by Amber Crewes
Meghan shook her head. “I’m not going to kick you any harder, Jack,” she insisted.
“Just once? For me?” He pretended to pout, extending his lower lip in a childish fashion.
“Fine.”
Meghan took a step back, lifted her left leg, and gave Jack’s right ankle a hard kick. He let out a wail as he fell to the floor.
“Jack!” She cried out as she sank beside him. “Are you alright?”
He nodded weakly. “My girl is a fighter,” he said as he sat up, rubbing his tender ankle. “That was great, babe. You do that to anyone trying to hurt you, and you’ll win. They’ll fall to the ground.”
Meghan nodded. “This isn’t the honeymoon we signed up for, is it? Practicing self-defense? Avoiding murderers?”
He laughed. “Not quite, but babe, as long as we have each other, we’ll be all right. We just have to stay aware and be smart. And, if we make it out of this alive, I’ll take you on a second honeymoon later to make up for all of this.”
She bit her lip. “If we make it out of this alive?”
Jack stared into her eyes. “It was a joke, my love…”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “I’ll never be able to get back to sleep now,” she complained. “Let’s just start our day already.”
“Breakfast?”
“Yes, please.”
They both dressed and left the suite in search of a bite to eat. “Let’s try this place,” Jack gestured at a southern-themed restaurant. “A big southern breakfast sounds like just what I need after yesterday.”
They were seated at a diner-style booth. The server appeared with menus, and Meghan watched as Jack ordered three pancakes with whipped apple butter, four sausage links, five scrambled eggs, home-style biscuits and gravy, a waffle topped with whipped cream and cherries, and a tall glass of grapefruit juice.
“We’re on vacation,” he told her when she shot him a look. “We can stuff our faces. We’ll clean up our act when we get home. Promise.”
“And for you?” the server asked Meghan.
“I’ll have the breakfast salad, please.”
The server pursed her lips. “Are you sure? Our ricotta pancakes are to die for, and our basil tomato omelet has been a hit. Can I bring you something with a little more substance?”
“The salad, please,” Meghan repeated.
“Of course, I’ll be back with your drinks.”
The server walked away, and Meghan stared at Jack. “I’m trying to be healthier,” she explained to him. “I want to feel better about my body.”
Jack rolled his eyes. “This again? Babe, you have a great body. You are gorgeous; all of my friends give me a hard time for ending up with a beauty when I’m such a beast. Truly, honey, you are a princess, and you look like one, too.”
She shook her head. “Let’s just stop talking about this.”
The waitress brought Jack’s plates over first. “Bon appetite!” she said as she placed the plates in front of him.
The food looked delicious; Meghan’s mouth watered as she stared at the plate of sausages, and it took everything in her to resist reaching over and taking a bite of his waffle.
“Have some,” Jack urged her. “This is too much for me.”
“No,” she insisted as another server appeared. “Here is my food.”
The server placed a tray of fresh cinnamon rolls, croissants, and steaming bacon in front of Meghan. “The chef said you would need more than a salad,” the server explained. “Enjoy!”
Meghan’s dark eyes widened. She wanted to eat the breakfast, but she also wanted to be slimmer and more confident. “I’m going to take this tray back to the kitchen,” she decided as she stood up from the booth. “I’m going to exchange this for my salad.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive,” she told her husband, and she set off in a hurry.
She was walking so fast that she accidentally bumped into someone. “I’m so sorry,” she apologized as she nearly spilled the food.
“It’s fine, no worries.” It was Celia Hendon, the ship’s fitness instructor. “That’s a hearty breakfast you have,” she observed.
Meghan blushed. “It isn’t mine,” she told her. “I ordered a salad.”
Celia laughed. “Hey, no judgement here, girlie. I like a big breakfast before my workouts, and it is okay to indulge sometimes.”
Meghan smiled. “You’re Celia, right? Celia Hendon?”
“Guilty,” Celia smiled with sparkling eyes. “Have we met?”
Meghan turned to place the heavy tray down on an empty table. She reached back around to take Celia’s hand and shake it. “It’s nice to meet you,” Meghan gushed. “I’ve heard so many lovely things about you. I’m Meghan.”
“You’re too cute,” Celia said with the slightest air of condescension. “Hi, Meghan.”
Meghan felt hopeful as she shook Celia’s hand; it was clearly destiny that they had met in this restaurant, and Meghan wanted to take advantage of the moment.
“I just got married,” she informed the fitness instructor. “And I love my husband, and he loves me. I just don’t feel great about how I look…”
Celia stepped back and eyed Meghan’s body. “Tell me more,” she finally said. “What do you want to change?”
“A lot,” Meghan told her. “I’ve never been great about having a health and fitness routine, and I want to learn more. I hear that you are the best in the business, and I was hoping to meet you and set up some workouts while on the cruise.”
Celia grinned. “That’s my specialty,” she declared. “Look, you can’t make all of your healthy changes in one day, but we can definitely make some progress while you’re here. Let’s meet up in the gym later. What do you say?”
“Yes,” Meghan agreed. “This afternoon?”
Celia smiled warmly. “It’s a date.”
12
Meghan quivered as she stood in the lobby of the ship’s gym. Dressed in a pair of peach leggings and a matching long-sleeve athletic shirt, she felt anxious as she stared at the many glamorous posters of Celia Hendon on display.
“I’ll never be able to keep up with Celia,” she muttered as she watched a pair of fit women sashay out of the gym, neither looking as though they had broken a sweat. “This gym is for pretty, skinny people... not for me. I’m going to stand out like a sore thumb.”
Staring at a poster of Celia flexing her muscled biceps, Meghan reached over and pinched her own dark skin. It was soft and loose, and she shuddered. “This is going to be so embarrassing. Why did I sign up for this?”
The doors flew open, and a young couple entered the lobby. They were dressed in high-end workout attire, and Meghan admired their confidence as they strode up to the check-in desk and greeted the attendant.
“I wish I were that outgoing,” she thought as the couple high-fived before parting ways to enter the locker rooms. “They just walked in like they own the place.”
The attendant waved at Meghan. “Are you checking in? What’s your name?”
Meghan’s heart sank. She could go work out with Celia and feel embarrassed, or she could quietly go back to her room and pretend like this never happened. “I was just…”
“Waiting for me!”
Meghan saw Celia walk out of the women’s locker room with a smile on her face. “Cheryl, this is Meghan. We are training today.”
“Aah, Meghan, nice to meet you,” Cheryl greeted her. “Celia is the best of the best. You are a lucky gal.”
Celia grinned. “Are you ready for this, Meghan?”
Meghan’s eyes went down to the shiny white tile floors. “I’m not sure,” she admitted. “Everyone who has come in and out of here looks like a model. I’m just so... average. I don’t know if I belong here.”
Celia bit her lip, and she placed her hands gently on Meghan’s shoulders. “Meghan, look at me.”
Meghan looked into Celia’s big eyes.
“Fitness isn’t a competition. It’s a lif
estyle. My goal is to inspire you so you’ll make fitness a cherished element of your lifestyle.”
Meghan frowned. “I just don’t know if it will be possible for me…”
Celia shook her head. “Don’t listen to those doubts,” she ordered. “When you are in the gym, you aren’t competing with the girl next to you who looks like a model, or the marathon runner on the treadmill, or even the body-builder who is benching your weight. You are competing with yourself. Your goal should be to be better than you were yesterday. If you can do a little more each day, then you will have succeeded.”
Meghan felt a smile creep onto her lips. “You really think so?”
“I know so,” she winked. “Now, come on! Let’s start moving.”
Thirty minutes later, Meghan felt great as she finished a run on the treadmill. Celia had instructed her to do a short circuit with bodyweight exercises, followed by a slow jog on the treadmill. “I feel good,” she exclaimed as Celia helped her off the machine. “That was the perfect amount of exercise for me. I think my pace on the treadmill was the right speed for where my body is.”
“That’s fantastic,” Celia gushed. “You looked great during the bodyweight exercises, too. Your squats looked nice, and you have almost perfect form when you lunge.”
Meghan beamed. “Thank you so much, Celia. I’m so glad we did that. I was really nervous when I came in, but now, I feel so much better. I did it! I did a Celia Hendon workout.”
A look of confusion crossed Celia’s face. “No, you didn’t,” she corrected as she took a drink from the mini-fridge filled with cucumber infused water. “You did the warmup. We still have the entire workout to do, as well as the cool-down exercises.”
The color drained from Meghan’s face. “What?”
“You haven’t done the work out,” Celia repeated kindly. “That was the warm-up. Those were exercises you needed to do to prepare your body for the real work.”
“Oh,” Meghan replied. “So, there is more…”
“There is a lot more,” Celia informed her with a smile. “But it will be fun. We’ll start with one-hundred squats, a sprint around the track upstairs, one-hundred lunges, another sprint, and then a series of cardio intervals on the elliptical.”
“Oh my gosh,” Meghan croaked. “I don’t know if I can do that.”
“Sorry, not done,” Celia continued. “After the elliptical, we’ll sit you in the sauna for five minutes so you can burn out any toxins that have built up. After that, it’s back out to the track for a mile run at eighty percent pace.”
Meghan gasped. “I don’t think I can do all of that.”
Celia gave her a playful swat on the behind. “You can, and you will. Let’s go get started!”
An hour later, Meghan was panting as Celia clapped vigorously for her. “You did it, Meghan. I knew you could.”
Meghan wiped the sweat from her forehead. “I thought I was gonna die. You’re a killer, Celia.”
Celia beamed. “That’s my job. I’m proud of you. You had doubts, and you were nervous, but you tapped into the mindset of a winner. That’s the kind of client I love to have.”
“Really?”
“Really. And that’s the kind of friend I like to make. Now, my new friend, shall we grab some lunch?”
Meghan nodded. “Let’s do it.”
After quick showers in the gym locker room, they walked to Dressing, the trendy outdoor salad restaurant on the upper deck. It was the perfect day to enjoy a healthy lunch outside; the sun was shining, and the waters were smooth.
“I haven’t been here before,” Meghan told Celia. “What’s your favorite thing on the menu? I don’t want to overeat, of course, so I was thinking I would get the spinach salad with a quarter of a chicken breast. What do you think, Celia?”
Celia pursed her lips. “There are so many good options,” she moaned. “But my favorite lately has been the tuna and quinoa salad. It’s fresh fish, and they also have a feta cheese on top flown in from Greece.”
“Cheese? Quinoa?” Meghan asked in confusion. “Those aren’t healthy foods…”
Celia laughed. “Everything is fine in moderation,” she assured Meghan. “If you get stuck on salads and chicken breast, you’ll get bored. Boredom leads to binging. I try to balance my meals. I find it works best for me.”
Meghan smiled. “I never thought I would hear that from a world-class trainer.”
Celia winked. “Shhhh. We’re friends now, remember? I’m not just your trainer.”
They ordered their salads and settled into a booth overlooking the south end of the ship. Meghan liked the way the warm sunshine felt on her cheeks, and she leaned back comfortably in her seat. “This is the life.”
“Indeed,” Celia agreed. “So, what are you doing the rest of the day?”
Before Meghan could answer, she spotted Reuben and Oliver Winterburn’s wife walk into the restaurant. Her stomach sank, and she shifted nervously.
“You okay?”
Meghan gulped. “Not really,” she admitted. “I’m... going to go use the restroom. Excuse me.”
She hurried away from their booth and crept over to a giant potted plant that was perfectly positioned behind where Reuben and Mrs. Winterburn were waiting to be seated.
“We need to get the documents delivered,” Mrs. Winterburn hissed as Reuben nodded. “As soon as we hit the next port, this has to be done.”
Reuben shot her a dark look. “You don’t think I know that?”
Mrs. Winterburn raised an eyebrow. “Don’t speak to me like that, Reuben. You know I don’t appreciate that kind of tone.”
Reuben sighed. “Beth, I need you to trust me. I’ll get the documents delivered. I promise.”
Meghan’s heart pounded. What were they talking about? What kind of documents were they having delivered? Before she could find out, she heard a squeal.
“Hey!”
It was Celia; the fitness instructor had gotten up from the table and was coming her way. Meghan cringed. Celia was going to blow her cover, and there was nothing she could do about it as she cowered behind the potted plant.
13
“They’re going to see me,” Meghan worried as Celia drew closer, a smile on her face. “They’re going to know I’m watching them.”
“Reuben, Beth, what a pleasure,” Celia called out as she approached the pair. Meghan sighed in relief.
“Celia, hello, dear,” Beth Winterburn greeted her, kissing Celia on both cheeks. “How have you been?”
“Oh, you know how I am; I’m in the gym more than I’m not,” Celia replied. “And you two?”
“I need to get back to the gym,” Beth shrugged. “It’s been too long.”
“For me as well,” Reuben chimed in. “I’ve had a lot to do since... well... you know.”
“Oliver’s passing has affected Reuben quite hard,” Beth mentioned to Celia. “He’s absolutely devastated.”
Celia patted Reuben on the back. “I’m so sorry for your loss,” she consoled him. “And to you, Beth.”
Beth closed her eyes. “You know Oliver and I were separated, don’t you, Celia?”
Celia bit her lip. “I had heard that, but I never like to assume…”
Beth sighed. “Oliver and I were planning to reconcile on this voyage,” she confessed. “We had planned it out for months, and we were so hopeful, but now…”
Reuben shook his head. “Now, we’ll all have to get on without him.”
Celia frowned. “What a tragedy...”
Reuben turned to Celia. “Enough of this sad talk, though,” he insisted. “Let’s celebrate you, Celia. You’ve accomplished so much over the last few years. I’m so impressed by you, and I know Oliver was as well. Have you ever considered your next steps? What does life look like for you after the cruise days are over?”
She thought for a moment. “I’m not sure,” she told them. “I have a massive online following, but can I really cultivate that anywhere?”
Reuben grinned. “What ab
out... television? Have you thought about it? I think you should weigh the option of a television show, Celia. You would be brilliant, and I know you have enough A-list clients who could vouch for you and promote your show. In fact, with Oliver gone, I’ll be on the market for a new gig soon. I’ve learned a lot about marketing and promoting while on the road with him. I would be happy to help you...”
Celia’s eyes widened. “Do you really think people would watch me?”