Riley opened his eyes and looked at his bedside clock. 12:13 in the afternoon gave him five solid hours of sleep and a wicked headache, probably from the tequila. It had been a long while since he used the tequila trick, and he now remembered why he stopped using it. His flight for Miami left later today, and he still needed to pack, which is what he planned to do yesterday before he got sidetracked. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, trying to decide if he wanted to go back to sleep or go ahead and brave the day.
Crazy thing about braving the day is that if a person sees it that way, that’s how it becomes, a day to be braved. To brave the day means to suffer through it or endure it, but it can also mean to face it or to stand up to it. Perception of the word was key to how the next two weeks in the Caribbean would go. Riley’s perception had changed after his tequila-induced slumber. He was no longer going to endure or suffer through each day. This time, he was going to face the day with a positive attitude. No more Mr. Broody Pants, as Darby called him.
He was going to focus on the good things in his life. He was in great health. He had great friends. His job was kinda cool; he made enough money to create a pretty good-sized investment portfolio. And he could cling to the small hope that he didn’t completely screw things up with Vanessa. Plus, his shoot on the Caribbean island was scheduled to begin tomorrow. Repairs to the island didn’t take as long as planned, which he had learned at the production meeting on Sunday. Two weeks working would distract him enough to gain a little focus. He would try Vanessa in Texas again on his way home, but for now, he had packing to do. He just had to get out of bed. Positive thinking took a while to travel to the rest of his body.
On the plane ride home yesterday, he told Emily and Darby where he would be if Vanessa came looking for him, but he decided to write her a note in case she showed up while he was gone. He had to ignore the feeling that crept around his thoughts that Vanessa may never want to be with him. It was too soon to think that way. However, when he picked up his phone to see no missed calls or texts, the feeling hovered like an ominous cloud. Packing and reviewing the script was just what he needed to distract him. He just hoped it worked.
***
The climate change slapped Riley in the face once he stepped out of the tiny airport of the small Caribbean island off the coast of Florida. At almost midnight, the temp was still in the eighties.
The balmy mid-seventy-degree temps he left in L.A. were traded for a soupy, upper-ninety-degree mugginess. The next few days setting up scenes and shooting seemingly endless take after take, filming from different angles, was comforting. It was only during the down time that he thought of Vanessa. Still no texts or phone calls from her. Each day he didn’t hear from her made it difficult to hang on to the hope that he ever would see her again.
Since he had planned for her to come with him, he had a hard time not imagining what they would do together if she was here: walk along the beach, have picnics, lay by the pool, have sex. He both loved and loathed those fantasies, but loathing won out, so he decided to keep as busy as possible. When he wasn’t running lines with the other actors, he offered his help with everything from setting up to cleaning up.
Because of his helpfulness, he made friends with the crew members, and they offered to buy him a drink at the resort’s outside bar. The production company had rented the entire west side of the very large Pelican Resort for the crew and actors, and they could interact and move around without any interference from fans, curious onlookers, or paparazzi. The crew sat by the pool telling their favorite stories about other movie sets and embarrassing tales of other actors’ mishaps. Riley, grateful that they could lounge in privacy, laughed and kidded with them. He much preferred to be around these guys than the other actors, who all seemed to be a little full of themselves.
“So, Riley,” Joey, one of the camera guys, began over his third beer, “who’s this mystery girl the press is so obsessed with?”
Darby had informed Riley that the paps were snooping into Vanessa’s identity. She assured him they knew nothing, and another actor’s drug-induced swing at a cop diverted their attention.
He looked down into his bottle. “Can we talk about something else?”
“Wait,” Sandy, Joey’s wife and head makeup artist, leaned forward, “what is this all about? A week ago the buzz was that you two were head over heels for each other.”
“A week ago, we were.” He leaned back in his chair and told them most of the story. He didn’t tell them the circumstances surrounding their meeting other than Charles introduced them, and he protected her identity. However, he told them everything else: how they met, how she sustained her injuries, how she came to live with him, how connected he felt to her, how she freaked out, how Charles sabotaged things, how she bolted, how he found out what Charles had done, how her best friend told him about the step mother, and finally, how he flew to Texas with disappointing results. Blame it on the beer, but it kinda felt good to get it off his chest to truly objective ears. When he was finished, the rest of the table sat speechless.
“Wow, I’m sorry I dumped all that on you guys,” he groaned, slightly mortified that he had admitted so much to almost complete strangers. His normal commitment to his privacy seemed to be out the window.
“She will come around, Riley,” Sandy said reassuringly. “You’re a great guy.”
“I wouldn’t have stopped at punching that jerk in the nose,” Gabe, the sound guy, added. “If you want, my cousin is connected.” He put his finger next to his nose indicating that his cousin had some questionable connections. “He can help you out with this Charles guy. No one would ever know what happened to this guy.”
Riley laughed. “Whoa, that’s a… hmmm, I’m not sure how to respond to that. I mean I did fire him, and I made him a lot of money that he will not be making anymore. Plus, I might still tell his wife. That’d hurt him way more than anything your cousin could do. But I can’t help thinking that if it weren’t for Charles, I wouldn’t have met her. I kinda can’t help owing him for that. Thanks for the offer, though.”
“So, what are you going to do, Riley?” Sandy asked.
“Wait, for now. I was thinking about stopping by on the way back home next week, but now, I just don’t know.”
“I’d get a lap dance,” Mike, some sort of technician, slurred. “It’ll make you feel better.”
“That’s your solution to everything,” Joey said. “He got a lap dance when his grandmother died.”
“And it made me feel better.” Everyone laughed.
After another thirty minutes of stories and laughter, Riley got up. “Thanks for the drinks, everyone. I have an early day tomorrow, and it’s a long one. Good night.” He walked away.
“Riley, wait,” Sandy called and caught up to him. “I don’t know this girl at all, but I’m going to offer you some advice. If it were me, your silence would tell me that you didn’t really mean what you say. I think you need to fight for her. In your absence, she is convincing herself that you don’t love her, so you need to convince her you do.”
“But she should know it.”
“Should know it and will allow herself to know it are two different things. Gosh, you really don’t get it, do you?” She shook her head and closed her eyes. “Riley, she thinks you are too good to be real. You need to prove to her that she does deserve you. Trust me on this.” Sandy blinked back a tear. When Riley raised his eyebrows in question, she added, “Let’s just say I can identify with what damage a verbally abusive stepmother can do.”
Riley hugged Sandy. “Thank you, Sandy. I’ll go see her on the way home.”
“You better.” She quickly kissed him on the cheek and left him to go back to the group.
Now he just had to brave through the next week.
***
By the following Friday, Riley had been on the island two weeks. He finally had a day that promised to keep him busy. Fourteen glorious hours of non-stop acting. He just wished he had slept the night before. He spent a second evening with his new friends, and even though he had three beers, which should have relaxed him, he couldn’t disengage his mind all night. But today, he had to focus. They were to finish the big fight scene they rehearsed yesterday. He had to get his head in it so he didn’t hurt anyone or get hurt.
They shot through lunch without a hitch. Riley sat in front of Sandy for some effects makeup after a quick sandwich; he was ready to finish shooting. He had remained focused through the early part of the shoot. Sitting in that chair, he saw someone move with a familiarity that surprised him, only a fleeting glance of what looked like Vanessa, but he discounted it. Mind tricks. It couldn’t be her. He was seeing things. He tried to shake it and prepared for the rest of the day.
The afternoon went horribly. He kept missing his marks and flubbing his lines. They eventually got through the scenes, but it took two more hours than they had planned.
He dragged himself back to the hotel defeated and exhausted and took a shower. It was his worst day ever on a set. He told everyone it was because he thought he was coming down with something, so he decided to hide in his bungalow all day tomorrow. He was not due on set again until Sunday, the final day of shooting.
He decided to go out to the pool-side bar to order a couple of beers to take to his room. Beers in hand, he turned and walked from the bar past the pool and stopped. He almost dropped his beer, for standing there in front of him, seemingly flesh and blood, was the subject of all of his past two weeks’ fantasies. He stared at her for an immeasurable moment, taking in the sun kissed glow on her face, making her eyes bluer and her hair seem blonder. The simple red cotton sun dress she wore almost touched the ground, and although it accentuated her ample breasts nicely, it’s shapeless form did nothing to show off her curves. A thought of removing the sundress flashed in his mind, and he felt all his blood rush south at the thought. He had to get control; getting a hard on at first sight was probably unwise.
She was more beautiful than he had ever seen her, but he was unable to read the expression on her face. He hoped his expression didn’t give away his lustful wishes. He closed his eyes for a long moment trying to erase the inappropriate thought because if he opened his eyes and she wasn’t there, it would kill him.
But she was still there.
“So that was you I saw today,” he murmured hoarsely. “I thought I was starting to hallucinate.”
“Yes, it was me.” Vanessa admitted. “I wanted to see you work. I’m sorry if I distracted you.” He stared at her awkwardly for a few seconds. A look of concern colored her face. “You look tired. If you want, we can talk tomorrow.” She looked down, embarrassed. “Except I kinda don’t have anywhere to stay. Every hotel is booked.”
Riley smiled. “That’s becoming a habit with you, isn’t it?” When she didn’t smile back, he sobered. Why was she here? She didn’t run into his arms and wrap her legs around him like he thought she would. And he didn’t want to overwhelm her with his enthusiasm about seeing her. He decided to try to get a read from her to see how to play it. No signs of her intentions were apparent at all, so he decided to play it cool. Certainly she wouldn’t come all this way to tell him to leave her alone. If that was why she was there, he didn’t want it to happen in such a public area. He motioned for her to follow him. “C’mon. I have a bungalow suite. We can talk there privately.”