A Night to Forget

by Jessica Wood

  “Ladies, would you care for some Dom Pérignon?” he asked.

  We each happily took a glass before walking around. The champagne was delicious, and before I knew it, I was on my second glass. The bubbles from the champagne made me giddy, which made me want to drink more.

  I noticed the other girls were also equally giddy. Steph was chatting to the promoter who gave us the tickets. Gloria was talking to the bartender, a handsome man who looked to be in his early 30s. Jill was giggling and talking to a hot blonde who resembled the actor Alex Pettyfer.

  Before long, my head was slightly spinning and I decided to sit down for a minute. I was not sure how many glasses of champagne I had consumed, but at that moment, I had not seemed to care. I was relaxed and I sighed deeply. The cool ocean breeze felt nice against my warm face and my thoughts gravitated towards him again. The man of my dreams. I felt a pang of disappointment shoot through the hazy fog of my drunken stupor. Did I really see him that day on the beach? If so, how come I haven’t seen him since then?

  I felt a warm tear roll down my cheeks and realized that I was crying. Emma, get it together! He’s probably not even real, and it was all just another silly dream. More tears were falling now. God, it must be the champagne because why else am I acting like some obsessed psycho and crying so much.

  “Emma?”

  I looked up, and for a second, I was confused by my surroundings. It was Jill, and a flash of concern crossed her face. “What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

  “No,” I said as I quickly wiped the tears from my face. “I think I’ve had just a little too much champagne.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes. Really I am. Don’t worry,” I said.

  “Okay. Well, the boat is here and it’s leaving in 30 minutes, so we need to get on board soon. Are you ready?”

  “Well, I should go to the restroom and fix my makeup,” I said.

  “Do you want me to come with you?” Jill asked.

  “No, you guys go ahead. I can meet you on the boat. See, I have my ticket right here,” I said as I pulled out my booze cruise tickets from my purse.

  Jill looked at me unconvinced.

  “Really, don’t worry. I’ll just be a few minutes behind you guys,” I said. I got up and gave her a hug before I head back inside the hotel to look for the restroom. “I’ll see you soon.”

  ***

  “Shit!” I said in disbelief as I watched the cruise ship moving further away from the beach several hundred yards away.

  It had taken me awhile to follow the directions to the restroom, and once I found it, I seemed to have lost track of time, because by the time I got out to the shore, the cruise ship had already left.

  “I’m sorry, señorita,” the man at the dock said. “The booze cruise was scheduled to leave at 6 p.m. and it’s already 6:20 p.m.,” he said as he pointed at his watch.

  My shoulders hunched in disappointment, and I was at a loss for words. How did this happen? This is not how imagined my last night in Cancun to be. Okay, so maybe I secretly imagined spending my last night in Cancun with him, but I was expecting to at least have a great time with my best friends. And neither was going to happen. What a mess.

  “Señorita?” the man from the dock spoke up again.

  I looked up at him, the feeling of disappointment was palpable in the air that surrounded me.

  “I spoke with the cruise ship captain. He said that your friends wanted to see that you’re okay. Would you like to talk to them?” he asked.

  “Yes, please,” I said weakly.

  He handed me his portable communication device, which was already crackling with sound.

  “Ohmygod, Emma?” said a voice through the device.

  “Steph?”

  “Emma, are you okay? We thought you got on the ship first because we ended up taking a detour with some guys, but couldn’t find you when we got on the ship. What happened?” Steph asked with concern.

  “I don’t know. I think I got lost finding the restroom and then lost track of time, and by the time I got to the dock, the ship had already left,” I said, disappointment flooding through my body a second time.

  “That’s horrible! Is there anything we can do? Can they bring you out to the boat with a jet ski or something? There must be something they can do,” Steph said, an air of defiance in her voice.

  “No, I don’t think so,” I said and tried to keep my voice light and upbeat. “It’s really okay. This was my fault. Please don’t worry and have fun tonight! I’ll just have some drinks at the Omni, walk around the beach, and talk to some people,” I continued, trying to sound convincing.

  There was a pause on the other line.

  “Steph, trust me, I’ll be fine here. Please have some extra fun for me, okay? And tell Jill and Gloria to not worry and to have fun.”

  “Emma, they must be able to—”

  “Really, have fun tonight. Hey, I gotta run, love you,” I interrupted quickly and then clicked the device off. If I stayed on the phone any longer, I knew I would not be able to hold back my tears.

  I handed the phone over to the man at the dock and thanked him.

  I then returned to the outdoor bar at the Omni, and ordered two shots of tequila. When the waiter brought the shots, I immediately downed one and grimaced as the alcohol burned on its way down.

  I let out a deep sigh. I was devastated and had never felt my spirits so low.

  ARGH! Where is he? The second the thought popped into my head, I knew that my disappointment had nothing to do with missing the booze cruise tonight—I was heartbroken over him.

  For the last couple of months, he had consumed my dreams, my thoughts, and my life.

  Then I saw him a few days ago on the beach, and the minute I realized that he was actually real and that he was right here in Cancun, I thought that this must have been a sign—a sign that maybe there was something more to my dreams, that maybe he was the one that I’ve been waiting for.

  It was serendipitous, I had told myself. It was fate. And over the last few days, these thoughts became more pronounced as he became more of a reality in my mind—and in my heart. In fact, I had caught myself daydreaming about our future together. Our future? I shook my head, and downed the second tequila shot.

  By this point, I couldn’t even register the taste. What was I thinking? I was 22, not some lovesick teenager. How could I possibly think that fairy tales could come true? Think about what happened to you that night years ago. Think about what happened to your mom. Don’t be silly and think a happily-ever-after can happen to you.

  I sighed deeply as I buried my face in my hands. I felt dizzy and my head was pounding in pain. But that was nothing compared to dull ache that was spreading like molten lava from the center of my chest.

  Just as I was about to order another shot, a voice from behind me interrupted my thoughts.

  “Hi, excuse me?” said the deep, smooth voice. Something about that voice pulled me out of my misery.

  I turned around to see who it was, and I gasped. Everything around me froze and the world stopped spinning.

  I was looking straight into his warm, brown eyes.

  It was him.

  He gave me a dazzling smile, and my heart skipped a beat when those dimples appeared on his handsome face.

  “It’s you,” I let out uncontrollably. I realized then that I stopped breathing the second I saw him.

  He gave a soft warm chuckle, and my despair quickly melted away as happiness radiated through my body.

  “Well, yes, I guess it is me. Have we met before?” he said, looking at me with curiosity.

  “Umm, no. You just look like someone I’ve met before,” I said, thankful that I was still able to speak. I could feel my face growing hot.

  “Hi, I’m Brandon Fisher,” he continued as he held out his hand.

  I stared at him silently as I held out my hand to meet his. The second our hands touched, a spark of electricity coursed between us. His hand was warm, rou
gh, and protective, and I knew it was the same hand that had touched me every night in my dreams, and a need began to grow inside as my body responded to his touch.

  “Emma—Emma’s—Emma is my name—” I blurted out incoherently. I cleared my throat, “Um, I mean, hi, I’m Emma. Emma Anderson.” Whether it was the alcohol or his presence, I was in a fog and was unable to think straight.

  “Emma’s a pretty name. It’s very nice to meet you, Emma,” Brandon said, his voice was warm and sweet like caramel.

  “I’m the marketing consultant for the booze cruise company you and your friends had purchased your tickets from. I was informed that you unfortunately missed the cruise tonight, so I wanted to come and personally apologize for the situation we’ve put you in. If there’s anything I can do to make the rest of your night better, please let me know.”

  “Well, umm, that’s really nice of you,” I said, my eyes never leaving his. Wow, he is gorgeous. It took all my willpower and common sense to resist the urge to grab him towards me and kiss him.

  “I was just planning on having a few drinks, maybe walk down the beach, and wait until my friends get back from the cruise,” I continued.

  Brandon looked at his watch and frowned. “But the ship won’t be back until after 2 a.m., which is not for another seven hours.”

  “Oh, really?” That caught me by surprise and woke me out of my drunk trance. “Crap, I guess you’re right.”

  “Well, I’m done with work for the night. Would you like some company?” Brandon asked with a smile.

  “God, you’re gorgeous—” I blurted out. I immediately buried my eyes in my hands and cringed with embarrassment. “Oh God. I’m sorry ….” I said as I shook my head.

  He let out a warm chuckle, “No, don’t be. I’m actually flattered. Can I buy you a drink?”

  “Yes. Sure,” I said, still mortified and trying desperately to gain my composure. God, why did I drink so much champagne and tequila shots, I thought. I frantically tried to will myself to sober up as I felt the effects of the alcohol cloud my thoughts.

  “What would you like to drink?” he asked.

  “Sex on the Beach,” I blurted out, “—the drink,” I added after a slight delay, failing miserably at my attempt to clarify.

  Though if I had a choice, I’d much rather have the real sex on the beach with you. I thought as I bit my lower lip.

  Ohmygod, Emma, stop thinking that, and focus! Stop being such a lush! a faint voice in my head screamed.

  Brandon looked at me quizzically. His eyes were gentle, yet sultry. His smile was inviting and alluring.

  “Would you like some water or soda first before we get you that Sex on the Beach?”

  Did I seem that drunk? I felt myself blush and prayed that my face was already red from the alcohol. “Um, sure. Maybe that’s a good idea.”

  “Well, we have a good seven hours to kill, so let’s pace ourselves.”

  “We do?” I said as I looked up at him. “Are you planning on staying with me the entire time?” Oh God, I must sound so desperate.

  “Sure, if you’d like the company.” He gave me a warm smile. “Besides, I wouldn’t feel right if I left you alone in this state, especially when I know you’ll be alone for the rest of the night.” He had a kind face, and as I looked at him, I couldn’t help but feel like I could trust him.

  “Thanks, I’d like that. And I’ll have a Diet Coke.”

  “Carlos,” he said towards the bartender.

  Carlos turned around and smiled at us, “Señor Fisher, what would you like?”

  “This beautiful lady would like a Diet Coke, and please get me my usual double malt scotch,” Brandon said to Carlos.

  I froze. Did he just say I was beautiful? I looked around to see if there was another girl around us.

  I must have wobbled slightly as I turned, because the next thing I knew, my stool tipped over and Brandon caught me before I fell.

  His body was warm and hard, and his arms felt strong and protective around me. His intoxicating smell nearly sent me over the edge as I inhaled deeply.

  “Are you okay? What happened?” he asked as he pulled me back on my stool. He was now standing next to my stool with his arms protectively around me.

  God, this feels nice. Can I have you forever?

  I looked up into his eyes, and thought I saw a spark of desire in them.

  “Yes, sorry. I’m such a klutz,” I said slowly and softly, transfixed by his gaze.

  “Well I’m glad that I was here to catch you then,” he said playfully. His voice was equally slow and soft. His face was only six inches away from mine now and I could feel his warm breath gently tickling my face as he spoke.

  For a few long seconds, we said nothing and only stared into each other’s eyes. Even in my intoxicated fog, I knew there was an undeniable and inextricable connection between us that neither of us could explain. I want you to kiss me. I need you to kiss me, I thought as I silently willed him to devour me.

  As if he heard me, he inched forward slightly, his eyes never leaving mine. I could feel the need inside me grow stronger. At that moment, the electric excitement between us was palpable as it buzzed between us.

  “A Diet Coke and a scotch, señor,” Carlos said as he rushed by to hand us our drinks before moving on to tend to a crowd of people on the other end of the bar.

  Brandon pulled slightly away at Carlos’s interruption, and then the moment was gone.

  Don’t be silly, Emma. He’s not interested. You’re having alcoholic delusions, a convincing voice said inside me.

  Brandon handed me my drink and sipped his scotch. “So how long have you been in Cancun?” he asked me.

  “A week now. Today’s actually our last night here,” I said. Sadness filled me as I realized how short of a time I would have with him.

  “Oh, I’m really sorry you missed the booze cruise on your last night.”

  “It’s okay. It was my fault. I got lost looking for the restroom and missed the boat,” I said, realizing how stupid I must sound to him.

  “Well, why don’t we do this? If you want to, that is. After our drink, we can take a walk on the beach, like you had planned, and I can take you to my favorite place to watch the sunset here in Cancun.”

  I look back at him. He was wearing a loose, white linen shirt that accentuated his sun-kissed tan and lightly hugged the muscles on his arms and chest. The first two buttons on his shirt were unbuttoned, revealing the toned contours of his pecks. My mind raced to thoughts of that same body, naked, and on top of mine, and—

  “Did you want to do that?” Brandon asked, pulling me out of my reverie.

  I blinked, and looked up at him. “Sorry, what?” I asked.

  “Did you want to walk on the beach with me and see the sunset?” he asked, his voice was gentle and patient.

  “Yes, that would be great,” I said, slightly breathless.

  “Perfect.” He gave me a dazzling smile and his dimples came out in full force. My God.

  As we sipped our drinks, I told him about my week in Cancun and the things we had done. I noticed that I was speaking a little louder than usual and my words were slightly slurred. I knew I was drunk, but I thought I was doing a great job of hiding that fact from Brandon.

  Before Brandon closed out our tab, I insisted that we should get a bottle of champagne—Dom Pérignon, of course—because I hadn’t had a drink yet, and I wanted to “celebrate” while we watched the sunset. I wasn’t quite sure what I thought we were celebrating and gave Brandon no further explanation. He only chuckled and said, “You’re a lady with expensive taste,” before he ordered a bottle and two flutes to go.

  Chapter 6

  After he paid the tab, Brandon led me towards the beach. As we walked, I realized that I was drunker than I had initially thought. I was still standing on my two feet, but needed the occasional help from Brandon, which of course, I didn’t mind.

  As we started down the beach, the alcohol was making me uncontrollably
giddy and light, and I started to giggle.

  “What so funny?” Brandon asked with amusement.

  “I don’t know, but something’s funny,” I said between giggles.

  “Could it be the alcohol?” he ventured teasingly.

  I hiccupped, and then said, “No, it’s not, I’m not drunk at all,” I said defiantly, but seconds later, laughed at myself. Brandon joined in.

  Then a man who had been walking towards us interrupted our laughter. “Hey, it’s you from the other night,” the man slurred.

  I looked up at Brandon, waiting for him to respond to the man. Brandon shrugged his shoulders in confusion.

  “No, you,” the man said to me. “At Dady’Os the other night. You were the hot girl in the glittery tight dress. You girls high-fived me, remember?”

  Then a memory from that night surfaced in my mind. He wasn’t wearing the same shirt as that night, but his lobster-tan was undeniable.

  “Ohmygod, Mr. Muscle Shirt Man!” I yelled, and gave the man a high-five as I laughed.

  “Mr. who?” Brandon asked, as he watched me. His eyes seemed to be filled with a mixture of confusion and hurt. Why was he upset?

  “You know, Mr. Muscle Shirt Man. We met him the other night,” I said, “I mean, the girls and I did.

  “Who’s Mr. Muscle Shirt Man?” the man asked as he put his arms around me, almost dragging me down as he wobbled in his step.

  Before I can answer, the man continued, “Hey, you should come back to my hotel. My buddies and I are getting ready go to out to this foam party at Señor Frogs. You should definitely come. It’ll be fucking crazy.”

  “Aww, that sounds like fun, but I’m going to watch the sunset,” I said, starting to feel a little uncomfortable with the man’s aggressiveness.

  Brandon looked concerned and pulled me away from the man, “Emma, maybe we should get going?”

  “Okay,” I said.

  “Hey, what’s your problem, man? She can talk to whoever she wants,” the guy said as he approached Brandon.

  At well over six feet tall, Brandon was unfazed by the guy. He ignored him and turned to me, “Let’s go.” He held out his hand, and I took it immediately, grateful to be under his protection.