His half smile said most girls wouldn’t be interested, and he thought it was cool I was. “It’s easy,” he said. “First you’ve gotta make sure the sink is drained; otherwise you’ll get wet. Then you unscrew the ends of the curved piece.” He finished doing it and showed me as he gently pulled it down. “Make sure that’s clear, then check the connecting pieces.” He removed a mass of something nasty from the pipe, which he tossed into the trash. “Easy.”
“Cool,” I said. It did, in fact, look pretty easy.
“You’re missing a beautiful sunset up there,” he said as he fitted the sink back together.
“Yeah.” I stood and stretched my legs. “But I’m close to the beer.”
He raised his brows. “And not so close to your friends?”
“Coworkers,” I corrected him.
“Mmm.”
“What’s that mean? Mmm?”
He shrugged.
“It’s not like they’ve exactly made an effort with me either,” I said.
“Okay.” He closed the cabinet and washed his hands in the sink.
“I used to make an effort. At my last job. But when I got fired, all those people I’d thought were my friends dropped me like a hot potato.”
“So, no more friends?”
I snorted. “What, are you my therapist?”
He raised his hands. “Just curious.”
“Curiosity killed the cat, you know.”
He held my gaze. “I’ll take that chance.”
Heat crept up my spine. “Anyway, shouldn’t you be steering the boat?”
He shook his head, a twinkle in his eye. “We dropped anchor. Which you would know if you weren’t down here belowdecks, sulking.”
My jaw fell at his brashness, and I found, despite myself, I was smiling. “I like to think of it as pouting.”
“Come with me.” He turned and headed up the stairs.
“Do I have to?” I called after him.
“No,” he returned, without looking over his shoulder.
But he was right. I was acting like a child. So I ascended the stairs after him, shielding my eyes as I emerged into the Technicolor rays of the setting sun.
“Up here.”
I followed the sound of Rick’s voice upward again to see him standing in the raised cockpit. I climbed the ladder with my beer in one hand, allowing him to pull me up over the last few rungs onto the deck beside him. The platform was just big enough for the two of us and a shallow bench, so high it felt like we were floating above the boat. The sky glowed coral and violet, reflecting in the calm sea. “You were right,” I breathed. “This is spectacular. It’s like we’re inside the sunset.”
He smiled that slow smile. “A little better than the view from the galley.”
Below us, Felicity and Jackson leaned on the railing of the bow, looking out toward the horizon, their heads inclined toward each other. I’d noticed them spending more and more time together over the course of the week, which only made me more suspicious of Felicity’s motives. But truth be told, Jackson was pretty lust-worthy, and Felicity had been nothing but helpful and gracious all week, so perhaps my paranoia was unfounded.
Cole and Madison reclined on a lounger at the stern with their backs to us, thankfully. The last thing I needed was shit from Cole for hanging out with Rick, and I knew he’d relish the opportunity to dish it out. I observed them for a moment, wondering what two narcissists could possibly be discussing so animatedly. Themselves, likely. For once Madison’s phone was out of sight and she wasn’t posing. On second glance, I realized she was posing, only not for the camera, but for Cole, doubtless hoping a dalliance would thrust her further into the spotlight. Great.
But where was Stella? I leaned over the railing and gazed down to see her laid out on the front of the boat, asleep. My stomach suddenly flipped at the height. Dizzy, I reached out to steady myself and found Rick’s strong arms around me. “Easy there.” I felt his deep voice reverberate in his chest. I eased myself onto the padded bench, flustered. He sat beside me. “You okay?”
I nodded, a part of me wishing I’d stayed sulking in the kitchen. “Not great with heights.”
The sky reflected bronze in his concerned eyes, and I…couldn’t look away. “Do you want to go back down?”
I shook my head, horrified to register that what I wanted, more than anything, was his arms around me again. But he had a girlfriend. I wouldn’t make that mistake a second time. “I like it up here.” I ripped my gaze from his and studied my hands. The manicure I’d gotten a week ago was ragged and chipped. “Sorry. I swear I’m not usually this incapable. First you have to save me from drowning, and now I can’t handle a ten-foot height.”
“No need to apologize.”
God, he seemed so genuine. But he’s not.
He pointed out to sea, blissfully unaware of the war going on inside me. “Dolphins.”
Not fifty feet from our boat, a pod of dolphins played, their sleek bodies rising in crescents from the water. I heard a squeal of excitement from the deck as the others spotted them. We watched as four adults and two babies dove and jumped, kicking up glittering flecks of peach-tinted water.
“Beautiful,” I murmured at their frolicking, feeling the tension drain from my shoulders. I was being silly about Rick. He was just friendly. And it might be nice to have a friend. A very attractive friend, yes, but as long as we were just friends, no harm done. I’d read too much into his interest in me, the result of too many romance novels and not enough actual romance. But this was neither the time nor the place. I took a breath and watched Felicity and Jackson laughing, their arms grazing each other, pointing at the dolphins. I lowered my voice. “What do you think of Felicity?”
“Which one is she?”
I indicated.
“Haven’t talked to her.” He shrugged. “She’s hot, and Jackson’s obviously into her. She’s one of the actresses?”
I laughed. “Funny you ask. She claims not to be, but she’s been working as Stella’s stand-in all week, and…”
“You don’t believe her. You think she’s after something?”
“Too talented, too pretty, too nice,” I confirmed. “I don’t trust her.”
Rick laughed so hard that Felicity and Jackson turned and looked up at us. I waved. “Nice view up there?” Jackson asked.
“Gorgeous,” I confirmed.
“Too bad we don’t have any scenes set on a boat,” Felicity chimed in.
Jackson looked at her as though that were the most wonderful idea he’d ever heard. Oh Lord, scenes on a boat were the last thing I needed. I caught his eye and rubbed my fingers together to signify money.
Felicity said something to him that I couldn’t hear, and he laughed, turning away from us. Despite my suspicions about her, I couldn’t for the life of me figure out what it was she might want from Stella, who could hardly get herself a job these days, bless her heart.
“Not everybody has ulterior motives,” Rick whispered, as though he’d been reading my thoughts.
Damn it, I liked his breath on my ear. It made me think of his breath on other parts of my body. I batted the thought away. If I couldn’t control my attraction, then I wouldn’t be able to hang out with him anymore, and that really would be unfortunate. I liked his company.
I leaned forward to see Stella still dozing on the cushioned nose of the boat below us. “She’ll sleep it off by the time we get back,” Rick said.
I sighed. “She’s supposed to be sober. Her insurance requires it.”
“Oh,” he said.
I leaned my head against the railing and groaned. “I should have been babysitting instead of hiding.”
“Give yourself a break. The insurance company can’t exactly turn up without warning out here.”
“I’m more worried that Madison will post something compromising. She films nonstop.”
“Nothing illegal about taking a nap on a boat,” he assured me. “I do it all the time.”
“Did yo
u notice if Felicity was the one giving her alcohol?”
He shrugged. “I wasn’t paying that much attention. I did see her hand her a pill earlier though.”
I felt a twinge of guilt for talking about Stella behind her back. She was fragile and not incredibly easy to work with, but she wasn’t as demanding as I’d initially thought, and shockingly, was doing exceptional work when she could recall her lines. After reading about her antics in the past, I was pleasantly surprised by her professionalism, especially when playing opposite Cole, who seemed to run hot and cold toward her. She wasn’t great at taking (or perhaps, remembering) direction, but she didn’t need a lot—Jackson had clearly written the role with her in mind. She was Marguerite, an insecure star grappling with aging while watching her husband transfer his affection to a younger version of herself, and often the bits she improvised were better than the written dialogue. I could also tell that Stella liked Madison even less than I did, and I looked forward to watching her seek revenge on her younger nemesis in the later scenes.
“She may not be sober, but she’s perfect in her role, and luckily the script supervisor’s smitten with her, so she’s always close by to feed her lines.”
“You notice everything, don’t you?” he asked.
“I’m sorry. I must be boring you to tears with my work drama.”
“Not at all,” he said. He pointed surreptitiously at Cole. “How’s that one been?”
“Exactly how you’d think, I imagine,” I returned. “Camera loves him and he was born to play his role as a temperamental playboy genius, but I’m still not convinced he’s read the script, and he won’t listen to a thing Jackson says.”
To his credit, Jackson was apparently prepared for this reality—it was his idea to shoot in chronological order so his father would know what the hell was going on, and he instructed our cinematographer to roll early and cut late on every take, which would give the editors more to work with. Still, Cole’s performance was haphazard, and the romantic scenes we’d shot all week setting up Peyton and Marguerite’s love story, her pregnancy, and their move to the islands would require some heavy revision so he’d appear smitten rather than smug. We’d filmed only fifteen pages of a ninety-page script so far, and I could already tell postproduction was going to be a beast.
I drained the rest of my beer and rubbed my temples. “Be glad you’re not in film. It’ll eat your life.”
“Then why do you do it?”
“I’m beginning to wonder that myself,” I admitted. “I mean, I got into it because it’s really exciting, creating a world from the ground up. Working with a team, everyone in on the same secret…It’s fun, when you’re working with the right people. And you know about my dad. I guess I always wanted to follow in his footsteps. But enough about me,” I said, realizing I was running my mouth like I had on my deck the other night. “You have a dad?”
He laughed. “Yeah.”
“Tell me about him.”
“He’s a fisherman. Taught me everything I know about boats. He’s got white hair, a white beard, and a belly. The kids call him Santa.”
I laughed. “Any of those kids yours?”
“No. I’m the last man standing.”
“You don’t want kids?”
“We’ll see. I couldn’t be birthing them myself.”
But JeanieBabie24 would be happy to oblige, I thought.
“What about you?”
I shook my head. “I’m one of those career girls you hear about, shirking their reproductive duties to play ball with the boys.”
That line usually elicited some sort of objection, but it didn’t seem to bother him. “I see.”
“It’s hard enough trying to hold my own and take care of myself.” I sighed, remembering my hazy evening with Cole. At least I hadn’t slept with him, thank God. “I’m a mess.”
His smile was enigmatic. “If you say so.”
Out over the ocean, the sun melted into the horizon like a pat of butter on a hot pancake.
“Sorry for talking your ear off. Again.” The beer had clearly loosened my tongue. Perhaps I should return to sobriety for the remainder of the shoot.
But once more, he didn’t seem bothered. “Anytime.” His gaze was steady. “No apologizing.”
I nodded. “Right. Sorry.”
June 22, 2019
Stella
I wasn’t sure how long I’d been asleep on the bow when Felicity roused me, but it was dark, the boat had docked, and all the others had disembarked. I was disoriented and annoyed that she’d let me sleep in front of everyone like that. Had I snored? Was my mouth gaping open? God, how unflattering! It was humiliating.
The half-moon was low over the water, and the wind had picked up as we trudged through the powdery sand toward our bungalow. “No one thought anything of it,” Felicity assured me. “You were tired. You’ve had a long week. We all have.”
“But no one else fell asleep. What if I’m in one of Madison’s stupid videos, snoring?”
I could sense her rolling her eyes in the dark. “People sleep, Stell. And you weren’t snoring.”
We walked along the shore past the rock outcropping that separated the tranquil bay from deeper waters, waves warm as bathwater lapping at our ankles. Clouds had gathered over the island, but the stars out over the ocean shone like diamonds flung across the sky. It was unfortunate that I could hardly appreciate the peaceful setting for the tension headache gnawing at my brain. “My head hurts,” I complained. “Is it time for a pill yet?”
Felicity checked her watch. “You have an hour on the A-pill, two on the D-pill.”
Ugh. The anxiety and depression pills were the best. “What about a P-pill?”
“Are you in pain?”
“I just told you my head hurts,” I reminded her, annoyed.
“If you need it,” she said. “But you know you can’t mix it with any of the others.”
I swore she wasn’t this annoying back in LA. “Damn pill Nazi,” I complained, kicking a shell into the sea. My tummy rumbled. “What time is it? I’m starving.”
“It’s past eight,” she said as I followed her up the wooden stairs to the pier that led over the water to our bungalow. “Everyone ate on the boat.”
I sighed, exasperated. “Great, so I missed dinner too.”
“I’m sorry.” She stopped to rummage in her bag in the soft glow of one of the tiki torches that lined the pier, finally extracting our room key. “I know you’ve been having trouble sleeping at night. I thought you could use the rest.”
“No, you thought you could use some time off to flirt with Jackson.” Her mouth opened, as if in surprise. But her stupefaction only irritated me further. “What, do you take me for a fool? You think I haven’t noticed the two of you flirting all week? It’s obvious.”
She looked up and down the empty walkway and lowered her voice. “I wasn’t trying to hide anything from you.”
I raised my hands, unable to stop the words from tumbling out. “You don’t want anyone to hear your secrets, but you let me fall asleep in front of everyone,” I snapped.
“Can we talk about this inside?” she begged.
“No.” I stood my ground. “I’m going to get something to eat because someone didn’t wake me for dinner.”
“It’s going to rain,” she said, indicating the clouds hovering over the resort.
I held out my hand. “My pills.”
She sighed. “Which do you need?”
“All of them.”
“You know it’s not time,” she protested.
“They’re my pills,” I hissed. “Hand them over.”
She fished in her bag––an expensive YSL tote I gave her, coming up with the little blue leather pouch that held my pills. “Please don’t do anything stupid.”
“I’m not a child.” I shoved the bag in my purse, then turned on my heel and marched down the pier. “Do you have a key?” she hollered after me.
“Don’t need one,” I called over m
y shoulder. “You’ll be home to let me in. And make sure you feed and walk Mary Elizabeth.”
I chuckled to myself as I tromped across the sand and threaded my way between the up-lit palm trees toward the restaurant. Any plans Felicity’d had to go out tonight were now ruined, and I wasn’t sorry. Who did she think she was? She was here to take care of me, not the other way around.
A fat raindrop hit my face, and then another. I unscrewed the top of a medicine bottle without checking to see which it was and dumped a pill on my tongue as I plodded up the stairs to the pool, impervious. I wouldn’t let a little rain ruin my night. I’d had a nap and I was going to enjoy myself.
Rain pocked the surface of the fluorescent blue pool, casting the courtyard in flickering luminescence. The two lone guys playing Ping-Pong under the wide eaves of the lobby waved as I passed, and I blew them a kiss. One of them pretended to catch it and slap it on his cheek. I laughed. I was feeling better already.
Energized by the prospect of a lively evening at a lovely restaurant, I threw open the door.
My heart sank. The scene was anything but lively. It was dark and quiet, illuminated only by the backlit bar that lined most of the wall to my right. The tables were empty, the windows that faced the beach closed to the coming storm outside. Caribbean jazz played softly over the sound system, barely audible above the sound of the rain on the roof. The lone man at the bar turned and raised his glass to me.
It was Cole.
My stomach did an unexpected flip. Sure, we’d been working together for a week—staring into each other’s eyes, kissing, stroking each other’s nearly naked bodies—and we obviously still had chemistry. But all that was pretend, for the cameras, in front of an audience. Up till now, we hadn’t once been truly alone together.
In fact, I hadn’t been alone with him since the night he left, thirteen years ago. I forced the memory from my mind.
“Come have a drink,” he beckoned to me, slapping the leather barstool beside him. “No one’s looking.”
I sized him up as I crossed the room. Cole could just as easily play the villain or the hero, and it was crucial to know which you were engaging with. Though I’d often known the wolf in him to dress in sheep’s clothing, so even when he was at his most charming, it was advisable to keep your wits about you. I slid onto the barstool next to his. “Where is everyone?”
The Siren Page 14
