Chapter 15
Nate isn’t in the bungalow when I finish a much-needed shower after mountain biking through a rainforest. Thanks to spin class, it was an excursion I wasn’t terrible at. Better than yesterday’s sand boarding, where I became overly familiar with the taste of sand.
I tighten my bathrobe, glancing at the clock. It’s too early for Nate to have gone to dinner without me, but he could have needed to do something for the show, gone for a walk, taken a private phone call, or hit up the gym.
There are a million acceptable reasons he’d be out when we hadn’t discussed dinner plans, but my brain doesn’t accept any of them. I look out the glass doors at the deck again, expecting to see Nate on a lounge chair typing on his laptop.
Nate still isn’t here. Not that he couldn’t go places alone or without letting me know first. He doesn’t owe me anything!
I just assumed we’d grab dinner together, given we had the past two nights.
Without his presence in the bungalow, something almost feels off.
Absurd, given Nate is only warming Brody’s spot.
Brody is who I miss, or my life back home. Corina.
I haven’t talked to Corina since getting to Fiji. Between the twin-switch plan, the execution of said plan, and then discovering Brody signed me up to take part in the show, there hadn’t been time. Not to mention dinner with Nate, or the double-date breakfast with the honeymooning couple.
No, not a date. Work. Everything we’re doing here is for the sake of the show.
I plop onto the king-sized bed with my tablet, tapping the icon next to Corina’s name to launch a video call. If anyone can help me get my head on right, it’s her.
“Girl!” she answers before the second ring. “It’s been far too long since we talked, but also perfect timing.” She spins the camera in a full circle, revealing my living room and kitchen.
“You’re at my apartment?”
“Jasper says hello! Or meow. Whatever noise cats make to say, ‘hello, Mom, I’m having the most wonderful time with Auntie Corina.’”
There is a pressure behind my eyes that’s hard to explain. Not quite homesickness, but a bit of longing for things I can make sense of. The predictable. The safe. “That sounds like a dinosaur roar.”
Corina frowns and collapses onto the living room couch, the lavender walls making her plum lipstick and tanned skin pop. “He wasn’t saying exactly that then, but we are having a great time.”
To support her claim, Jasper hops onto the couch next to her and swats at the phone screen. I barely get out a high-pitched greeting—reminding Jasper he’s the cutest, most cuddly cat to exist—before he takes off again.
“So tell me, how’s Fiji and the show? The content on Brody’s socials is great, but I need more. Tell me everything.”
The pressure behind my eyes increases. Fiji is more difficult than expected for reasons I can’t tick off on my fingers so much as feel deep in my core. How could I begin to explain it when Corina doesn’t even know I’m here with Nate instead of Brody?
I force a smile. “It’s different than I imagined. The production team wants to try a new angle where I also do the excursions as a newbie in the adrenaline junkie world.”
“You’re going to be starring in Rush?”
“Not starring. Just participating.”
“Oh my gosh! I can’t believe Brody is sharing the spotlight with you.”
Technically, it’s Nate sharing the spotlight, but doing so had been Brody’s idea. I wave off her comment. “It’s a marketing ploy. He figures it’ll bring in more female viewers and those curious about becoming an adrenaline junkie.”
She’s nodding along, then hesitates. “You’re fine with this?”
“Yeah.” It’s not a total lie. “But the show is challenging.” Complicated. Downright confusing.
“I suppose it would be, otherwise anyone could do it, right?”
She’s not wrong, though that’s what’s happening this season.
“I imagine it’s difficult to balance with your brand work,” she says. “Don’t let filming get in the way of that.”
“I won’t, but Cor…” I clear my throat and get to the root of the issue. “There are water activities.”
It’s Corina, so it’s all I have to say for her to understand perfectly.
“Oh, honey.”
I sniff, hoping Corina doesn’t catch the sound.
“You want to talk about it?”
I nod at my best friend, the only one who can truly understand what a big deal this is, and walk her through the jet skiing excursion in a level of detail that would bore anyone else.
Even Brody, who claims he wants to hear everything from set.
What he really means is he wants to hear every detail he deems pertinent to judge how Nate and I are doing.
“Wow,” she says when I’m done.
“I know. I didn’t expect any of this when I agreed to Fiji,” I say, careful not to mention the actual cause of the show’s new angle.
Though would Brody share the spotlight for any other reason?
“I can’t help but feel I’m letting everyone down.
I somehow managed the sandboarding and mountain biking and zipline course, but the ‘simple’ jet ski excursion?
That I couldn’t do, and it’s too embarrassing to talk about with anyone else. ”
“I meant, wow, you got on the jet ski.”
“Sat on it. While parked or anchored or whatever. Not exactly doing the excursion.”
“Abigail, you got on the jet ski,” she repeats slower, as if I’m not capable of understanding her meaning any other way. “A month ago—heck, a week ago—you wouldn’t even have tried.”
She’s right, but it’s a biased perspective. “It’s not like there’s a lot of jet skiing in Vegas, Cor.”
She rolls her eyes. “It’s more about going into a large body of water like that. You achieved something major, Abigail. Don’t miss the opportunity to bask in all you’ve accomplished.”
That right there is one of many reasons this wonderful woman is my best friend.
Working at the same place helped, but that was more the catalyst for us meeting.
Now, I can’t imagine a life without her.
A scary thought when I already know people leave more than they stay, and the significant ones can leave a crater-sized emptiness in their wake.
“Okay, I gotta go find Na—” I catch myself just in time, “Brody and see what the plan is for dinner.”
If Corina notices I was about to say another man’s name, she says nothing. “Okay, love you, girly! I’ll catch you later. Keep in touch better and send more photos!”
“Bye. Love you.”
I end the call and check the time. It’s almost eight. Whether Nate plans on dining together, I’m going to need to eat something. My stomach growls, confirming my point.
I quickly change into my flowing purple midi dress, swipe on some lip gloss, and grab my round rattan purse before heading out the door. If I’m going to dine alone, I’m at least going to look like a woman with someone waiting for her.
It’s a beautiful night. Clear, inky skies are dotted with countless stars full of possibility as I walk toward the restaurant. How would Nate describe this moment in one of his books? They’re suspense novels, so the description would be darker…more sinister.
The dark blanket of a sky smothered the stars, but their glow still shone through—for now.
Ha! I’ll see if he wants that line for one of his books.
I’m still laughing to myself when I reach the restaurant. If I can’t save my career, I can try hacking it as a writer. It’s a safer choice than becoming a thrill-seeker full-time.
I get in the short queue for the host stand, feeling better after my chat with Corina and the pleasant walk over here.
So good, I almost don’t notice the familiar face at the bar.
The man has sharp cheekbones, a square jaw softened by a light layer of stubble, and dark hair pulled back into Brody’s signature bun. Nate.
My stomach flips at the sight. He’s here!
I’m about to join him when he leans back on his barstool and I realize what’s really going on.
Jamie is next to him, her curls bouncing with her laughter over something Nate has said.
Her hand comes to rest on his forearm—an overly familiar gesture Nate doesn’t pull away from, even though I raised concerns about her.
I had, hadn’t I? At least enough that it’d have been easy for him to infer my apprehension about Jamie’s intentions. Now…
I should interrupt them. March over and demand an explanation, but my feet remain firmly planted and I can’t look away. Why can’t I look away? It’s not right to spy, but it’s all I have left.
“Bula!” a voice greets, sounding oceans away as I watch the bar.
I instinctively grab my locket. Faced with the same circumstances, Sarah would reclaim her man, clear the air with the woman, and have everyone laughing together in minutes with her man’s arm wrapped around her waist and a smile lifting his eyes.
But this isn’t my man. It’s Nate. He owes me nothing more than a good acting job. Even though my brain can recognize this isn’t my boyfriend, my heart cracks all the same.
I need to get out of here. Go back to the bungalow and feign sleep by the time Nate gets back. Who knows what I’d say to him in this state?
“Ma’am?” The voice says again, this time louder. I turn and find the host waiting. I’m at the front of the queue to be seated, and all I want is to run.
“Will you be joining us for dinner?” The host asks.
“Not tonight.” My words are a rush, and my actions a flurry as I step out of line so the host can seat the next group. There’s no way I can stay when Jamie and Nate are here. Not when he, intentionally or not, betrayed me.
I’m about to leave, but my attention is still on Jamie as her hand slides up Nate’s arm. In the same seamless motion, she leans over and presses her lips to his.
The restaurant blurs, and I’m immediately dizzy.
It helps block the scene in front of me, but it also makes it impossible to race out of there, despite every cell in my body telling me to run.
I spin around, smacking into a waitress carrying a full tray of drinks.
The glasses topple over and shatter around me, drenching the hem of my lavender maxi dress, but I’m more worried about the noise.
The commotion draws attention from across the restaurant, probably even the bar.
I drop to the ground in front of the host’s stand, not caring that the hand I’m using to steady myself is pressing into small shards of glass on the ground. All that matters is ensuring Jamie and Nate don’t see me.
“Ma’am?” The host’s voice rings out again, this time with an edge of concern. “Is everything okay?”
“Yes,” I squeak, forcing a few deep breaths before noticing a sprig of rosemary next to my sandal. A casualty of the drinks I knocked over. I pluck the sprig from the floor, holding it up as if it’s a logical explanation for anything. “Just getting this garnish off me.”
As I slowly rise, I watch Jamie and Nate. I can’t see their faces, but they’re keeping their limbs and lips to themselves. The crashing tray of drinks had one perk then, but there’s no way I’m hanging around to find out what happens next.
“I should go,” I say, more to myself than the host, who’s still eyeing me. She’s probably trying to figure out if there’s any country in which my current behavior would suggest I am, in fact, okay. “Sorry about the mess.”
Without another glance at Nate, I run out of the restaurant and into the night. I’m halfway back to our bungalow, still debating if I can at least pretend to be asleep by the time Nate returns, when I pause to catch my breath.
And save my feet because these sandals really aren’t designed for running. Neither am I. How Nate does it most mornings is beyond me.
I look up at the night sky, this time seeing the stars from a new perspective. They aren’t objects of admiration. They’re dots of white out—attempts to cover parts of the sky someone didn’t like or care to see. Hiding the truth or willfully ignoring it.
It’s what I’ve been doing with Nate. Back in Vegas, he showed time and time again who he really is. Now here, at the first sign of Nate not being nearly as awful as I first imagined, I’m quick to cover up and dismiss all the other parts of him I know to be true.
But he’s still that person. The guy who bails on his brother, the man who shows up late to the airport, the one who avoids meeting me for so long because he assumes I’ll be a floozy.
After what I saw tonight, I feel like that floozy for letting my guard down. For trusting Nate and believing in this friendship-like thing between us. For thinking this, the plan, or me could be enough.
It’s a mistake I wouldn’t make again.