by Deb Lee
Ryan’s thoughts flashed to Sophie. How she felt cradled in his arms and how she’d left him lonely again. “Something like that,” Ryan said, kneading his fingers deeper into his neck.
“Those hula dancers, right?” the man said. “It was my lucky night. They were here for a bachelorette party. You get enough fireballs in them, and wow, they can plow you harder than a harnessed ass on a Kansas field. Know what I mean?”
Ryan felt his face tighten, trying desperately to stop the images burning in his mind. “That’s enough, man.” Ryan held up his hands with a desperate plea to protect his ears. “I’m good on the details.”
Except he wasn’t good. He couldn’t remember much after Sophie left.
How had he’d ended up sleeping on the Lido Deck, on a hard, plastic lounge chair? He loosened his tie and remembered Sophie had walked to her room. After he almost kissed her.
“Wicked awesome night.” The pot-bellied man guffawed before setting off.
Ryan stepped over the chaise lounge next to his and knocked over two empty bottles of scotch. He tensed, he hadn’t ordered those, right? He couldn’t have. He’d vowed long ago not to be a drunk like his father. He’d have to check his bill later.
The eardrum-bursting horn went off again and Ryan ducked as if someone just hollered “Fore” on a golf course. He cringed. What happened last night?
“Welcome to Catalina Island,” a crewmember in a crisp, white uniform said as he passed Ryan, reading something on a clipboard.
“Hey,” Ryan called after him. “What time is it?”
Without stopping, or looking up, the guy answered, “Quarter to six.”
“Thanks.” Ryan stood and shook off the rest of his aches. He would go back to his suite, change, and pop some Ibuprofen for his headache. Then, he thought with an unsettled pull in his chest, he’d call Phil.
~ ~ ~
Watching the massive, two hundred ton ship dock from the quiet, padded, obnoxious running track—I mean really, who exercises on vacation?—gave Sophie perspective. She clutched the banister, twisting and massaging her dry palms against the smooth wood like a reflexology treatment, and looked out at the peaceful city in the glowing horizon. The repetitive twisting somehow settled the softball-sized knots building in her chest.
She’d decided to quit the scavenger hunt. Continuing the game seemed futile, not to mention deceptive, and it was stirring too much anxiety. She couldn’t afford to lose control again. She’d figure out another way to pay rent. But lying wasn’t it.
Spending time with Ryan last night made her come alive. The comfort of his touch and the feel of his breath against her lips . . . it made the scavenger hunt seem juvenile and senseless.
Sophie smiled to herself as she replayed last night’s stargazing in her head like a movie trailer. She touched her lips wondering how sweet his kiss would have tasted. As much as she wanted him to kiss her, she wasn’t sure that was a good idea. They had too much history, a subject neither of them broached. Which was probably for the best.
Especially when the thought of their past compromised her sobriety, sending her stomach swirling into the great abyss. History had a weird way of repeating itself.
Plus, he would be back in San Antonio soon. Even if she were willing to give them another chance, she couldn’t, knowing that he was leaving. It didn’t make sense to fall for him again, no matter what her heart felt. Her feelings didn’t matter. Grandmoo always said ‘feelings don’t have brains,’ and the logical side of her knew that.
“Catching the morning sunrise?” Asher’s voice drew her from her memory and sent a prickle down her spine.
She turned to see Asher in running shorts with a towel over his shoulder. Ficus. What does it take to lose this guy?
“You’d be surprised how fast I can still run, even with an injured toe, thank you for that again, by the way.”
“Oh yeah? Can your injured toe swim, too? Because that water looks mighty inviting.”
Asher laughed and leaned over the railing, folding his hands.
Sophie slid a step in the opposite direction. “What do you want, Asher?”
“I’ve just been thinking.”
“Does it hurt?”
Asher stifled a laugh and turned so his back was leaning against the rail. “I get it. You’re pissed. I deserve that much.”
Sophie narrowed her eyes. What was he doing? Of course she was pissed. He’d spent the past week torturing her. Why was he acting all chivalrous now? “I’m going back to my room.” Sophie pushed off the rail and headed for the steps.
“I owe you an apology. I messed up when I kissed Trixie.”
Sophie froze. Was he kidding? An apology? The YouTube video with its hundreds of thousands of views said as much. His hands on Trixie. His mouth covering hers. The prickle grew barbs as it tore flesh at the memory. She turned around. “No.” She shook her head. “I don’t accept.”
“I don’t blame you. But I’ve been thinking about it. And I’m really sorry. I’m a guy. It happens.”
Sophie scrunched her forehead. “Excuse me? What happens?”
“Trixie came on to me. You were too busy to even attend the party, and that put me in a vulnerable position. Trixie walked over to me, handing me a drink. I didn’t want to be rude so I accepted. We started talking, and one thing led to another . . . You were at that café, and I was alone.”
That café? If he was trying to apologize, calling her lifeline ‘that café’ was not a good place to start. “I was working.”
“Like you always are. But it wasn’t my fault. She kissed me. I didn’t see it coming. And I didn’t expect you to be there.”
This had to be a joke. Sophie half-expected a cameraman to pop out and some stupid prankster yell ‘Surprise!’ “But you kept kissing her. And then you pretty much dumped me.”
“I didn’t dump you. I just said we weren’t exclusive. That’s all.”
Sophie rolled her eyes. “No, when you kiss another woman and stick your wandering hands where they don’t belong, that’s a non-verbal gesture expressing the end of a relationship.”
Sophie didn’t know who to feel worse for. Herself for being dumb enough to get involved with Asher, or him for being the stupidest Neanderthal to walk to Earth. He’d been busted for cheating on her and now he was trying to explain his behavior away. But why? “What do you want?”
Asher shrugged. “Nothing from you. But I do want to warn you.”
Warn her about what? Sophie sighed, not sure why she was giving him any of her time. “I’ll give you thirty seconds.”
Asher inched closer to Sophie’s bubble. “No doubt you heard by now I took the triple points in the scavenger hunt last night.”
Sophie writhed. “Are you here to rub my nose in it? That doesn’t follow an apology very well. Besides, no doubt you heard, I don’t care. I quit, and you should too since we’re not supposed to participate.”
“No, I’m not trying to rub your nose in anything.” Asher stepped in front of her and folded his arms. “Just thought you should know your boy was getting mighty comfortable with our office teases after the luau.”
Sophie scoffed. “So, you’re spreading rumors now? Nice. You’re about as reliable as a gold-digging source looking for a quick buck.” Asher was probably baiting her, and she wasn’t about to take the hook. Not this time. “Ryan is free to do as he pleases.”
“I call it like I see it, Soph.”
But her heart still sped with the visual of Ryan with Thelma and Louise. A bolt of anger shot through her. “And you have a knack for seeing it wrong.”
“So then it wouldn’t bother you that he was at the bar last night drinking it up with them?”
“Go away, Asher.”
“Hmm.” Asher shrugged. “All right. Just sharing what I
saw. Don’t shoot the messenger.”
Sophie headed for the stairs. “I’m not involved with Ryan. And since last Friday your word is no longer good with me. I see your mouth moving and immediately wonder what you’re lying about. So, goodbye.”
Feeling all I am woman hear me roar, Sophie made an abrupt turn and took to the steps with a little too much gusto. Just before she hit the bottom, she lost her footing and slipped, missing the last two stairs. She landed right on her tailbone. Hard.
“Hey, are you okay?” Asher called down.
Sophie jumped up, rubbing her butt. Anger flooded through her like a roaring fire thirsting for gasoline. “Fine.”
“Seriously, that looked painful,” Asher said, slithering down the steps.
“I’ll live.” She rubbed it for a good moment and decided it was just her ego that was bruised. She could have lost an arm in a shark attack and wouldn’t have asked Asher for so much as a Band-Aid. She did, however, smile at his slight limp from where his foot met her door. I hope your foot gets gangrene and you have to amputate it.
“Listen, take it for what its worth, but I thought you’d like to know what was in an email I received from a news channel up north I applied for.”
Asher was seeking new employment? This was good news. “You’re leaving?”
Asher lifted a shoulder. “It doesn’t take rocket science to see where Up Front is headed. Not with subscription rates plummeting.”
“What did you hear?”
“That Over the Top, Inc., is going another direction. That includes closing the café, which is why your funding was cut. I thought you should hear it from someone who cares.”
Sophie’s eyes narrowed until they were mere slits. “Stop talking about things you know nothing about. No one can close the café because Up Front carries the business license and pays the bills—not Over the Top. So, I’d appreciate it if you left me alone.”
Asher threw his hands up. “Okay. I know the timing sucks, but you should know I do care. I know you’re mad at me, and I’m sorry for that, but you should at least know. Ryan’s not as perfect as he seems.”
That’s it. Sophie had heard enough. She inched up to Asher and stuck her finger in his face, the fire building within boiling over. “Don’t. Talk. To. Me. And stay out of my café’s business.”
And she walked away. But even as she did, she couldn’t unhear what Asher had said. What if he was even partially right about Ryan and the café? And what if corporate did close Up Front? What would that mean for the café and for her job?
For everyone’s job?
Chapter 22
“Here.” Amy placed a steaming cup of coffee in front of Sophie’s nose. “Double shot, vanilla soy frothy goodness. It’s good for the soul.”
“You’re a godsend.” Sophie took the microscopic porcelain cup and let the steam open her nostrils. “And a terrible friend, I might add. Where were you last night?”
Amy sat next to her. Sophie had arrived at the training a few minutes early so she could secure a seat in the back. The room was efficiently set up like a classroom with a wall-to-wall white board in the front. It had eight tables in all, two rows with four tables each. It was cramped, which was probably typical for cruise ships. Who wanted to waste space on a meeting room when they could add a climbing wall or a useless running track for the guests?
“I’m sorry. I flaked, I know.”
“You missed the party and then when I looked for you, you were nowhere to be found. What happened to our plan?”
Sophie took a long sip of her coffee and let the warmth fill her soul. After listening to Asher’s lies this morning and still not hearing any good news regarding her grants, her nerves were on edge. Coffee may not be the best idea for settling her jitters, but an elephant-sized tranquilizer wasn’t available.
“I was, um, caught up face-timing with Mark. I had to go to the back of the ship to get any reception. And it was so beautiful and quiet, I just lost track of time. Before I knew it, it was midnight. You forgive me?”
The room slowly filled as her coworkers trickled in. Even Asher slithered in, sitting in the furthest seat from her. Good.
She sipped her coffee. “I don’t know. What’s in it for me?”
“I’ll name my firstborn after you.”
“Done. Tell Mark to get busy. I need my namesake before I get too old to be the cool auntie.”
“I’m planning on having enough kids to form a softball team.”
“You have fun with that. I’ll stick with the two point five kids I’ll statistically have.”
“Good morning, everyone,” Ryan said, moving to the front of the meeting room. “I hope everyone had a good time at the cocktail party last night.”
The gossip girls, who sat at the first table closest to Ryan, giggled.
Sophie made a face behind her cup and slid deeper in her chair.
Amy leaned over. “Why are they giggling? What’d I miss?”
Sophie sneered. Her chest tightened. She was not good at the jealously thing. “I don’t know,” she whispered. “Asher said they were being friendly with Ryan last night.”
“Tramps.”
“I know, right?”
“Don’t let it get to you,” Amy reassured Sophie with a nudge. “And don’t listen to Asher. I bet he’d pit his parents against each other if it’d get him what he wants.”
Bless that head of hair. Sophie could be in prison for knocking over a 7-11 and Amy would make it seem as though it was the 7-11’s fault.
“He’s got eyes for you. Trust me.”
“He almost kissed me last night,” Sophie said, hiding behind her cup. She sipped her coffee and let that little nugget soak in.
Amy’s head snapped her way so fast, you’d think she would have injured her brain. “Shut up! What happened?”
“Shhh,” Tyler from the entertainment department warned.
“Is there something you two would like to share with the group?” Ryan asked. He’d displayed an image of a bar graph on the white board from his laptop and was pointing to Up Front’s numbers versus competing magazines. Ugh, graphs and numbers hurt Sophie’s head.
“Sorry,” Amy answered for both of them. “We were discussing how to enhance readership with the younger generation.”
Amy nudged her phone and motioned for Sophie to continue the conversation via text.
Tell me everything.
Nothing happened.
Bull. U better spill it.
Seriously, he didn’t seal the deal and it’s a good thing. I can’t get involved right now. There’s 2 much history and I can’t go there. Not with the café hanging on by a thread and besides, he makes me crazy.
Amy scowled. That means he’s perfect. A man who doesn’t evoke emotion is wasted time. If Ryan has U crazy, U need 2 explore that.
Sophie stared at the words on her phone’s screen. She couldn’t. Even if she wanted to, the timing was off. Something with Ryan still felt off. And until a grant or miracle came through she needed to think about how to pay rent this month.
Sophie changed the subject. What are we doing today? I am not leaving without you. Yesterday was a mess.
We’ll come back 2 this conversation, but I know. I wasn’t going 2 say anything. But wow, YouTube sensation 2x in a week. New record.
Sophie dropped her phone. “You saw it?” she whispered.
“Last night. Mark tagged me.”
Sophie rubbed her eyes. “Ugh, what is wrong with lookie-loos? Can’t people just do stupid things in the privacy of their own bubble and leave it at that?”
Amy offered a sincere smile. “Not for you, I guess.”
“Whatever. So, want to go horseback riding? I hear that’s the thing to do here.”
Amy d
ropped her eyes and played with her phone. “Don’t hate me.”
Sophie darted her a look of distain. “Then don’t try to tell me you’re not coming.”
“Eh-hem.” Tyler shot them a death stare. Ryan stopped talking again and looked from Amy to Sophie.
“Sorry,” Sophie said this time, using her best don’t be mad you wanted to kiss these lips last night smile.
Ryan’s return grin sent a swirl of delight through her core. His dimples were nearly impossible not to gawk at. She’d imagined herself feeling the natural indents in his cheeks just before she’d kiss him. God, what is he doing to me?
Amy slid a piece of notebook paper toward Sophie. It read:
Have to work. Got an email from Red insisting I add the Golden Gate Color Run and some crab feed to my column by deadline. He wants the whole piece rewritten. Sorry, bestie.
Sophie figured Red was probably stressed. He wasn’t usually so anal, but this just proved that something was up.
I’ll just hang back and help then, Sophie wrote back.
“No you won’t. You need to get out of here and do something fun.” When John—Meal Time on Your Dime column—looked over at them, Amy held up a warning finger and he looked away, grumbling.
Sophie twisted her lips. “What I need to do is check in with the girls.” And as if she conjured the call herself, her phone buzzed. The caller ID read Charlie. “I need to take this.” Sophie quietly slid her chair back and slipped out of the room just as Ryan was lecturing about being present in the moment and limiting distractions. Sorry, she shot him a thought-apology and closed the door behind her.
“Hey, Charlie, what’s up?”
“Don’t freak out,” Charlie squealed.
Sophie’s stomach instantly sank. She hesitated a moment, as if replying too fast could detonate a bomb. After the false alarm yesterday, she tried to relax a bit and not jump to worse-case scenarios. But the sound in Charlie’s voice was anything but relaxed. “What’s wrong? Are you okay? Who’s dead?”