Chapter 14 – Stags on a Big Boat.
The Welcome to Miami sign hangs overhead as we stroll through the terminal at Signature Aviation MIA. It cost me a pretty penny to use a private plane and even more to have it land here, but hey, having a shit load of money to burn has its perks.
The groom-to-be is in a foul mood and so angry with me, I’m sporting a black eye.
Let’s just say the news of us leaving the city and me ignoring Hallie’s request to stay in New York didn’t go down well at all.
He is annoyed I didn’t listen, furious that I still have a key and that Tony used it to get into his apartment, severely pissed off he gave me a black eye which will now show on every wedding picture I am in, seething that I paid actors to put bags over our heads and drag us onto the plane, and, to quote him, “Fucking livid there is no Boston meeting.” Sorry not sorry.
Not to worry, I tell myself. I’d weighed in on the possibility of him being mad about this weekend’s plans, and lucky for me, I have the perfect response to it all.
“Hey, Logan!” I run to catch up to him as he stomps toward the customer service desk wanting to get the next flight back to the city.
“Not now, dickhead,” he snaps over his shoulder.
“Okay, fine, but just so you are aware, this was for you, this was for us. It’s you’re welcome to married life party and the funeral for the end of our hit it and quit it life in one.”
I pause to catch my breath, and he stares down at the floor. “I know Hallie didn’t want you to leave the city, and I will take full responsibility when she asks, but she needn’t worry, and neither should you, that guy there”—I point to a man behind Tony— “that’s Jack Dawson. He’s our videographer and has been recording since we got onto the plane. Jack’s going to capture the whole bachelor party.”
Jack waves at Logan and mutters a “Yo” at him.
Logan doesn’t respond but kicks the floor like he’s hoofing an imaginary ball away and smirks. I know that smirk. Needing to confirm he’s on board, I add, “Look, Hallie has the rest of your life to have you. Just one night, Logan, then tomorrow afternoon we will catch the next flight back. I swear.”
To the brotherhood …
******
Sun, sea, and all our friends around us; what more could I want?
Pearl … no, don’t.
I should be enjoying this weekend away from the city. Any chance I’ve ever had to get away from the hustle and bustle of it, I’ve gone. Don’t get me wrong, it’s the best city in the world and I love that I am a true New Yorker, born and bred, but occasionally, I need that break, something quieter. That’s what I have with just the ocean around me and fresh sea air filling my lungs. Yet my mind is in overdrive over the stranger girl I kissed a few nights ago. Weirdly, everything about this trip is pulling me back to her. Every time I look out at the vivid blue water around me, I’m reminded of her sparkling blue eyes. What is she doing right now? I gave her my number, so why hasn’t she called or texted me? Did she lose the piece of paper I wrote it down on?
All these questions have me spiraling, and I can’t seem to get out of this funk I am in.
“Hey, you’ve been out here with that fishing rod in your hand for hours, you caught anything yet?” Logan chuckles as he drops a cold beer into my lap, causing me to jump at the freezing bottle hitting my crotch.
I screech, “Fuck, Logan!”
Everyone around us laughs, and Jack caught me on video. Shaking my head, I join in with their laughter.
“No, I haven’t caught a single thing yet, but you know me, I’m not going to back down from a challenge.” Little does he know; the challenge is Pearl and not catching a fish.
“Mm,” he says, taking a swig of his beer. “Can I check in with Pidge yet?” He gives me puppy dog eyes.
“Guys, Logan’s missing his lady. What do you say to him calling her now?” I shout so everyone on the yacht can hear me, then I wink at him. They all shout back responses.
“Make him walk the plank.”
“Throw him out to sea.”
“Feed him to the sharks.”
“Give him something stronger to drink.”
“So, that’s a, no?” Logan asks, but before anyone can answer, Bruce, a partner of ours at work, picks him up and launches him overboard. Running to the edge of the boat, we all look over the side, silent for a brief second before Logan surfaces, coughing and spluttering out the sea water. Laughing out loud, I rear backward and shout, “Bombs away” before sprinting toward the front deck and diving into the water.