Shared & Protected

by J P Books

  I’m crushed, feeling like the opportunity of a lifetime was handed to me and then snatched away, but there’s no way I could afford to go on a cruise right now.

  Alicia pouts but doesn’t argue. She understands. She won the cruise ticket through her work and knows that if it wasn’t for that she never would have been able to afford to go either.

  We sit in the cafe, sad and quiet, but still glad to be each other’s company.

  What am I going to do when she is out of town and enjoying the trip of her life?

  *****

  I’m laying on my couch, playing hooky from work and watching Netflix with a massive bowl of popcorn. There’s some unwritten rule that proves bawling your eyes out to a romantic comedy is part of the process for recovering from a heartbreak.

  When my phone rings, I’m completely confused. My phone doesn’t ring these days. Who would call me after all? Sure, it buzzes with notifications and pisses me off with the alarms, but it doesn’t ring.

  It’s Alicia’s number. Now I’m worried…we only ever text each other.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, girl…um, how’s it going?” Something sounds weird about Alicia’s voice.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask immediately.

  “Nothing! Well, nothing dire. Don’t freak out, ok?”

  Oh my god. Now I’m freaking out. “What’s wrong?” I almost shout at her.

  “Don’t be so dramatic, Janice,” Alicia tells me. Which takes some of the edge off, but I still wait silently and impatiently for her to continue.

  “Ok, so it’s no big deal but I’m sort of in the hospital. I had a little disagreement with a car on where it’s appropriate for me to ride my bike and I ended up run off the road and laying in the ditch with a broken leg.”

  “What?!?” I scream into the phone as I jump off the couch and start searching for my keys. “I’m on my way. Are you ok? What do you need?”

  “Seriously, calm down. I’m fine. Though I wouldn’t argue about some company, it’s straight up boring in here!” That was all the invitation I need as I run out the front door.

  *****

  Finding her room at the hospital is a predictable nightmare but when I finally catch sight of Alicia’s messy hair, I let out a sigh of relief and run to her. Her leg is hoisted up in this sling thing hanging from the ceiling and I know my face must be a picture of shock and dismay.

  “Yeah…it’s not too pretty. And the doctors who tied me up like this aren’t even that hot. I thought doctors were supposed to be hotties?”

  I can’t help laughing, but it’s near hysteria. “Are you ok? Like, really ok? What can I do for you?” I don’t know what to do or where to look. I feel helpless.

  “Well, I’ve been thinking. There’s actually this one thing you can do for me, but you have to promise not to argue, because you’re literally my only option.”

  “Of course,” I agree instantly. “Anything. What can I do?”

  “You have to go on my cruise for me and meet some gorgeous hunk and get all the sex. You know, since my divorce, I haven’t tasted a lick of action and now that my leg’s all messed up, I won’t be getting on that boat. But it’s non-refundable, so you’re just going to have to go for me.”

  I stare at Alicia absolutely speechless. Am I dreaming or is she offering me a vacation of my life?

  CHAPTER 2

  Leo

  I sit at the table, staring at my glass of wine. It’s a deep and bold red, my favorite, but I’m ignoring it and scratching the stubble on my jaw distractedly. Oliver, my best friend and business partner, is sitting across from me, with his brooding eyes making the room feel strangely intense.

  “We know it’s all a lie. Constantin will believe us. We’ll find a way to make sure our customers believe us too,” I say, with more confidence than I feel.

  Someone had told the papers that our family of French fine dining restaurants was serving sub-standard meat, which was total bullshit, of course. But as soon as one paper reported on it, they all did. And suddenly, our chain of popular restaurants is facing the biggest challenge in its history.

  “I think,” Oliver starts slowly, “that our customers already disbelieve the rumors. There has been no proof, and we can trust the health inspectors to support us. If,” he adds, “they will make public statements.”

  That is the catch. Health inspectors are notorious for only talking about the scandals. They go on record whenever rats or cockroaches have been found scattered across a kitchen, but you never see them stand up and challenge any media source when the news is fake. Which is totally our case.

  As soon as the story broke our share prices took a hit and we started getting calls from some of our smaller investors. Our reservation lists stayed relatively strong, which gave us hope, but if the papers kept talking about us, there could be real trouble in our future.

  We had grown the business from one small local fine dining establishment to the most successful chain of restaurants in the state in only 5 years. With Oliver, we are now primary owners of a multi-billion-dollar business, nearly unheard of in this industry.

  We got there because of Oliver’s genius managerial skills and, as I like to say, my irresistible charm. Investors couldn’t refuse either of us, and customers loved our concept. Add hours and hours of hard work and we can proudly say that we turned our vision into success.

  And now it’s all at risk because of one ridiculous, totally fake news story.

  Last week, I had personally called 3 health inspectors - our regular guy and 2 of the other highest rated businesses in the state. I had invited them for inspections. It had taken a little encouragement, but in the end, their curiosity had won out and they all agreed.

  They each got a full tour of the business, and hopefully, they’d be so impressed that they’d share their experience with the press. Today is the day to find out.

  I also invited 7 prominent food bloggers and critics to join us. The goal was to get as much of the positive publicity as possible. Luckily, I didn’t have to plead with any of them twice. They could sense a great story and didn’t really care if it was good or bad – they wanted the opportunity to tell it.

  We’re fighting this made-up scandal the best we can.

  *****

  My normal cheerfulness has returned in full force and I’m grinning by the time Constantin arrives for our business meeting. It’s been a week since the last critic posted a praising review of our establishment. The health inspectors also did a great job and made a public statement recommending our business for its high food safety standards. Though it’s relatively early to say that we have successfully warded off the scandal, our takings are up again.

  Constantin is our largest investor, and the only one we had really been concerned about when the scandal broke. He’s been also our biggest fan, so the concern was more for our own egos and reputation than worry that he would lose faith in us.

  He’s the type of man I imagine my father would have been if I had ever known him. Smart, handsome, clearly very decisive and shrewd and a savvy investor, but also quick to laugh and generous. He had taken Oliver and me under his wing shortly after we started the business and was the primary reason we were able to expand so fast, so successfully.

  We owe our lives to him, and I’m so relieved to be able to share the good news with him today.

  Oliver, of course, is much more subdued. He shakes Contantin’s hand professionally, and I pull him in for a hug immediately afterward.

  He laughs easily at us both and says, in his unique American/French accent, “It is good to see you, my boys. How have you been?”

  Of course, he knows what we’d been dealing with, but Constantin always wants to know first, how we are coping with life, and then second, how business is doing.

  “It hasn’t been easy, the past few weeks,” Oliver admits, “but challenges like this always end up for the best, if you stay true to your values. I think busi
ness will be all the stronger for it.”

  “It sucked, though!” I throw in. “Whoever made up that story obviously has his head up his ass and I hope he’s enjoying the taste of eating his own shit, now that we’ve proved the story was totally fake.” I may be known as the charming one, but I’m also a lot more vocal about my opinions than Oliver is.

  Constantin barks with laughter and claps me on the back.

  “Yes,” he says, “You both did a fantastic job of making whoever slandered your good name ‘eat his own shit’, as you say.” Chuckling, Constantin sobers.

  “You have both been so dedicated to this business of yours, I am very impressed with you. Very impressed. It is almost five years now, that we have been working together, no?”

  Oliver and I nod in agreement, both of us thinking the same thing, I’m sure: thank god we found you and you believed in us.

  “I am very thankful that we met and I have enjoyed the pleasure of working with you both. You have never given me any cause to doubt the security of my investment, and I know that you never will. I thank you.” I don’t know about Oliver, but despite the fact that I’m 30 years old, I feel like a proud little schoolboy who had just impressed his father, and I like it. I beam at Constantin.

  “Now,” the Frenchman says, “let us have a toast to your success!”

  *****

  The wine flows freely today, and Oliver and I both help ourselves in celebration. The world is slowly returning to rights, and we are making the most of our evening with Constantin.

  “So, boys,” Constantin begins, “what are your plans now?”

  That was unexpected. Oliver and I had actually been talking of expanding to Canada or one of our neighboring states before the fake news scandal started, but we hadn’t brought it up since.

  As usual, Constantin can tell we are ready for a new challenge. The reviews from the bloggers and critics had created such a buzz that a few of the newspapers who had printed the original story were actually retracting their statements, admitting that the source had, in fact, been falsely submitted. Oliver had brilliantly introduced the health inspectors to the writers and our vindication had created a surge of renewed loyalty and excitement about our business.

  We are poised to capitalize on it and now would be a great time to expand. Oliver is more or less saying all this as I watch him talk, over my glass of wine.

  He is an interesting man. Very few know him as I do. On the surface, he is always so serene and poised. He doesn’t say much, but his intelligence catches every nuance of a situation and his eyes reflect back his interest.

  At times, his glance could turn a man to stone, seeming to see the whole truth of his soul. At other times, he would look at someone with such a look of lust that the lucky recipient would be instantly aroused and ready to submit to his every demand.

  He isn’t a demanding man, though, I know. He’s passionate, and the most caring person I have in my life. He and Constantin are my reasons for where I am now.

  I notice Constantin is looking at me expectantly and I realize I have spaced out for a moment. “I’m sorry, what was that?” I throw an apologetic grin at him. He has seen my look of affection for Oliver and pats my leg.

  “I said, none of you have taken a single vacation in the entire time I have known you two. Every successful business owner knows that there is a time to recharge his energy, before diving into more work.”

  I glance at Oliver; this is true. We haven’t taken a vacation since we started the business, but we’ve been so devoted to the company that we haven’t even thought of it. As soon as it’s mentioned though, it sounds pretty good to me.

  Constantin starts talking again, in the voice we’ve come to understand as his don’t-argue-with-me voice.“You two will go on a cruise. The Caribbean is beautiful at this time of year. And as a matter of fact, it’s already arranged. You’ll spend 7 days on one of my ocean liners. All expenses paid. While you are away, I will look for new opportunities to expand your business and we will meet again when your minds and bodies are suitably refreshed.”

  I look at Constantin and from his facial expression, I know that any of my arguments will be pointless.

  CHAPTER 3

  Janice

  “Gin & Tonic please, extra lime,” I say, doing my best to look cheerful for the bartender. I know I’m being a total downer and ungrateful, but for some reason, it’s been a lot harder to enjoy this cruise than I thought it would be.

  I had all these beautiful dreams of what it would be like – unlimited cocktails with umbrellas, exotic foods whenever I get peckish, and gorgeous tanned men displayed for my viewing pleasure wherever I look.

  In reality, I’m a beer or wine kind of girl, so even opting for G&Ts is a stretch for me. If I were to start drinking those pink and yellow layered slushy drinks that I see everywhere I’m pretty sure I’d be under the table before noon every day.

  The food was delicious on the first day. It was ok the next day. Now that it’s the third day of the cruise it has lost all its appeal. The buffet breakfast and lunch are all you can eat, but it’s all food that my bikini-filled wardrobe would not appreciate. And the dinners are just awkward. I’ve been sat at a table with 3 couples, one of whom has a teenage girl who cannot be more than 16 years old but flirts more erotically with the staff than I have ever flirted with a man in all of my 22 years. She fills out her bikinis nicer than I do as well, little Barbie lookalike.

  And the gorgeous men are mostly replaced by 50+ men in speedos who look like they’re challenging Trump to a how-orange-can-he-go contest. There are a few absolute jaw-droppers, though. I’ve noticed two men in particular, but they’re always together so I figure they must be a couple. Nonetheless, I’ve definitely passed a few hours daydreaming about them.

  I’m pretty sure there are strict rules for the staff about fraternizing with the guests, so my romantic options appear to be limited to men who could be my grandfather or a probably gay couple.

  So here I sit, alone at a bar, sipping a drink that I am not overly fond of, surrounded by bartenders who never seem to get tired of Bob Marley. Ever.

  What else is a girl to do but remember every single happy memory of her ex?

  I haven’t stopped thinking about Peter this entire trip. I know I’m supposed to be forgetting about him and moving on, but I can’t stop myself from thinking about that time we lay snuggled in bed listening to raunchy Bob Saget standup. Or the time we took a trip to Seattle and spent two days doing nothing but trying to find local bands to listen to. Or that time we left the apartment in the morning and found a post-it note taped to our door that read “please move headboard.”

  I actually snort into my drink remembering that one. Oh my goodness, my neighbors hated us! We used to find it hilarious that they never had sex until they heard us going at it. We were like their audio porn.

  God, Peter and I had some good sex.

  I can feel my face getting hot and my eyes tingle with tears that I was holding back, yet again. Why can’t I just forget about him?

  I only know for sure that the cheating happened once. I thought I was going to throw up when I found out unless my heart exploded first. My entire body revolted against the idea and I threw him out, not giving him a single second to explain. Cheating is unforgivable for me. A deal breaker.

  I’d always thought so.

  But now that it’s actually happened to me…I wonder if I should have heard his side of the story. I mean, everybody makes mistakes. What if it was only the once and he regretted it? Did I really want to let one little slip-up overshadow all of the incredible love we had shared?

  Oh my god, I’m doing it again! I really need to snap out of this mood. Peter was a cheating asshat and there is no going back.

  I seriously need to distract myself.

  Smiling at the bartender, I grab what’s left of my drink and head out to wander the ship. Again.

  I’ve walked every inch of this
boat, I’m pretty sure. It’s big enough to be a small city, but somehow I never find anything to do. Probably because I’ve never been comfortable doing things on my own and being surrounded by couples who’ve been married longer than I’ve been alive isn’t helping.

  There’s always something happening at night though, so I head inside to wander around and check out the events that are listed on the various bars.

  I’ve already seen the play, which was actually the highlight of my trip so far. I’m a secret theatre junkie. I got to watch Mamma Mia! last night and, even though I’d seen it before, it was amazing. I laughed, cried, and sang along to every single song until the lights turned back on and I remembered that I was alone again.

  Moving on…

  There’s trivia on early, but it doesn’t seem to last very long. There’s a tribute band playing, but not until midnight. The water show isn’t until tomorrow…

  Karaoke contest? That could be fun to watch. I used to love singing. There was a little karaoke bar in my neighborhood that was my favorite thing to do on Friday nights before I met Peter. He used to make fun of my singing, so I stopped getting on stage myself.

  Watching was fun too, though. Everyone always looks like they’re having so much fun! I know I did, back in the day.

  Maybe I should sign up? Who am I going to be up against, Sonny & Cher impersonators? Neil Dimond chanters? How bad could it be? Besides, it’s not like I’m ever going to see any of these people again.

  With G&T fueled confidence, I saunter into the upscale bar that would be hosting the contest.

  “Excuse me,” I flag down the bartender, who’s obviously not expecting anyone to be inside the ship this early in the day.

  “How do I sign up for the contest?” I ask, indicating the sign.