The plane was already boarding when we made out way down, and I felt nauseous at having to say goodbye to him.
We kissed goodbye and Jack held me tight. I cursed myself silently for not being able to fight back the tears about to escape when Jack looked at me. He searched my face and took a deep breath in.
“I still have some questions left.” I couldn’t respond. My stomach was in my throat and I was afraid that if I dared to speak, the tears I was somehow holding back would spill out uncontrollably.
I looked up at him in response and said nothing. “Do you want us to be over?” A tear escaped and traveled slowly down my face. Jack wiped my tear away gently with his fingers, caressing my cheek as he waited for my response.
“No.” I shook my head as I spoke.
The flight attendant announced final boarding and Sienna yelled at me to move my ass. Jack kissed me again once more and when I turned back as I went down the boarding hall, he was still watching me.
Chapter 11
“Can I get you something to drink?” Startled out of my daydream by the perky flight attendant, it took me a minute to snap out of my thoughts. I was in such a fog that I couldn’t be sure if I had just woken, and the last week was a dream, or if it was really an unforgettable memory.
“I’ll have a vodka cranberry and she’ll have a merlot. You’ll have to excuse her, she’s spent the last week f**king her brains out with a gorgeous stranger and can’t seem to snap out of it.” Sienna smiled to the appalled flight attendant, a pleasant looking mid forties woman who was wearing way too many pins on her bulging uniform. From the look on her face, I was sure the flight attendant wasn’t used to a raunchy mouth like Sienna in first class. I looked around and saw most of the other passengers looked well bred and refined, more like they were dressed for an uppity tennis match than a twelve hour flight from Honolulu to New York.
The flight attendant brought us our drinks and scurried away with a hesitant smile. It was obvious that she was trying to avoid hearing any more about our vacation, which Sienna would have surely divulged, if given the opportunity.
Sienna enjoyed shocking uptight people with her crass mouth, watching them squirm was a sport for her.
Sienna raised her glass to me in a toast. “To the best damn honeymoon, I’ve ever been on.” I laughed and shook my head as we clinked glasses and both tipped our heads back to drink.
“Seriously Syd, are you okay? I know the week meant more to you than just a fling.”
I took a deep breath and gathered my thoughts. “Maybe I just got caught up in the fantasy of it all. A beautiful island, a gorgeous man, it was easy to think it was all real.” I downed the rest of my drink. “I mean, I don’t even know his last name.” Sienna took my hand and held it in hers. “It’s probably for the best Syd. You need to figure out what you want to do before getting too involved with another guy anyway.” I knew she was right, but it didn’t make it hurt any less.
The uptight flight attendant came by to ask if we wanted another drink and her eyes went straight to our joined hands. Sienna, being Sienna, raised our joined hands to her mouth and kissed the back of my hand while looking at the flight attendant. “What, you never saw a couple in love? I told you we were on our way back from our honeymoon?” As was common when Sienna got the urge, the woman walked away speechless.
Chapter 12
A week after our return home from Hawaii I was no more settled than I was the morning I walked away from Jack in the airport. I just couldn’t get him out of my head.
I replayed the week over and over in my mind and couldn’t help but think that Jack was feeling the same thing for me as I was for him. What if he was my one true love and I let him slip away because of some ridiculous notion that I couldn’t find the love of my life just because it started out as a rebound fling? I alternated hourly about how I felt. There were mornings that I held the phone in my hand, seriously considering calling the hotel in Hawaii and begging them to get in touch with Jack and give him my number. But then there were afternoons where I came to the realization that I had spent the week with a playboy who probably had weeks like we shared on a regular basis.
My honeymoon was over and I went back to work, but I knew that I wasn’t singing with the gusto that I should have been. I was going through the motions and giving mediocre performances that would more than likely have me destined for etern-all damnation as a lounge singer. I needed to refocus myself into my singing and find a way to use it as an outlet for my heartbreak.
As usual, I arrived at the hotel two hours before the club opened to set up and practice. I was in the middle of my second practice song when the hotel general manager stopped in and asked me to come to his office for a quick meeting. My gut wrenched and I was sure that I was going to be fired for my lackluster performances.
Lyle Coughlin, the hotel manager, was a thirty something year old yuppie wanna be, who might have been cute, if he wasn’t so damn full of himself. He wore expensive suits and shiny shoes and treated most of the employees like they were his ser-vants. I had heard from one of the barmaids that I was friends with that he only had the job because he was related to the Heston family through marriage. I knocked at his door and he yelled for me to enter. “Come in Sydney, have a seat.” He motioned to one of the leather chairs on the opposite side of his desk.
He came around the desk and lifted one leg to sit on the edge of the corner of the desk close to me, folding his hands into his lap. I was sure that before I arrived at his office, Lyle thoroughly debated about the exact position that he should sit while we spoke, in order for him to look the most au-thoritative he could during our talk. It was just the kind of pompous ass he was. “So Sydney, how do you like it here at the Heston?”
Why couldn’t the ass**le just fire me and get it over with instead of dragging it out? I plastered on my best fake smile and spoke. “Oh, I love it here. The clientele is very posh and I enjoy performing in the Overture Club.” I didn’t really think the clientele was posh; in fact, I hated the freaking word posh. But I knew it would be what the arrogant ass**le wanted to hear, so I had to try to salvage my job.
“Good, good. I’m glad to hear it. Well, you must be doing something right. Mr. Heston has informed me that he will be coming to your show tonight. He mentioned that he has heard many good things about you and wanted to see for himself.” Lyle stood, leaning against the desk with his ankles crossed and arms folded across his chest, posturing himself as a parent would when they were giving a child a reward for good behavior. I wouldn’t have been surprised if the ass**le patted me on the head.