Chapter 8
Maria – Kayla
“ I did something really bad,” I confess to Molly later on the boat.
“Already? Good for you!” Although she sounds excited, I am anything but.
My serious tone remains unwavering. “Molly.”
“What?”
I peek outside of my cabin to make sure that nobody is within earshot.
When I ensure that there is not, I close the door, sit on my bed, and chew on my nails. “I almost kissed him.”
“I’m sorry, what? I couldn’t hear you with your fingers in your mouth.”
She knows me too well. Removing them, I repeat, “I almost kissed him.”
She gasps. “That’s what I was hoping you were going to say. Who’s he?”
“Jack Shelley,” I whisper.
She gasps yet again. “No.”
“Yes.” I can hardly believe myself.
A few moments of silence pass before she says, “Well?”
“Well, what?”
Sputtering, she asks, “Um, what the hell happened? And don’t skip out on any detail.”
I hug my knees to my chest. “I don’t know. It started with a few drinks at the club, and then wham!”
“Wham? He just stood before you—in his billionaire and handsome glory.”
As funny as it sounds, that is pretty accurate. When I tell my best friend the same, she laughs.
“And then what happened?” Just like how she knew I was chewing on my nails, I know that she’s probably curling her hair in her fingers. She always does when she’s listening to juicy gossip… and this is juicy.
But I continue, “Well, he didn’t seem to know who I was. So, I just went with it.”
She groans. “Details, Kayla. Please! I need the details!”
I shrug one shoulder. “He took me out to a restaurant. Oh, my god!” The memory of the gigantic jellyfish tank distracts me. “It was so cool, Mol. They had a huge tank…”
“Kayla! For god’s sake!”
Right. Even I’m exhausted over how many times I’ve derailed this conversation. “We went to a restaurant because I knocked over the chocolate souffle he had in his hands for his friend, so we went to get some more, and he bought an extra one for me.”
“Oh, there it is. That’s all a man has ever had to go to get to your heart. Feed good ole Kayla Allen some chocolate, and she’ll be yours forever.”
I smiled. “… like you did when we were kids?” I joke. She did bring me the biggest chocolate heart for Valentine’s Day one year, and we’ve been best friends ever since.
“Exactly.”
“Then, after that, we were outside and standing in the brightness of a streetlamp… and we had a moment. Well,” I bite my lower lip and smooth the hair behind my left ear, “I thought we were going to. But just when I thought he was finally going to kiss me, his phone rang.”
“And he took it?”
“He said he had to.”
“Ugh.”
I’m not sure why I feel the necessity to stand up for him, but I do. “He’s an important guy, Molly.”
“I understand that.”
I wonder if part of my ego needed her to acknowledge that. Like it wasn’t just some random nobody who I shared a moment with. It was Jack Shelley. CEO extraordinaire of Shelley Publications.
“But it’s still shitty.”
I suck air through my teeth. With that, we could agree. Not that I blamed him, but I wanted more than anything for him to kiss me. After a brief sigh, I say, “But it’s probably for the best.”
“Perhaps.”
That reaction surprised me. “Really?” I would’ve thought she’d prefer the scandal.
“Well, yeah. I mean, he’s your boss, no?”
I take a deep breath in and out. “That he is.”
“And nobody wants to be the new employee who is macking on the boss.”
“I suppose not.”
Another few moments of silence pass between us.
“So, what are you going to do when he realizes you are his employee?”
Shit. I haven’t even thought about that.
“… I don’t know.”
“Well, you better think quick because it might be quite the scene.”
There’s a pang in my stomach, and I have to clutch it to relieve the pain. “You think so?”
“I mean, maybe. If I were you, I’d be prepared for the worst.”
Our conversation is suddenly interrupted by several bangs on the side of my accordion door.
“Kayla? Are you in there?”
It’s a man’s voice, so I’m silent as I try to decipher who my visitor is—Denver, Captain Bryant, or Jack . Speaking of the last possibility, I’m simultaneously hopeful and terrified that it might be him.
“Hello? It’s me, Denver.”
Oh. The fact that it’s my new friend makes me relax a little.
“Who’s that?” Molly asks.
“Just a friend. I gotta go.”
“But—”
I hang up before she can say anything else. After that, I stand up, smooth my hair and tank top, and open the door.
“What’s up?” I inquire as calmly as I can.
His hair is fluffed in random spots, and he has a goofy smile on his face.
I cross my arms and lean against the door frame. “Did you have a good night?”
He chuckles. “I did.”
“What was her name again?” She briefly introduced herself to me, but the club was very loud. All I recall is her appearance. She had wavy dark hair, scolding brown eyes, and red lipstick… the faint remnants of which I could see around Denver’s lips.
“Maria.” He puts an accent on the “ia.”
“Maria,” I repeat—sans accent.
He grins. “Yeah.”
“That’s good.”
With a raised eyebrow, he asks, “And what did you get into?”
Oh, not much. I just almost frenched our boss. Of course, I wasn’t about to admit all of that. Instead, I say, “Nothing much.”
“Hm. Well, I just wanted to come over here and apologize for leaving you alone like that. I just—”
“Didn’t want to miss out on a good opportunity,” I finish his sentence for him.
“Something like that. Anyway, I am sorry. It isn’t very gentlemanly to leave a woman on her own and in a city she doesn’t know.” I can tell by the look on his face that he’s being very sincere.
I reach out and touch his shoulder. “Seriously, don’t worry about it. I just came right back to the boat.”
“Good, good.” He looks behind his shoulder. “I guess I’ll leave you to it then.”
“Yeah, yeah.” I nod.
He turns around to walk away.
“Denver.” I stop him.
“What?” He faces me again.
“Did you get Maria’s number?”
He pulls out a wadded piece of paper out of his back pocket. “I did.”
“Will you please just—just please be nice to her.” I don’t know him enough to discern whether he’s the “hit it and quit it” type of guy or not.
“Don’t worry. I will be.” He glances down at the numbers, grazes them with his thumb, and beams.
“Good.” That’s what I was hoping he’d say.
From there, I wished him good night, and returned to the solace of my little cabin.
Will Jack Shelley be nice to me when he finds out who I am? I wonder.