Her eyes were teary. “It’s not in the script. It’s real. It’s Flip’s fiancée. I recognize her from the wedding announcement and the many Google and Facebook searches I did on her. This must be their honeymoon. Oh my god, and there’s Flip! He saw us! They’re coming this way!”
She looked heartbroken. I couldn’t take it—I’d whisked us both away to escape, and I’d brought her face-to-face with the one thing she most wanted to forget about. It was like one of those ridiculous coincidence scenes in a romantic comedy. Only in the rom-com the writer would have saved the day with some huge romantic gesture. So I thought, What would Nora Ephron have me do? I scooped Natalie up in my arms and carried her into the calm blue ocean. She laughed nervously and wrapped her hands around my neck as I dunked us both up to our waists. She was playacting. I was sure her motivation was to put on a show for Flip, while I ceased acting the minute she wrapped her arms around my neck. I had such strong feelings for this girl. I could see Flip heading toward us, nonplussed by the little scene we were creating. He seemed determined.
Natalie whispered, “Are they still coming our way?”
She actually looked scared. “I got this!” I responded, and kissed her. At first gently on the lips but then passionately and with everything I had. I don’t know if it was from vengeance or passion, but she responded equally, and anyone within view, including Flip and his new wife, got quite a show. Both of us kept going, though probably for different reasons. I kept going because I was enjoying it immensely; I imagined she kept going because she was just plain scared of what would happen when we pulled apart. We continued until the famous—and surprisingly short—Flip Roberts called out to us.
“Natalie? Is that you?” he shouted from the shore, his somewhat attractive wife by his side. Nothing was stopping this guy.
She gave me a shrug as if to say, “We can’t stay in this ocean forever.”
I carried her back out and placed her right by my side in the sand. She straightened herself out and asked, as if she’d been acting all her life, “Oh my, Flip. What are you doing here?”
“I thought that was you.” He stumbled on his words.
“We’re on our honeymoon!” the somewhat attractive wife responded with a sting. And then it happened. We both saw it. She recognized me. She nudged Flip three times and then outright kicked him. Natalie tried to fight the smirk that formed on her lips but finally lost to a full-on smile when the wife asked straight out, “Are you Jeremy Madison?”
I smiled my best movie-star smile and answered, “Not this weekend. This weekend I’m just Natalie Canaras’s boyfriend, so please, please don’t spread it around that you’ve seen us. We came here to escape the press.” Flip looked like he wanted to die.
His wife was pretty, I guess, in an uptight kind of way, but nothing compared to Natalie. There is no way she could have Natalie’s sprit, or sweetness, or soul—not possible. Though I still couldn’t figure out how Natalie had ever been attracted to this guy, I wanted her to be happy, and if sticking it to Flip made her happy, then I would lay it on thick. Natalie had yet to speak, the wife yet to shut up.
“Maybe we can all have dinner together one night,” she said eagerly. I looked to Nat for the answer. She smiled yes but her eyes screamed no. I wrapped my arms around her.
“I’m sorry,” I said, “but we’ll be eating all our meals back at our casita. It’s a short stay and I want her all to myself.” I tickled her a bit. She laughed. Flip died. His bride looked on with envy—not because I was a movie star, I thought, but because what makes a woman feel better than a man saying he wants her all to himself? I added, a bit cruelly to Flip, “You must understand that.” Flip made a noise halfway between a cough and a splutter as he took his wife’s hand purposefully.
“Goodbye—enjoy,” he said, turning and marching away across the sand.
“You too,” Natalie called after them, barely suppressing a giggle.