s anything important that needs my attention.” I made my way over to the door of the small office I had on the bridge.
“Actually, Captain. There is one thing.” Carlos looked around at the other staff. “It’s of a personal nature.”
“Oh, sure. Come on in my office.” I held the door open for him as he stepped inside.
As he crossed the small room to the chair opposite my desk, I remembered the first time I set foot in here as captain. The navy blue carpet with the cruise line logo in the middle of the floor complimented the dark oak desk and naval flag on the wall behind it. I had an incredible window that, when we were at sea, gave me an expansive view of the horizon. Today, though, it faced a brick wall that loomed above the bustling dock.
“What’s up, Carlos?”
He sat down, running his hands through his jet black hair. Even though we were in port, he still wore a collared short-sleeved shirt and white uniform pants. “You remember I told you before that I was married, right?”
Given my own marital problems, this was the last sort of conversation I wanted to be having this morning. But, this wasn’t about me.
“I do. Robyn or something?”
“Yes. Robyn. We’ve been divorced for eighteen months now.” He had a pained expression on his face. “Nineteen, actually, but who’s counting?” He laughed sadly.
I waited for him to continue.
“So, the thing is, I was reviewing the passenger manifest, and I saw her name on it.”
“Maybe it’s someone by the same name?”
“Not likely. It was a Robyn Gwyndolen Katofsky. And her husband Jeffrey.”
“Yeah. There probably isn’t another married couple with those names. Does she not know you’re on the ship?”
“No, that’s just the thing. She does know. I just started here when we separated. She came to visit me once.”
Carlos had been working here since my predecessor, Jane Bittman had been captain.
“Why do you think they’re here, then?”
He shook his head. “I have no idea. Maybe to rub my face in their relationship or something? But, why wait two years?”
I shook my head too. “I can’t imagine. Would you like me to grant you leave for this cruise? Take a couple of weeks’ personal time?” I knew I wouldn’t want to see my ex gallivanting around with her new husband. It would be like Gianna coming around with someone else.
“No, no. I really want to review the quarterly reports. There are some issues I’d asked to be addressed and I want to see if they’ve been corrected. I just felt you should know that they were going to be on board.”
I nodded as he stood to leave. This was a hard career choice in terms of personal sacrifice. Almost every person who worked on this ship had to face leaving someone behind. Some left their families for months at a time to earn enough money to support them in countries that paid pennies for wages. Mothers left young children, spouses were torn apart. Infidelity was common and breakups happened during every sailing. Part of my job was to be a compassionate ear, but also make sure that no one’s personal issues affected the experience of our passengers. They were our first priority.
Sometimes I wondered if the price we had to pay to achieve that was too high.
3
Charlie: Date, Marry, or…?
“I can’t believe this.” Sam was fuming. “Why are we just sitting here? We’re going to miss our flight!”
We were sitting in bumper to bumper traffic on the 10 freeway. It backed up right past Vicksburg and we still had 75 miles to go. We’d taken Sam’s car because I didn’t want the Corvette to be sitting at the airport for almost three weeks while we were on the cruise.
“Waze says there’s an accident ahead and there’s a traffic break. Good thing we’re coming in a day early! Even if we miss this flight, the ship isn’t leaving for 36 hours.”
This didn’t help much, she just sat there scowling and gripping the steering wheel of her Toyota. I was in the passenger seat, sitting cross-legged drinking the last of the Jamba Juice we’d gotten before we left. I don’t usually drink smoothies, but the only other place that was open that early was McDonald’s.
We were too far out to get any radio signal, so I turned on the satellite radio on the dashboard. All of Sam’s presets were for country stations, which was one thing we didn’t have in common. But, it was her car, so I turned on a station I could stand and stared out the window. Hopefully, traffic would open up soon. Despite my cheery attitude, I didn’t relish the thought of missing our flight and spending unnecessary time at the airport.
“I’m going to turn the car off. This is stupid.” We hadn’t moved at all in twenty minutes. People were starting to get out of their cars and stretch.
“Fortunately it’s early still. Imagine if it were a hundred degrees!” I opened my car door and got out to try to see how far up the cars were stopped. It was further than I could see. Looking at my phone, I saw that we had about three hours before our flight departed. Even at full speed, we were an hour and a half away from Phoenix. In my car, we could have shaved some time off, but our buffer time was slipping away. Such is life when you live in a small town.
I slid back into my seat to Tim McGraw singing on the radio. Sam looked at me and said, “I’m sorry, Charlie.”
“This isn’t your fault, Sam.”
“I should have showered last night. We could have left earlier and avoided this mess.”
“And I could have skipped the Jamba Juice. It’s okay. This is just part of the fun of travel, right?”
She smiled sardonically. “Right. At least it’s not our luggage being lost or something?”
“See? There’s always a bright side.”
Just then, the line of cars started to move. We could hear people starting their engines and saw the glow of brake lights turning on.
“You should use that line in your speech,” Sam said, grinning at me.
“Hurry, Sam!” We parked her car, after circling the stupid structure for more than twenty minutes looking for a space. Since when was Phoenix such a busy airport?
Then, we raced through the airport only to be stopped by the TSA. I had TSA pre-check, but Sam did not.
“You go ahead,” she said, as we both looked at the insanely long line of people waiting to take off their shoes and belts and remove their laptops from their cases. The TSA pre-check line had maybe five people in it. “I can meet you at the gate.”
“Don’t be silly. What do I want to sit there all by myself for? I’ll stay with you. We can play that game we used to play when we were teenagers.”
“You mean Date, Marry, or Fuck?” It was our adaptation of the classic college game, “Fuck, Marry, or Kill” where you’d look at someone and decide if you wanted to sleep with them, marry them, or kill them. You’d get one pass, but then the other person could choose for you.
“Yeah. That one. Like that guy over there. Date, Marry, or Fuck?” I pointed to a nerdy-looking guy wearing a Sonic the Hedgehog t-shirt and socks under his sandals. He looked to be about thirty but was dressed like a teenager on the top and an old man on the bottom.
“Oh, God. Why did you have to pick him?”
I laughed and noted that the line was moving pretty quickly. “Because that’s the fun!”
“Okay. Well, maybe he wouldn’t be too bad to date.”
I nodded. “You’re right! I’m sure his mother would make you a nice pot roast and you could go back to his room and play Minecraft.”
“Fine, then. Your turn. What about that guy?” She pointed to an airline pilot.
“That guy? The bald pilot?” I thought pilots were supposed to be handsome. This guy looked like he should have been working in a cubicle in an accounting firm.
“Yeah. Him.”
I didn’t want to date or marry him. Let alone fuck him. �
��Pass.”
She grinned. “Okay then.” She looked around. “That guy.” She nodded her head to a man in a three-piece business suit. He was handsome enough, but a little short for my taste. I wasn’t the tallest girl around, but I had a thing for tall guys.
“Okay. What am I doing with him?” I had passed my turn, so she got to choose.
“Well, if you married him, he’d probably be traveling all the time. Looks like a management consultant type. He’s probably married anyway, so you wouldn’t want to date him. So that leaves fucking. You’ll just have a nice fling with him.”
The line moved, and we curved around and we got close enough to see his left hand. He was, indeed, married.
I shook my head. “No way. I’m not into married men. That is a recipe for disaster.” Even in a silly game, I wasn’t touching a married guy with a ten-foot pole.
“Excuse me. I think this is my seat?”
I had my earbuds in and was seated comfortably in my First Class aisle seat. Sam was next to me in the center seat, and we’d been hoping that no one would take the window seat. But, as I looked up, my heart sank. Not only did we have a seatmate, but it was Married Guy.
Moving my legs to the side so he could squeeze in, Sam had to stand to let him by. She grinned and looked at me, lifting her eyebrows.
“No,” I mouthed silently. She was funny.
We barely made the flight. After the lengthy line at TSA, Sam was randomly selected for a more thorough check. They’d taken her to a separate room, patted her down, looked through her stuff, and then left her to repack everything. I heard her arguing with them through the door.
Finally, she burst through, furious. “This is ridiculous. There was no reason for them to stop me.”
Then, the people mover was not working, so we had to run. Our gate was at the far end of the terminal and we could hear them announcing “Final boarding call for Flight 8532 to Miami.”
The Alpha's Second Chance Page 27