Nick gazed out over the water and felt guilty. He had lied to Abby. He hadn’t been thinking what she thought, but he also hadn’t been thinking about cottages. He’d been thinking, “If you’ve got money, why don’t you spend some of it on yourself?” Why didn’t she get a better hairstyle and some clothes that fit her? Why didn’t she put on a little makeup and stand up straight? Why did she deliberately make herself look bad?
Sure, she was no movie star. Even on her best day, she’d be no match for Ronni on her worst, but…
Ronni.
The pain was swift and all-encompassing. Ronni. Beautiful Ronni. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the rock. Tears leaked from the corners of his eyes and ran down the side of his face. Amazing, he thought bitterly, the body’s capacity to create an endless supply of tears. It didn’t matter how many you shed. There were always more.
Ronni.
How could he have been so wrong? How had he misjudged the situation so badly? They were living together, for God’s sake! They had said ‘I love you’ to each other a thousand times. And she wasn’t averse to getting engaged…or even married, as it turned out.
So what should he do now? The first and most obvious possibility was to go home, back to L.A. He could get all his stuff together for next week in Atlanta. But his stuff was together. He’d planned on spending the whole week here and all he’d have to do was drop Ronni in L.A., pick up his suitcase and head back to the airport. What would he do at home all week? The house would seem huge and empty. What if she came back to get her stuff and he was there? He didn’t want to be there. He didn’t want to face her. He didn’t want to ever see her again, in fact.
So maybe he should fly straight to Atlanta. He could hang with Brian for awhile before the whole group thing got going. But that would involve a lot of explaining. He had told them that the earliest he could get there would be Saturday. If he flew in early… No, nobody knew what he was planning to do here, and he didn’t want anyone to know. Even Mary only had suspicions. She knew it was a romantic week away and she had probably guessed what he was up to, but he hadn’t told her anything for sure. He had bought the ring on a credit card, but he was always buying jewelry, so she wouldn’t know from that.
The sound of the waves lapping gently against the shore soothed his soul and made his eyelids heavy. The sun was warm on his face and before he was able to make a decision about his future, he fell asleep.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Abby went to her room and changed into her tennis clothes. She went over to the courts, which were on the other side of the main driveway. The pro, Dennis, was there and apologized for his injury. He said he’d try and find her a partner, but Abby declined.
“I’ll just use the machine,” she said. She didn’t feel like being sociable today, but she did feel like smacking the hell out of something.
Dennis set up the machine and she spent an hour swinging her racquet. Each ball had a face. Philip. Her father. Her mother. All the men in the past who had treated her badly. All the women in her past who had been mean. Nick. After she mentally told herself, this one is for you, Nick, and then missed the ball twice in succession, she decided that she wasn’t as angry with him as she thought, and she didn’t bother with him any more.
Dennis watched from the sidelines and was impressed. After the first half hour, he began to move the machine around, challenging her to run for some shots. He hoped his leg was better the next day. He would really enjoy a match with her.
At the end of an hour, Abby showed no signs of stopping. Dennis turned off the machine and shook his head at her. “That’s enough for today; you don’t want to injure yourself.” You need to go and sit in the sauna or the steam room. Get yourself a massage.”
Abby would have continued, but there was no way to do that gracefully after the pro’s kind words of dismissal. And besides, she’d got most of her anger and frustration out. She changed into a swimsuit and did some lengths in the indoor pool. Then she got dressed and went to the dining room for lunch.
She wondered if she would see Nick. She decided to ignore him if she did, but he wasn’t there.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Nick woke up with a start. He was stiff. And his face hurt. He looked at his watch. It was after one o’clock. He’d been asleep for three hours. Uh, oh! This wasn’t good. He stretched the muscles in his face. Shit! He hadn’t put on any sunscreen. He could feel the burn. And he’d missed lunch.
He wasn’t really hungry, but he was thirsty. He got off the rocks and stretched. He was stiff and sore. The rocks were a lot less comfortable after three hours. He wandered up to the terrace and sat at the table where he and Abby had had breakfast. The same waiter appeared and took his order for lemonade. Did he want anything to eat with that? He wasn’t that hungry but he ordered a sandwich, just to have something to occupy his hands. When the waiter asked him if he wanted a salad or fries with it, he said ‘fries’.
He ate the sandwich and all the fries and drank the lemonade. He looked around and thought that it would have been a wonderful week there with Ronni. It was a great place. He had planned on her having a spa day. He would have had it with her...nothing wrong with a massage and a stint in the hot tub. There was a little town nearby with some good shopping, apparently. And the hotel had different events and shows in the evening.
“Sir?”
Nick looked up at the waiter. He was hovering by the table, a look of concern in his eyes.
“Yeah?”
“Um…sir…you have a bit of a sunburn, I think…”
“Yeah,” said Nick. “I fell asleep…on the beach.”
“I think you might want to get some stuff for it. You’re pretty much glowing right now…and you know how a sunburn gets after it gets dark.”
Nick put a hand to his face. It was hot. “Yeah…um…okay…do you know where I could get some…I don’t know…aloe vera or something.”
“You could try the spa. They have pretty much everything there.”
“Okay. Thanks, man,” said Nick, slipping another ten into the waiter’s hand.
“No problem, Sir. And thank you. You know you’re not supposed…”
Nick waved the waiter’s protest away. “Take it, Charles,” he said, reading the name on the brass badge.
Charles slipped the money into his pocket. Nick Carter had just become his favorite customer. He was going to make sure he got very good service this week.
“Are you going to be with us long?” he asked.
“The rest of the week…until Friday,” said Nick, making up his mind in that instant. What the hell? It would save a lot of hassle re-arranging flights and shit like that. “Yeah, ‘til Friday. Okay, Charles, where’s this spa?”
Nick followed Charles’ directions and descended into the bowels of the building. Boy, they sure had this hidden away! Maybe the women didn’t want anyone to see them with goop all over their face or whatever. He paused. Maybe men weren’t even allowed here.
He opened the door carefully and peeked in. “Excuse me,” he said in a quiet voice.
A woman behind a tall desk looked up. She gave him a friendly smile. “Yes, Sir, may I help you?”
“Is it okay if I come in?” he said. He stared at the floor, not wanting to inadvertently catch sight of something he shouldn’t.
“Certainly, Sir. Come on in. It’s okay. Men are allowed.”
“Phew! Okay! Hi! I…uh…I was wondering if you had anything…for…like a sunburn.” Her brass nametag said ‘Gail’.
“Yes, Sir, I think we can help you with that. We also have some nice sunscreen products.”
“I have my own,” said Nick. “I just have to remember to put it on.”
“Yes, Sir,” smiled Gail. “It doesn’t do much good in the bottle, does it? Sally, would you come and help Mr. Carter.”
Nick had not given her his name. He said nothing. Sally did, however. It was a cross between a moan and a whimper, an exhalation of breath with sound attached. Nick had heard the sound before.
“Hi, Sally,” he said, giving her a wide smile, even though it hurt his cheeks. “Can you help me repair my face?”
Sally gave him a look that told him exactly what she would like to do to his face, but she contented herself with a nod and a squeak. She turned to a glass display case which held a large variety of bottles and tubes. She picked one out.
“Come over here, please, Mr. Carter,” she said, finding her voice at last.
Another toothy grin. “Call me Nick.”
Another squeak from Sally. Nick followed her into another room. She had him sit in a chair that looked like it belonged in a dentist’s office. She had him lean his head back and then she tucked a paper bib around his neck. She squeezed some of the lotion onto her hand and then used the fingertips of her other hand to scoop it up and apply it gently to his face.
“I hope I don’t hurt you,” she said.
“No, that feels good,” said Nick. It was very cooling, very refreshing. He was going to have a hell of a night, he knew, if it hurt this bad in the afternoon.
Sally finished her task reluctantly, but she couldn’t do it forever, and if she didn’t take her hands off him right now, she was either going to faint or attack him. “There you go, Sir…I mean, Nick.” She screwed the top back onto the tube and handed it to him. “You’ll want to re-apply this every couple of hours. It will take the sting out.”
”It’s gonna hurt, isn’t it?” he said.
Sally nodded. “Yeah, you really did it to yourself.”
“Okay, thanks.” Nick sat up and swung his legs over the side of the chair. He reached into his pocket for a tip.
“Oh no, I couldn’t,” she said, refusing the money.
“I know it’s not really allowed,” he said, “but take it anyway.”
“No…I couldn’t take it…not from you,” she said. “I…I…I’m a fan,” she finished lamely because her common sense kicked in before she said what she was really thinking which was ‘I’m in love with you’.
“Would you like an autograph instead?” Nick felt stupid, but he figured that’s what she wanted and it didn’t look like she’d ask.
“Oh, yes please,” Sally said, relief in her voice. She would never have asked. That could get her fired. She rummaged through a drawer in a cabinet and came up with a pen and a pad of paper with the ubiquitous Brookhaven logo on the top.
Nick scrawled ‘To Sally with the magic fingers. Thanks. Nick Carter.’ This elicited another squeak from Sally.
“Hug?” said Nick, and she fell into his arms. He hugged her and set her gently back on her feet.
“Thanks, Sally,” he said, and he meant it. She had made him feel like himself again, not like some overweight, red-faced loser, but like himself…like Nick Carter.
