CHAPTER 26
CHAPTER 26
NESS STRETCHED OUT ON THE PRISTINE WHITE SHEETS OF HER KING-SIZE bed at a hotel on Great Exuma. Smelling of sandalwood and vanilla, wrapped in a robe so soft and fluffy she felt like a human cotton ball, she wondered what she was supposed to do now.
Outside, gray clouds covered the sky, promising a mid-morning shower, which, from her current clean, dry, fed, and hydrated position, didn’t seem so bad. Four stories below, the ocean lapped lazily at the sand, where waitstaff delivered brightly colored drinks with paper umbrellas to vacationers who refused to give up their beach time because of a little rain.
They’d been holed up there for three days, talking to the authorities, avoiding the seething horde of media camped outside, and, in Ness’s case, trying to escape from what seemed thus far to be an unrelenting mental haze.
Rescue had arrived as they’d beached the flamingo boat and were trying to figure out how to restrain a near-apoplectic Tyler, who had regained consciousness on the way in. Libby had been lobbying for hitting him on the head with a rock when the snappy blue and white boat zoomed in carrying a number of concerned members of the Royal Bahamas Defence Force. Libby had quickly abandoned the rock.
Tyler, Ian, and Bradley had been transported for medical attention at a local hospital, while Hayes, Ness, Libby, Coco, and Daisy were assessed and declared to be in “surprisingly good health,” if a little dehydrated, and were administered IV liquids in the comfort of their hotel rooms. Daisy credited yoga. Coco named gin as the real savior.
Libby sported bruised ribs, courtesy of the python, and had flown in an assistant to her assistant the same afternoon to make sure that all of her needs would be taken care of as expeditiously as possible while she recovered.
At first, Ness had reveled in the ability to shower in endless hot water and sleep in a clean bed and eat precisely cubed fruit salads and steaming oatmeal dappled with fat raisins, doused in real Canadian maple syrup. She devoured pepperoni pizza and sipped on frosty beer, loving the feeling of the pre-chilled glass against her hand and the richness of the food, even if it gave her some horrendous stomach cramps later. Then, slowly but surely, reality had crept in.
They were on their way out of the bubble now, heading into the real world. Hayes’s mom and sister had been waiting for him at the hotel. They’d flown in as soon as he’d been reported missing and had been out on volunteer boats helping with the search every day since.
They’d greeted Ness warmly, which had surprised and delighted her. Given everything that had happened between her and Hayes, and knowing how close he was to his family, she hadn’t been sure what to expect.
Since then, Hayes had been in phone meetings and on video calls almost constantly, assuring everyone he was okay and working to get filming schedules back on track. It seemed to Ness that he was quickly forgiven for any inconvenience he may have caused, but Hayes was determined to go above and beyond to make it up to everyone. In between, though, he was with her. In her room. In her bed. Her shower. Testing the strength and soundproofing of the walls. As with all his performances, he put in 110 percent.
If Ginger Cay had been a bubble of unreality, this was no better. If anything, Ness might argue, it was worse. Outside of planning how to get home and what to do when she got there, her days were wide open for luxuriating in Hayes’s extremely skilled embrace. It was impossible for things to continue like this once they left. They were insulated here. Protected—literally: there was an army of security personnel keeping reporters and the nosy public at bay. Their personal employees (not that Ness had any) and the hotel staff were treating them with kid gloves, giving them time and space to process the last week. Her time with Hayes barely felt real.
At first, Ness was concerned she’d had unrealistic expectations. Years of pent-up yearning and regrets, combined with the stress of the island and subsequent rescue, had her body screaming for physical release.
Hayes had come to her room that first night, when the police were done with them for the day, and their clothes had been on the floor within moments of the door locking behind him. But despite how much Ness knew she wanted him, had wanted him seemingly forever, her brain wouldn’t cooperate.
He was doing all the right things. Saying everything she’d dreamed he would say in that sexy, husky voice that made her tremble. Touching her exactly where she wanted to be touched. But while years of books, movies, and television would have her believe she should be well on her way to orgasm central after a single thrust, she seemed to have misplaced her ticket for that particular ride.
When she’d told him she wasn’t going to be entering O-Town that night, instead of doubling down and trying to prove her wrong until she was forced to fake it to wrap things up, he’d ordered them a six-pack of beer and run a bath. They’d stayed in the steaming water until midnight, stewing themselves, sipping the ice-laden beverages they’d been dreaming of for the past week, and seeing who could make the other person laugh harder with endless, increasingly ridiculous stories from the time they’d been apart.
Ness had been an exhausted prune when they had finally gotten out. Hayes had tucked her into bed, closed the curtains, and asked if she needed anything else. She’d pulled him under the covers alongside her and, listening to his steady breathing, fallen into a dreamless sleep.
At first light she’d awoken, extremely content in her little-spoon position. As his hand had trailed slowly down her ribs and dipped between her thighs, she’d discovered that, lo and behold, O-Town was open for business.
Their time in limbo was coming to an end, though. Hayes would be flying to Hawaii the next morning. Ness thought this was lunacy. He needed to sleep for two weeks and eat a wheelbarrow of carbs each day and, most importantly, stay with her. But she’d known this would happen, hadn’t she? Somehow, living it was different.
Part of her was looking forward to getting home. Turning Tides wasn’t happening for the foreseeable future, if ever. It was time to get back to reality, even if it wasn’t the reality she’d been hoping for. If nothing else, she told herself, she was coming out of this mentally and emotionally stronger than when she’d entered it. Acting had waited this long; she could figure out another way back in if she still wanted one. Plus, think of all the fodder she had for therapy now! New topics! Her therapist would be thrilled.
There was a knock on the door.
“Room service!”
Ness rolled from the bed and tightened her robe. She hadn’t ordered anything, but Hayes had taken to having things delivered to her throughout the day when he couldn’t pop in himself. Yesterday she’d received a tray of chocolate croissants with a steaming pot of tea on the side, then an enormous bouquet of flowers, and, finally, a stack of romance novels that ended up being from Ian, who had been released from the hospital and immediately checked himself back into rehab.
She swiped a hand over her hair to smooth the worst of the fly-aways and opened the door. A man stood in the hallway, his sandy gray hair brushed to the side. He wore tidy khaki shorts and a royal-blue golf shirt with a repeating pattern of small embroidered birds flapping across it.
He smiled.
Ness blinked, dumbstruck.
“Dad?”
* * *
“I had to see you in person and make sure you’re okay. I’ve been sick with worry ever since your disappearance was on the news.” He sat in the small living area of her hotel room, leaning forward on the pristine white love seat, forearms resting on his knees. Ness had taken the armchair and schooled her face into some semblance of calm while her mind short-circuited.
She’d come very close to slamming the door in his face, which, she felt, would have been warranted. But even as she’d started to do so, she knew she couldn’t. They hadn’t spoken, not a single time, since he’d left, and while logically she knew hearing his side wouldn’t change anything or make what he’d done hurt less, some part of her hoped it would let her finish healing and finally, truly, leave him behind. And, maybe, a tiny part of her still thought he might show up with a valid reason, or at least real remorse.
“Well, I’m fine. Thanks for coming by.” She stood, employing the universal signal for Now you can leave. He didn’t play along.
“I know you’re probably angry with me.”
“Why would you think that?” She put every drop of sarcasm she had behind it.
He waggled a finger at her like she was a naughty child.
“Now, Ness. It was time for you to be in charge of your own destiny. I coddled you, as hard as that is to admit. It was so hard after your mom . . . Well, it was important for you to start seeing the consequences of your actions and get your head in the game. With me around taking care of every little detail . . .” He lifted his shoulders and let them drop. “You were becoming a bit of a spoiled brat, if I’m being honest.”
“And your solution was to steal my money and abandon me? You didn’t consider something a little less dramatic? A conversation? Maybe taking a step back from the business side of my life and, oh gosh, this sounds silly, but being my dad?”
She watched as he puffed up like an indignant bird.
“You’re forgetting that I’m the reason you got those paychecks. Do you know how hard I worked to get you to the top? I gave up everything so you could pursue your dream!” His face flushed. His fists clenched at his sides.
She tilted her head and kept her voice even.
“It was your dream too. And it was my money. I earned it. For years and years, Dad, I earned it while you had drinks on the golf course and shopped for new cars so you could look the part. This wasn’t a business relationship! I was a kid and you were my father. You were supposed to watch out for me.”
“You knew I was entitled to a percentage as your manager.”
“How’s the wellness center?”
The abrupt change in topic made him pause. He took a deep breath and reached out to pour a cup of coffee from the carafe on the table. He’d gotten old, she noticed. He’d had enough work done on his face to hide the worst of it, but his hands gave him away. They were mottled with age spots, the skin thin and brittle-looking.
“It’s under new management.”
“Ah. Why are you here? Really?”
He sat back, leaving the coffee untouched. Tenting his fingers, he looked her up and down, all business.
“You’re going to need help. Have you been outside? The media are circling like sharks tasting blood in the water. You have a real opportunity here. I’m talking book deals, exclusive interviews. The public is dying to hear about what happened on that island. You’ve never been good at advocating for yourself. You need someone on your side. Someone you can trust.”
She stifled a laugh, disbelieving, as she tried to find words powerful enough to express how unbelievable this was.
He narrowed his gaze. “Tell me you have the tapes.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Come on, Agnes. It’s all anyone is talking about. Do you know where they are?” There was a hungry look in his eyes that made Ness feel sick. She paused, taking a deep breath. She was done.
“You should go now.”
“You can’t do this alone. You need me.”
“I haven’t needed you in twenty years and I won’t be starting now.”
“I’ll sell my story. I can do this with or without you.” He sounded desperate. Ness wondered just how far in debt he was these days.
“I’m sure you’ll do what’s best for you.”
“You won’t see me again, Agnes. Not ever,” he said threateningly.
Ness walked to the door and held it open, certain she was doing the right thing. It felt good.
“I’m counting on it.”
* * *
Hayes did, in fact, fly to Hawaii the next morning for three months on the set of Alpha Lunar.After hearing about the visit from her father, he’d offered to stay. Then he’d offered to hire a private investigator to dig up some dirt (because there had to be some) and have him arrested so he couldn’t bother Ness again. And, finally, when she had assured him time and time again that she would be okay, that he needed to go, that they’d known this was going to happen, he had kissed her and promised they would make it work this time.
Ness woke up to an email from his assistant, asking that she let him know when she was ready to go back to Toronto and whether there were any dietary preferences the staff on the private jet should know about. She left that afternoon, mourning her contribution to global warming while sipping champagne and wondering how long this could last.
After a tearful reunion with friends and dealing with a laundry list of tenant issues over the next couple of weeks, her time on Ginger Cay began to feel like nothing but a bad dream. Except, then Hayes would Face Time her, asking about her day and whether she was ready for a Hawaiian vacation yet and telling her she was beautiful in the blue light of her phone screen when she’d been up since four that morning dealing with noise complaints and overflowing toilets.
It was hard to reconcile.
Coco had checked in a couple of times, as had Daisy. Though they’d reached out separately, Ness could have sworn they were in the same New York apartment, but she wouldn’t pry. Not yet, at least. Both were back at work, having quickly booked gigs to replace Turning Tides, and while they kept talking about the three of them getting together, Ness wasn’t confident it would happen anytime soon. They’d get there eventually, though, and she was looking forward to that.
Autumn had begun to descend on Toronto. It was Ness’s favorite time of year, when the leaves were turning fiery orange and deep red but the temperature during the day still hit something well above freezing. This was the season for last hurrahs on charming neighborhood restaurant patios and breaking out cozy sweaters to fight off the evening chill.
Ian, much to Ness’s surprise, kept in touch, sending reading recommendations and asking her when she was going to book an acting gig instead of digging dryer lint out of blocked vents.
Audrey, agent to Mature Women, was asking the same question. Weekly.
“You should go to this casting. They asked for you.”
“Ehhhhh, I don’t know if I’m ready,” Ness would answer, scrolling through an Excel sheet of her monthly cash flow, trying to make the number at the bottom turn green. Maybe if she cut protein from her diet . . .
She could all but see Audrey throwing up her hands in frustration.
“You’re missing the wave, Ness. It’s time to hop on the surfboard and take a ride to Employment Beach.”
“I’ll think about it.”
In the end, Libby made the choice for her, showing up at her door on a cloudy October morning with a script in one hand and balancing a Kim Beauty–branded rose gold case against her hip.
Her long, glossy black hair was shinier than ever before. Her bow-shaped lips glistened with an autumnal shade of deep umber that suited her perfectly. She smelled like bergamot with undertones of vanilla and money. She thrust the metal box at Ness, gliding past her into the apartment.
“What are you doing here?”
“Meetings.” She waved her manicured hand vaguely and turned in a circle, taking in Ness’s humble abode.
“I come in peace,” she continued, while staring disdainfully at a print of the city skyline. “That”—she nodded to the case—“is my apology gift.”
Ness flipped open the top and was greeted by what was very likely thousands of dollars’ worth of Kim Beauty products.
“Um, thanks?”
Libby lowered herself carefully onto the worn gray couch, thwacking the script onto the table.
“This”—she pointed to the stack of bound paper—“is the second part of the gift.”
Ness, head spinning, picked it up and dropped into her favorite armchair.
Gallivant
Written by
Morris Wagner
“Did Audrey send you?”
“No one sends me. I’ve been in therapy since . . . everything happened. I’m making amends. I may have, er, misstepped on occasion while we were on the island.”
“Remember that time you declared me guilty of trapping everyone there and recording private moments and then you locked me in a room after I saved you from a person-eating snake?”
“Vaguely.”
“How does this”—Ness waved the script back and forth, the paper flopping—“make up for that?”
“Stop whining and read it.”
Ness didn’t stop whining, but when she was done sharing her feelings and listening to Libby’s, she showed her out, feeling like they were back on even, if tentative, footing. Then she poured herself a generous glass of wine and read.
And fell in love. It was a pilot for a dark comedy about a woman in her forties who’s trying to get back into dating after her husband’s untimely passing. But, unfortunately, her dates also keep turning up dead.
She called Libby the next day, after a sleepless night weighing her options and realizing she had nothing to lose.
“Great, we’re even, then.”
“Why did you bring this to me?” It was the question Ness couldn’t let go of.
There was a lengthy pause.
“This may surprise you, but I don’t have a lot of friends. I was hoping we could . . . do that.”
Ness’s forehead creased in consternation even as her lips started to turn up in a smile. “You want to be friends. With me.”
“It’s probably a terrible idea. You’re still a train wreck.” She sighed. “But I’m in a giving phase.”
“Alright,” Ness said, trying not to laugh and failing miserably. “Why not?”