Is that an elevator?
On one of the white leather couches sat a beautiful African American woman with long black hair. She closed her book and walked over to me.
“Good morning, Miss Carter. I’m his personal assistant, Joan. It’s nice to meet you,” she extended her hand to me.
How does she know my name?
“Nice to meet you too, Joan.”
“Hey Joan,” Matt locked the door. “You can tell Craig to set sail now. Is breakfast set up?”
She nodded her head and walked away. Matt took my hand again and led me down the spiral staircase.
The room below was more impressive than the one above. Freshly coated cherry cabinets, stainless steel appliances, and—he even owned his own bar, complete with seating for ten and a liquor collection that covered an entire wall.
I took a seat by a porthole and pinched myself. I was sure I would wake up at any moment.
“Welcome to my kitchen at sea,” he opened a cabinet. “Do you eat bagels?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Joan orders the best bagels in the world.”
“You mean she cooks the best bagels in the world?”
“Oh, god no. That’s something Joan doesn’t do. What about strawberries and orange slices?”
“I like those too.”
“And to drink? Cranberry juice?” he placed a plate of warm bagels and fruit in front of me.
“That’d be great.”
All of a sudden, the ship began to move. I closed my eyes and smiled. I suddenly remembered when Sean told me he had a yacht, when I jumped and down upon boarding it, when I spent the whole day pouting because he wouldn’t let it off the dock.
“You should try the white truffle cream cheese,” Matt sat down across from me. “It’s amazing.”
I looked out the porthole but couldn’t make out much in the darkness. I couldn’t believe I was on a boat with Matt Sterling. I wondered why he was being so nice to me, why he wanted to spend time with me.
“You’ve been on a yacht before?” he interrupted my thoughts.
“Yes.”
“But you’ve never been on a yacht that actually sailed?”
“My ex never let his yacht off the dock. He wasn’t into exploring the ocean. He just wanted to own property on it.”
Did I say that out loud?
“Were you married to him?”
“Engaged… He left me for someone else.”
“Hey,” he reached over and took one of my strawberries. “You’re on vacation, remember? Relax. Try not to talk about anything personal.”
“Are you mocking me?”
“Are you amused?”
I couldn’t help but smile. “I better not die out there. My sister knows you were the last person I was with.”
“Well, if you don’t enjoy the polar bearing, we could try the skinny dipping thing,” he teased. “You did bring it up.”
“Please!” I laughed. “How often do you use your yacht?”
“At least once every month. I promised myself I would learn how to sail it one day but I haven’t had the time. I read stage plays on it most of the time.”
“Stage plays? For what?”
“For Broadway.”
“You were really good on Broadway.”
Why did I say that?
“How would you know?”
“The New York Appeal always gets tickets to the pre-opening Broadway shows. Those are the only events I attend. You were in Les Miserable my sophomore year.”
“Too bad I didn’t meet you back then. I really miss Broadway.”
I couldn’t think of anything else to say. My brain was busy processing his “too bad I didn’t meet you back then” comment.
“Mr. Sterling,” Joan entered the room. “Here are the life jackets. Craig is stopping the boat now.”
“Thanks Joan,” Matt stood up and motioned for me to follow him. “Let’s head on out.”
The wind was whooshing wildly on the top deck. We fastened our life jackets—he double checked mine—and walked over to the side of the ship. He picked me up and gently placed me on the opposite side of the railing. He pulled himself over with ease and looked out over the water.
“This water is perfect for polar bearing. It’s pretty calm don’t you think? That’s exactly what a first timer needs.”
I nodded my head and clung to the railing. I couldn’t see the water, but I could hear the waves sloshing against the boat.
“Are you scared?”
YES!
“No…a little.”
“Don’t be,” he reached for my hand. “We can jump together.”
I squeezed his hand and tried to ignore my racing heartbeat.
“I’m going to say, one, two, jump. Okay? You have to jump when I say jump. I don’t want to pull you in unprepared. Can you do that?”
I knew I must’ve looked like a four year old girl in that moment. All I could do was nod.
“One…”
Please don’t let me die…Please don’t let me die…
“Two…”
Don’t say jump! Don’t say jump!
“Jump!”