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Once I’ve devoured every bite, I punch in my passcode and anxiously check my phone messages. I breathe a sigh of relief, but stop when her message fills my screen.
* * *
I believed in yesterdays, tomorrows and new beginnings
Then we were deprived of our happy ending
Now, I no longer believe in empty promises
Since my truth has been replaced with lies
LILIANNA
Hours later, I’m still trembling from my encounter in the elevator. I’ve tried soaking in a warm bath with a glass of wine and lounging in some comfy clothes to no avail. No matter what I do I can’t get rid of this feeling of trepidation. Since coming home, I’ve checked the door four times. Why? The poor man simply wanted to return my wallet, but in my mind I made him out to be the villain.
Maybe I should get the hell out of here. Go on a road trip or take a mini vacation. It just might be what I need to start my creative juices flowing again. God knows, I can’t sit here staring at the four walls. The same ones that kept Ryder and me safe and secure for so long. Or keep reminiscing about a man who inhaled my very breath only to exhale it back into my lungs with a heated kiss.
I can’t do this anymore.
I have nothing and no one holding me here against my will. I can come and go as I please and take my work along with me. All I need is my laptop and an internet connection. Most people would kill for a job like mine. Okay, my mind’s made up. I’m going to pack and get the hell outta here for a few days. And when I get back, hopefully I’ll have something significant to send my agent.
An hour later, I’m pulling into The Breakfast Inn, right across from Canal Marina. It’s not too far away from home and the scenery is breathtaking. I’ll be able to watch the boats coming in and out of the harbor while breathing in the fresh scent of the sea and feeling the salty air lick at my pallid skin. I’m hoping to be so relaxed that I’ll smash this writer’s block to smithereens. I desperately need to get something of real substance down on a piece of paper.
It’s funny, really, how everyone thinks an author’s life is all glitz and glamour. Well, take it from me, it’s not. For the most part, we’re all alone with the voices in our heads—which can be deafening at times. With no access to an on and off switch. If only it were that easy. Right now, I’d love to flip that switch on and welcome all those rowdy voices back with open arms. Shouting like only they can do as they outtalk one another. The main characters desperately wanting to be center stage. Unfortunately, they’ve been silent and uncommunicative. Making me long for the days when I couldn’t shut them up. Well, let’s hope this is the calm before the storm.
After unpacking my laptop and the few items I brought along for this short trip, I decide to grab a quick bite since I haven’t eaten all day. There’s no sense in trying to work on an empty stomach because my mind won’t be able to concentrate on the task at hand. It’ll be one less lame excuse for me to quit before I’ve even begun. A fresh Caesar salad or a hearty sandwich sounds like it would certainly do the trick.
I pick up the leaflet I received at the front desk and immediately dial room service. Chicken Caesar salad, dressing on the side, and a glass of rosé. I would’ve loved to have splurged and ordered a baguette with that, but I refrained. My stomach’s running on empty as it is and the last thing I want to do is pass out from a food coma. I’m here to write.
While I’m waiting for my food, I take the time to painstakingly arrange my laptop, notebook and pens atop the desk. Then I curl up in the high-backed chair, glance out at the sea and get lost in the rolling waves with their calm serenity. I’m certain I must have been a mermaid in one of my past lives because I could stare at it for hours and never get bored.
Several minutes tick by before a loud knock vibrates throughout the room, pulling me out of my daydream. I jump up and hurry to let the busboy in. “Good evening, ma’am. Where would you like me to set this up for you?”
“Ah, just set it down on that table, thank you.” The last thing I want is for him to fuss when my mind’s made up that I’ll be sitting out on the deck. It’s such a beautiful night here compared to home and I don’t want to waste a single moment of it. The sun will be setting soon, and I need all the inspiration I can get.
As soon as the door closes behind him, I lock it. Then I grab my delicious-looking salad and glass of wine and head out on the deck. It’s amazing what a change of scenery can do for the psyche. I just arrived and haven’t even had dinner yet, but I feel more relaxed than I’ve felt in months.
I stride over to the railing and glide my hands along the rough edge. Closing my eyes, I slowly inhale. Filling my lungs with the scent of rain that softly lingers in the air. Crisp and clean. Then I gradually exhale until I’ve no air left to expel and open my eyes. Could it be my imagination or does everything appear clearer? Sharper. In focus. If I’d known that going away for a few days would be the balm to soothe my aching soul, I would have done this months ago.
I grab my salad, sit down in the comfy chaise lounge and savor every bite. All the while, I watch the boats weave haphazardly in and out of the busy harbor. The horns caution the smaller boats to pass by first before the big ships can enter. Now that’s what I call precision at its finest. One wrong move and it could be a watery grave for one of the smaller boats.
I can’t help tearing up when the words “Who sunk my Battleship?” spring across my mind. Pops and I used to spend every waking minute playing Battleship on the weekends. Now, all I have left are a few faded photographs secured with an abundance of memories. My grandfather was my very first hero and I was his baby girl.
I’m entranced as I take a sip of wine and get lost in the tranquility that surrounds me. Finally, I’m at peace. I don’t realize how much time passes before the sun dips below the horizon. Which is my cue to grab my dirty dishes and head back inside. I’m suddenly exhausted from the wine and everything that transpired today. Perhaps it’s time to call it a night. A quick shower and a good night’s sleep will be just what I need. Then a fresh start in the morning will put my mind in perspective.
I’m just about to enter my room from the balcony when someone says, “And I was just beginning to enjoy the view.”
What the hell? I glance in the direction of said voice and my knees become weak when the owner of that voice strikes a match. His beautiful face is revealed in the orange glow. Normally, I’m a walking, talking Thesaurus, but he has rendered me speechless. This man oozes confidence and masculinity throughout every fiber of his being. And how the hell did I not notice before that our balconies are only separated by a wrought-iron railing?
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” the man said. “You were lost in thought before and I didn’t want to disturb you.”
The last thing I want to do is start a conversation, but it would be rude to ignore him. Wouldn’t it? “You didn’t startle me, I just have a million things on my mind right at the moment.”
“Ah, I see. And I’m not one of them,” he adds, while running his fingers through his unruly hair.
“How could you possibly be on my mind when we’ve never met?” I wish I could take that back when in three short strides, the railing is the only object separating us. Which he could easily hurdle with his long legs. This is the second time today my heart is in my throat.
“Oh, quite the contrary. We met at the Books & Babes afterparty last month. Briefly, I might add, but nevertheless, unforgettable.”
