Chapter 2
Follow Through – Kayla
“ A baby?” Molly exclaims when I tell her about my niece or nephew.
Since it’s a weekday, the bar is quiet. So, I’m sure the other patrons, although there was only half a dozen around, could hear her.
“Yep,” I replied after looking around and seeing them engaged in their own conversations.
She sets her beer bottle down and grimaces. The bouncing brown curls spouting from the top of her head move with her head.
“What?”
Taking another swig, she says, “Don’t get me wrong. I love Collin. But picturing him… having sex.”
I cover my ears. “La, la, la.” It’s not something I enjoy thinking about either.
“I mean, that pasty body thrusting on top of someone.”
“Molly!” I throw a napkin at her. “That’s disgusting.”
Her blue eyes widen behind her big, black-rimmed glasses. I assume she already took out her contacts for the night before I texted her to meet me out. “I know that’s what I’m saying!” She then pouts her small but plump lips.
“What I’m saying is that you’re going to make me sick. I get it. Collin is not your ideal man.”
“Not physically, no.”
“Mhm.” I raise an eyebrow and cross my arms. Tell that to the ten-year-old Molly who was obsessed with him and followed him around our house like a lost little puppy.
“Anyway…” I’m grateful for the change of subject. “What’s new with you?”
I tip my wine glass up and let the delicious liquid coat my mouth. “Well,” I say after swallowing, “I’m going to look for a job.”
She leans closer. “You are? What are you going to do? Work in some fancy finance office?”
Ugh, no. I tried that before, and I ended up working for a bunch of old men who told me I dressed too slutty—and that was the first time anyone has ever said that to me, by the way. I’m actually surprised Molly didn’t criticize my outfit tonight. She had no problem showing off her skin, as evidenced by her lowcut top, but I am more reserved.
“No, I’m thinking about applying to work on a yacht.”
Her jaw drops. “You’re kidding.”
“I’m not.”
“Kayla, it’s not going to be like the show.”
I resist rolling my eyes. “I know that.”
Her brow furrows, and she looks at me out of the corner of her eye. “Do you?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Because this is real life. There won’t be camera crew around to capture your hijinks.”
“I know.” Again, I’m lying through my teeth. I haven’t really thought any of this through.
“Oh, and there won’t be producers who are working behind the scenes to orchestrate drama.”
“I know,” I repeat.
“Okay,” Molly says with skepticism.
“What?” I’m getting a little tired of people doubting me, although I also know it’s warranted. After quitting at Shuster & O’Malley, a lead finance company in the state, I’ve kind of just been existing in life with no purpose or ambition. And I’ve said many times that I was going to do something to change that, but I never stuck with anything.
But this time is different. It has to be. I don’t have my brother’s money to fall back on anymore.
“I just hope you follow through with this little plan of yours,” she says.
“I will.”
Her finger traces the rim of the bottle. “Okay. Then, I’m happy for you.”
“Thank you.” I hope she believes me—and I hope I can believe in myself enough to finally change things up.
Now I want to change the subject. “Any new men in your life?” I know her well enough to know that was something she couldn’t resist talking about.
She looks up at me and grins. “A couple, actually.”
“Ooh.” I put my elbows on the table and wriggle my fingers together. “Do tell.”
“Well, there’s Peter.”
“Peter. Okay.” A solid and traditional name. “What’s he like?”
“He’s gorgeous, smart, and rich.”
“Check, check, and check,” I joke.
“And oh, my god. That man is an expert in bed.”
My toes curl. “Oh, yeah?” After my ex, Simon, cheated on me, which just so happened to be right around the time when I left my job, I’d sworn off men. So, I have to live vicariously through her.
“Kayla, I thought I was going to pass out at one point, and that was just from him kissing my neck. Can you imagine what it was like—”
“No.” I rub my right shoulder. I really couldn’t. Simon was a lazy, at best, lover who seemed to focus on his own orgasm and never consider mine.
The image of him on top of me for a few sweaty seconds and then rolling off and falling asleep crosses my mind. I shake it away.
“Sorry, go on.” I want to know every dirty detail. I was so concerned about onlookers hearing us when talking about Collin and Claudia’s baby, but I could care less now.
“He does this thing with his tongue and his teeth. It’s hard to describe.”
Try.
“It’s kind of like a bite—but not. I mean, it hurts for like a millisecond, but then it’s oh, so good.”
I’m biting on my lower lip again. “Uh-huh.”
Slumping her head down a little she says, “And his dick,” she words the last word, “is out of this world.”
“Wow.” Other than my high school boyfriend who was even clumsier and inexperienced, Simon is the only man I’ve ever slept with. I don’t want to disparage him, per se, but sometimes I couldn’t even tell if he was inside of me or not.
She spins one of her curls with her finger. “And then there’s Dylan.”
“Dylan?” Like her wardrobe choices, her dating life was much wilder and more interesting than mine. With that, I look down at my plain shirt and feel behind my body to make sure it was covering me up.
“Yes, Dylan. He’s an Aussie, and he fucks just as slow as he talks.” She smiles widely. “Ah. What a ride.”
“Anyone else?” I ask in jest.
“Of course, darling.”
Holy shit. “Seriously?”
She sits back with her arm draped on the chair. “Let’s see. There’s Chester, Matthew, oh, and Ruben. Ruben is my sexy Latin lover.”
“Jeez!” It’s a wonder the woman is able to sit down without quivering in pain.
“What can I say? I like to have fun.”
“I’ll say. How do you keep them all straight?”
She shrugs. “I don’t know. I just do.”
Molly is definitely one of those friends I know I wouldn’t have if it wasn’t for our history together. Without that, I’m sure I would be far too boring for her.
“What about you?”
“What about me?” I don’t understand.
She giggles. “Are there any men on your horizon?”
“Oh.” I glare to the side. “No.”
“Come on, Kayla. You’re too young and too hot… well.” She examines my body. “Your face is hot.”
“Hey!” I smooth back some hair behind my ear.
“I’m sorry. But you dress like my seventy-five-year-old grandmother. In fact, I’m pretty sure she has that exact same shirt.”
I did get it from the “mature women” section at Kohl’s, so it’s possible.
“Anyway, back to your question. No. There’s no man, and I intend on keeping it that way.”
She grunts. “That’s no fun!”
“Yeah well, I found out what fun got me last time.”
“Ugh! That stupid Simon.” She takes off her glasses and makes circles with her fingers before putting them around her eyes. “Hi I’m Simon.” She’s doing her best British accent. “I’m a pretentious bastard with a tiny wiener and no personality beyond the fact that I have little John Lennon glasses.”
“Molly!” I throw another napkin at her, which she tries to deflect before it hits her arm.
In her normal voice, she says, “He sucked, K. There’s no question of that. But he doesn’t represent all men.”
“Maybe not.” But I’m just not ready to get back out in the dating pool. He hurt me so badly.
She reaches her arms out and grabs my hands. “Please, just consider going on one double date with me. Pleeeease.”
I suck air through my teeth and shake my head. “No thanks.”
“Ugh.” She pouts.
I really want to stick to my word this time, so when I get home, and after texting Collin that I made it safely, I open my laptop, pull up Google, and type “Yacht Jobs” into the browser.
For the most part, the only things I’m seeing are cooking positions for local yacht clubs.
“No.” I keep scrolling while biting my thumb.
Then, I see it. “Steward needed for private vessel.” I click on it and read about how a successful businessman owns a yacht and uses it to travel around the world. The next trip is going to start in Fort Lauderdale, Florida, and end in Greece.
“Greece!” That’s not a place I ever thought I’d visit.
However, I’m a little put off when I read about all the certifications you need to get in order to apply. But with a little bit of research, it doesn’t sound like any of them are too complicated or expensive to get.
So, I pull the plunge, and I fill out the application.
“Come on universe,” I whisper while hitting “send.” With my fingers crossed, I look up at the sky. “Please show me a sign that I’m on the right path.”
The clink of my now empty wine glass against the bedside table echoes around me as I reach for the bottle to pour myself some more. But my stomach lurches after I hear a “ding” coming from my computer and see that I’ve got an email from someone named Wesley Bryant.
I take a sip before discarding the glass and open it.
“Good evening, Ms. Allen.”
My heart is pounding.
“I’ve reviewed your application and would like to set up a quick Zoom call with you to discuss this position further. Please let me know what date and time work best for you.”
I hit reply. “Right now, if that works for you.” I’m serious about holding to this, and I don’t want to hesitate for a second.
“Great. I’ll send you a link shortly.”
Oh, shit. The reality of everything hits me like a brick wall. I’m about to have a professional job interview, and I’m in my pajamas, have my hair up in a messy bun, and have red-stained lips.
So, I scour my closet and find a white button-up to replace the grungy band t-shirt I had on. But I don’t change from my stretchy pants with flowers all over them. I figure he won’t be able to see the bottom half of my body.
Then, I scurry into the bathroom to get my hair free and then braided at my side. The next and final steps are to wet a tissue and rub it along my lips and then brush my teeth.
“Good enough,” I say after looking at my reflection in the mirror.
When I return, I have another email, and I click to join the meeting.