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“Oh.”
I turned towards the bay and gestured up towards the clear skies overhead. “Besides, there’s not a cloud in the sky. Look at the water, Fiona. There’s hardly any wave action. Nothing is going to go wrong.”
“Hmm,” she grumbled. “Well, okay. But, please be careful.”
“Come with me,” I said, with a hint of a challenge in my tone.
Fiona’s eyes widened once again. “No. Oh no, Gabe. I-I couldn’t.”
I stepped close to Fiona. Reaching down, I cradled her upper arms. “Fiona. You’re a rational person. You have to know that what happened to your family… It’s not going to happen out in that bay. There’s not going to be any rogue waves. You’ve made so many strides in recent months. What better time than right now to confront your fear?”
Fiona turned her head and swallowed hard as she glanced in the direction of the aquamarine water. But almost as soon, she snapped her head in my direction again.
“Gabe, I can’t,” she said. Lifting her arms, Fiona held her hands up in front of her face. “I mean, look at me. I’m trembling just thinking about it.”
I released my grip from her shoulders and swallowed her shaky hands with my fingers. I held her there for a moment, until she calmed down and looked me in the eye.
“Fiona, I’m not going to make you do it. All right? But, I think you should. For yourself.”
She remained silent and looked up at me as I paused.
“I promise. Nothing will go wrong. At its deepest, the water in the bay is not more than twenty feet. We’ll put two life jackets on you and cover the lengths of both your arms and legs with water wings. You’ll be unsinkable.”
Fiona arched an eyebrow at me. “Hah, hah. I can swim, Gabe. That’s not the point.”
“Okay then, so whatd’ya say? Let’s give it a shot.”
As soon as I finished speaking, Fiona sucked in her lower lip and began to chew on it. While she did, I extended my hand in her direction, offering it to her.
“Come on.”
FIONA
I followed Gabe back inside the suite. As I entered, he made his way across the room towards the kitchen.
“We need to get some food in you, Fiona.” He paused and looked at me for a moment. “And I think a mimosa might be in order as well.”
Exhausted from what had just transpired on the veranda, I dragged myself towards the kitchen.
“I don’t want anything to drink, Gabe. It’s not even ten o’clock in the morning yet.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Gabe said, as he came around the corner and slid his hand against my lower back. He leaned in and placed a tender kiss on my cheek. “You’re on vacation today, Fiona, remember? There are no clocks.”
As he spoke, I plopped down on one of the nearby stools lining the opposite side of the kitchen countertop. Semi-slumped, I exhaled and dropped my hands in my lap. Gabe nodded as I turned and looked at him.
“I’ll make it a double,” he said.
For a half a second, I almost protested, but before I could, Gabe headed towards the refrigerator. I watched as he pulled out a bottle of champagne and a pitcher of orange juice. With a kick from his heel, Gabe closed the door and walked back towards me. Less than a minute later, he’d poured us a couple of glasses.
Passing one to me, he raised his.
“How about a toast?”
I shrugged. I wasn’t exactly in the toasting mood.
“Ah, come on now, Fiona. Cheer up. Look where you are! A beautiful island, hidden away from everyone, with the world’s most handsome bartender at your service.”
I looked up at him. A small grin came to my lips.
“Now see!” he exclaimed. “That’s more like it. How about that toast?”
“Okay. Well, what do you want to toast to?”
Without hesitating, Gabe continued. “I’d like to toast to you, Fiona. To your beauty, your strength and your courage.”
“Oh,” I muttered as he spoke. “I really don’t think…”
Gabe interrupted me. “Just shut up and drink the damn drink, woman.”
With that, he angled the long, slender flute in my direction. I smiled once more and did the same, clinking my glass into his. After a healthy swig, I closed my eyes as the alcohol-filled citrus rolled across my taste buds and slid down my throat.
It tasted so good—so good I took another sip right away. The cold of the cocktail stood in perfect contrast to the air inside the suite, made warm by the ever-present ocean breeze circulating about. Nearly half gone after only two sips, the drink sloshed a bit as I placed the glass on the countertop.
“Wow,” Gabe began. “For someone who doesn’t like to drink first thing in the morning that sure went down quick.”
Just then, he lifted the champagne bottle and offered to pour some more for me. Shaking my head, I slid my hand over the top of the glass.
“No thank you. If I drink any more than that, you’ll have to carry me to the boat.”
Gabe nodded. “Yeah, come to think of it, that’s probably a good idea. Let’s get you something to eat.”
“Okay,” I replied. “But not too much.”
Over the next several minutes I looked on in disbelief as Gabe made his way around the kitchen as easily as he did the boardroom. Without missing a beat, he cracked eggs, fried bacon and toasted bread to perfection. All the while he continued to sell me on the idea of the sailboat.
Even with the alcohol kicking in, I still had huge reservations about the excursion. But watching him at work soothed me in a way I couldn’t explain. It was as if nothing was beyond his capacity to accomplish… even something as simple as bacon and eggs.
“Here ya go,” he said, as he slid the plate across the counter.
It came to a spinning stop, directly beneath my face. I looked down at the perfectly round, sunny-side up eggs, crispy bacon and lightly buttered toast, arranged as if it were prepared at a five-star restaurant. I took another pull of my near-empty mimosa.
“I am… wow.”
Gabe flung the kitchen towel over his shoulder. “What? What’s wrong?”
I looked up at him. “Wrong? No, nothing’s wrong. Where did you learn to cook like this? As breakfasts go, this is about the most appetizing I’ve ever seen.”
Gabe nodded. “Wait ‘til you taste it.”
“Really?”
Gabe frowned. “No, Fiona, I made you breakfast so you could admire it. You want me to get your phone so you can take pictures of it also?”
“What?”
“Oh Jesus, nothing,” Gabe said, as he pointed at the plate. “Just eat, would ya?”
After a few bites, I had to admit he’d blown me away. The eggs were a delight, the bacon salty, with just the right amount of crisp… and the way he prepared the toast… Adding anything to it besides butter would have been a crime.
“Well?” he said, as I swallowed a bite.
“Gabe, it’s… delicious. Where did you learn to cook?”
Gabe leaned against the counter. “When I was in college, all four years of undergrad, I worked the night shift as the short-order cook at a greasy spoon downtown. It’s good, right?”
In all the long hours I’d worked on the Link Protocol with Gabe, I don’t think I’d ever seen him beam with the kind of pride he displayed in that moment. As much as I hated to admit it, it had been easy for me to forget Gabe hadn’t always been the man who stood before me today. He’d come up the hard way, fighting for his success every step along the way.
I had the distinct feeling that as he smiled at me, he was every bit as proud of the breakfast he’d made, if not more so, than the hundreds of billions he stood to make on the Link Protocol. Just then, I realized I’d sat there in admiration of him for a few moments too long.
“What’s wrong?” he said, as he leaned away from me. Disappointment creased his brow.
I sat forward in a hurry, snapping myself out of it.
“N-No,” I stammered, as I searched my mind for an appropriate lie. “I was just thinking about the sailing trip again. I’m sorry, Gabe. It is… well, it’s the best breakfast I’ve ever eaten. What more can I say?”
Gabe nodded his head and smiled. “Good. I’m glad you like it.”
FIONA
Just as he finished speaking, Gabe leaned in and kissed me, sliding his hand behind my head as he did. Although I probably should have expected it and resisted, the simple fact was he’d caught me by surprise and I didn’t.
It was such a beautiful place and the truth was that I was tired. In reality, nothing would have felt better than the satin-like feel of his lips against mine just then. I relented and leaned into Gabe, giving in to his strength and my need for it. Without a word, he separated his lips from mine.
“Give me your hand,” he said.
Still in a daze from our kiss, I did as he asked. “Why?”
“Well, Fiona, we have to shower,” he began, as he tugged at me, pulling me off the stool. “You can’t get in the ocean dirty. That just wouldn’t be polite.”
“Oh, I see.”
Within minutes, Gabe stripped away what resistance I pretended to still have, and, after starting the shower, he reached down and grabbed hold of the door handle, tugging it open. Trailing Gabe’s chiseled backside into the heated mist, I watched as he walked under one of two large showerheads.
