Chapter 4

  It's 2 AM. And I'm alone and drunk in my bed.

Hell, I said I won't drink because of Leyla, but fuck it, I want to drown myself. I squeeze the only photo I have left of me and her. And cry. I cry over the time I lost with her. And the happiness. She was my light. My escape from all the darkness of my past. We were so happy. Or at least I was. And I'm pretty sure in the beginning she was too.

She's the daughter of a business partner of my father. We grew up together and I've never seen her in any other way. She was my best friend. Until she came back from the exchange students program in her senior year in college. Of course, we kept our connection. We were talking on the phone. Nonstop. And when she came back, she completely swept me off my feet. Vienna has made miracles with Leyla. She has always been beautiful, but now... She was unrecognisable. And she admitted she always has been crushing on me, so... it just happened.

She has just turned twenty-one and I was twenty-two. Young and bold.

We were together for around six years. And our fathers were utterly happy for us. They saw it as another business possibility. Through the marriage, they could've merged their companies. Whiskey and bottles producing together. It was the perfect plan. But it turned out life has other plans. 

On this photo that I'm so fiercely squeezing now, we're in North Carolina. I just had bought a secluded cabin by the coast of Fontana lake and brought Leyla there to celebrate. And that's when she told me she's pregnant. I had my suspicions. She started acting weird and had morning sickness. And when she dropped that bomb, almost two years ago, I remember I felt like the happiest man alive. But she didn't share my happiness.

She was nervous, even sad. I thought it's because of the shock, she had never shared the same vision for the future. She believed she'll be the next Heidi Klum or whatever. And I supported her in this. She had become quite a famous model herself and you can imagine what an ego booster this was for me. I was dating a top model. But back then, in that very moment, all I cared about is the little life growing inside her. Our baby. 

But then she took this happiness away from me. She aborted. Without telling me. Without even asking for my opinion. I know she's not a person to listen to someone else. When she decides something, she's unstoppable. But I never thought she'll go this far. 

A few months passed. She kept playing the game of being pregnant. Building my happiness over a lie. I made plans. Huge plans. I imagined myself playing baseball with my little boy. Or having tea parties with my little princess. I brought our families to Kingsley resort. I wanted them to share the second most happy day of my life. I proposed to her. But she denied it. She said no. And that's when I noticed her belly is not growing. Leyla was not gaining any weight at all. The morning sickness stopped. Her rejection opened my eyes.

And then she went back to work. When I finally confronted her she just told me she did what she did. In the most neutral way ever. Like she just threw the trash out. Like it was something minor. And then I remember my world crumbling apart. I remember the sharp pain in my chest. I remember how my breath stopped. I broke down.

Leyla exposed her reasons but it was all bullshit. As a main reason, she pointed out her career. And now I see where she's coming from. I even think I understand her. It won't be fair of me to stop her from chasing her dreams. But she had to discuss it with me. She had no right to take this away from me without asking me.

But I tried to live with this. I loved her way too much I couldn't imagine my days without her. But it became unbearable. She kept living like before. She was kissing me, touching me. Like before. Telling me she loves me. Like before. But I wasn't believing it anymore. And in the end, we broke up. I couldn't look her in the eyes like before. The betrayal was too painful. Seven years in the trash. 

  And now anger takes over me. Pure fury. I hate myself for letting her get close to me again. Fucking with my mind. I feel dirty, powerless. And I do the only thing I believe will clean me. I pour some alcohol over the photo and set it in flames. I watch myself in the picture, burning down. Like my happiness was burned down. In one quick moment. Fuck it! 

I just stare in what is left of the last piece of memory I had. Just a few ashes. I wish I was able to burn the memories in my head too. Just delete them. Maybe it was a huge mistake. Maybe I should've never had confessed my feelings for Leyla. Maybe if I didn't, now we would've been like before. The best of friends. But we're not. And in the end, I'm left with nothing but a few ashes on my palm and an aching heart. 

I keep repeating our happy moments in my head. And then the bad ones come. It's just impossible to not think about all the things she has done and said. As a friend Leyla was incredible. I don't know what else changed in her after Vienna, I don't know why. All I know is as a lover she was my perfect match. Crazy and willing to experiment with everything. But as a significant other, she was a complete stranger. There was no trace of the supportive friend she was. She knew what happened to my mother. What happened with my family. Yet, she kept calling me weak for not being able to move on. And she had it all in life. Perfect family, perfect looks, perfect job. But I was closing my eyes for that. I believed she'll actually help me move on. By creating the family I've never had. But no. She didn't...

And next thing I know, I'm video calling Abigail.  I know it's the middle of the night and it's odd to call her, but she promised to listen and I feel the need to talk to someone. If I don't, I think I'll go crazy. A few empty signals and I'm about to hang up, but then she picks up!

"James?!" She's quite surprised to see me, I believe. She yawns and rubs her eyes, a real sleeping beauty.

-

"Abigail... I- I did something stupid." A tear rolls down my face and it doesn't stay unnoticed.

"James! Talk to me! What's wrong?!"

"I... I tried to take my own life," I blurt it out, not realising how I make it sound.

No context, no explanation. I expect her to know what I'm talking about. But she's clueless. And scared. I see the fear in her eyes, I hear her shouting my name through the phone. But I don't answer. My vision is blurred by the welling up tears. But one thing I notice. Her sleepy face. I woke her up. Shit.

"Abigail, I- I'm sorry I woke you up. I'll leave you to sleep."

"No! No, no, James! James, listen to me! Take a deep breath and then speak to me. What's going on?!"

"Nothing. I... I just wanted to talk to someone and you said you'll listen so I... No, I'm sorry. Sorry to bother you," I choke on the tears. My mind is a mess. A mix of all the memories with Leyla and my mother suffocate me.

"James! Don't hang up on me! Tell me what's wrong?! Are you hurt?! Where are you?! I'll send an ambulance!"

"No, no. I'm fine. I... I didn't mean now. You asked me what's the reason for the scar on my wrist. And your question, along with other recent happenings triggered some memories and feelings. I... When I was nine my mother died..." I try to take a breath as she told me to do. Hell, even now I feel embarrassed for crying like a kid in front of her.

"James, come on. Speak to me. What happened?"

"She... she was fighting with cancer for years. And one night she just fell asleep and never woke up again. I found her. And I remember the hard denial. I refused to believe she really left me. After all, I was just a kid. I remember I got mad at her. For abandoning me..."

"James, I'm so sorry... I know how does that feel. I--"

"No, no. This is not the worst part. It's what followed her death that made me believe everything will be better if I go away. It's my father. The man you so fiercely defended. He ruined my childhood."

I realise it might come out like I was just an ungrateful little boy, but I don't care. What he did marked me forever.

"He... He pretended I don't exist. Of course, I was never left in a need of something that can be bought. Every wish of mine he fulfilled. The horses? He bought them. New phone? Every month. I had everything that any boy could've wished. But I didn't have one thing. Love. He neglected me. He coped with my mother's death in a weird way. He was obsessed with the idea of finding her perfect replacement. The more I was growing up, the younger his flings were becoming. The things I've witnessed are disgusting, disturbing. No kid wants to see their father in such a light. And the worst part is he blamed me for if I have to quote "horrible life". He said I came too early and was a problem. Because of me, they fell into a loophole. I stopped them from living their young years as they wanted to. He didn't want kids so early. Being barely twenty-four. And the worst is he blamed me for my mother's death. I don't know why. I still don't know. But I've reached a point where I believed he'll be better without me." 

I keep talking and crying. And Abigail keeps listening, not saying a word. Not judging me. Like she promised to do. She only apologises for saying what she said. And I feel her apology. I feel it's honest. I can't believe I confide in a person I barely know. No, I don't know her at all. All I know is she is listening to me. And that's enough for me.

We're on the phone for over an hour now. She listens to all my complaining and doesn't say a word. And this talk calmed me down. The tears stopped, the breathing steadied. All she says after my blabbering is "I understand." And I think she does. I feel she does. It just feels so weird. A person I know for a day understands me better than anyone else. It's ridiculous.

"James, when can I see you again?"

I think I'm blushing at her question. She wants to see me. Sure, she maybe wants to talk about business, but the thought of seeing her pretty face again makes my heart skip a beat.

"I'm flying back to Florida tomorrow morning," I lie. I've never planned such a thing. But I don't want to look like a fool.

"Great. Call me when you land! Now, I'm sorry but it's so late and I'm so tired and tomorrow I'll have so much work..."

"No, please. Stay on the phone with me! "

"But I can barely keep my eyes open..."

"It doesn't matter. Go to sleep, just... stay with me."

"Okay... Um... Good night?"

"Good night," I giggle as she yawns. Her sleepy face is so cute. Like, there's no trace of the harsh boss she is during the days. Now, just wearing nothing but her own skin is such a peaceful view. I don't even know how to explain it. Just staring at her natural beauty is pacifying.

I prop up the phone on the pillow and turn to face it, so I can watch Abigail. And she does the same. It might be weird, I know. Even a little creepy. But I needed exactly this. And a moment later she's quietly asleep.

I try to do the same, but I can't. I close my eyes in an attempt to get some sleep, but I simply can't. It's probably around half an hour since Abigail fell asleep and I just can't find my place. I toss and turn, stare at the ceiling, then close my eyes again. Nothing. I get up to grab a glass of water. Hopefully, I'll fall asleep after that.

I come back and make myself comfortable in the bed. Then I look at the screen and see something that scares me. I grab the phone and look closely. Under the dim moonlight, I see a shadow over Abigail. Not just a shadow. It's the silhouette of a person. It's like someone is leaning over her. I shout her name several times and then she wakes up! 

"Jesus Christ, James! It's almost 5 AM!" She complains, obviously irritated by the lack of sleep.

"Abigail, is there someone with you?"

"Do you think I'll be on the phone with you if I wasn't alone?"

"Then please, get out of there. Or call the security. Please."

"What the heck?! Why?"

"I swear I saw someone leaning over you. I saw a shadow of a person."

"This is ridiculous. No one can get into my apartment. It must've been your imagination."

"But..." I try to protest.

"Listen, James. If there's a safest place on Earth, it's here. I can assure you I'm fully safe."

"If you say so..."

"Now please, get some sleep. When is your flight?"

"We're taking off around 9 AM."

"You still have a couple of hours to take a nap."

"I will try. I couldn't sleep at all," I yawn exhausted.

"See you later, James."

"See you."

Imagination my ass! I know what I saw! But now that Abigail hung up, I have nothing else to do except trying to get an hour or two of sleep.

                          ***

Beep-beep-beep. 

Fucking hell! I throw my phone across the room, obviously annoyed with the alarm I've set for 7:30 AM. 

"Why did I even fall asleep," I grumble, cursing myself for staying up all night while I'm crawling out of bed. I haul to the bathroom to get a quick shower with the hope to wake up a little. My head is spinning and my whole body is numb. I'll never drink again.

Still wrapped up in a towel, I go to the kitchen to make myself a coffee and something to eat. God bless the person who discovered the power of caffeine. And I have zero power to live through this day. I hope the coffee works its thing with waking me up. And in the meantime, the only thing keeping me from ditching everything and going back to bed is the pair of blue oceans I'll see again. And hopefully, see that shiny smile. A smile I can't get out of my head since the other day.

I do a quick training. A few push-ups, some crunches and that will work for today. I stuff some clothes in my travel bag and finally get dressed, then run outside.

                               ***

I hop inside my black SUV and realise I'm still too drunk to drive. Ah well, why do I pay for a driver anyway?

Just one single empty signal and Henry picks up. "Good morning, Mr. Reagan."

"Listen, you need to come to take me from the distillery and drive me to the airport."

"Yes, Mr. Reagan. Be there in five."

And that's exactly how long I'm waiting. Five minutes. I don't know how he does it. I've tested him. He lives on the other side of the city. It's physically impossible to come this fast to the distillery. It's around twenty minutes at max speed. If we accept that all traffic lights are green and there's no traffic. But he does it. It's either he lied where he lives or he can teleport, I don't see any other explanation. But anyway. He does a perfect job and gets paid perfectly so it's a win-win situation. 

Now I'm already riding to the airport and I feel getting more and more excited for today. Maybe the coffee worked its magic after all.

                         ***

"Mr. Reagan? Mr. Reagan!"

"Huh?" I startle, still half asleep, at the sight of two grey eyes staring at me, so close to my face I can feel the breeze of their fluttering eyelashes.

"Good God, for a moment I thought you're dead."

"What's wrong?" I stretch my neck.

"I'm trying to wake you up for ten minutes now!"

"Wait, where are we?"

"We're in Miami, sir."

"Oh, great. Thank you."

"Nothing to thank me for. And please, don't scare me like that again."

"Why? Will you miss me?"

"Because I'll be jobless if you die," Andrea rolls her eyes and I just laugh at her complaining, but this gives me something to think about. I'm grateful for all my workers' services, I must do something about them. Especially in case I suddenly die.

I joyfully bounce out of the plane, feeling a rush of energy in my body. I check my phone and am about to call Abigail, but then I decide I'll surprise her with my presence.

                            ***

"Ugh! Not with this again!" I'm standing in reception, trying to convince the receptionist to tell me where Abigail is. But no. She refuses to tell me.

"Mr. Reagan, Miss Kingsley is in an important meeting."

"Regina, Miss Kingsley is expecting my arrival. Just tell me where she is."

"You can sit in the lobby and wait for her."

"I'll give you fifty bucks if you tell me."

"Mm no. There are rules," she purses her lips and gives me a doubtful look.

"One hundred? Come on, tell me the price."

"I can't just take your money. It's against the rules."

"Why do you whisper now?" I lean closer to Regina, almost lying on top of her desk. 

The girl doesn't say a word. Instead, she pulls out a laminated sheet from under the desk and pushes it in my hands. With huge bold letters, on top of the sheet is written one single word: "Rules". I roll my eyes at it. Is she for real?

I briefly check them. "Don't smoke in your workplace"; "Don't sleep in your workplace"; "No intimate interactions between staff members and guests"; "No money taken from guests apart from reservations and/or tips" and more and more. They're getting more ridiculous with every following rule. I laugh at this and give it back to the receptionist.

"It's not funny."

"Okay, come on, just call her and ask where she is."

"Yeah, you do that. I won't risk my job for you." 

I keep laughing. This girl is something else. She's not even trying, she's just this funny.

"But you'll tell me where she is for some cash?"

"Mmmm..." she only purses her lips again, making a weird and funny face. I can't with her.

"Okay, what if I book a room and leave you a tip?"

"Awesome!" She claps with hands. "The apartment again?"

"Sure, whatever."

She taps some keys on the keyboard and looks at me from under her glasses.

"For how many nights?"

"Eh, I don't know. I'll pay for one night now. If I stay for more, I'll let you know," I shrug my shoulders and sigh, I feel like I was bamboozled.

"Okay." Another few taps on the keyboard. "It'll be five hundred dollars."

"Wait, wait. It was four hundred the other day. How... Oooh, I see, I see." I pass her my credit card and after a moment or two, we're done.

"Thank you for putting up in Kingsley resort. Enjoy your stay!"

"Wait, wait! You're supposed to tell me where is Abigail."

"Oh, she's in the restaurant," Regina shrugs.

"Seriously?! You could've just told me that! And I was going for lunch in the restaurant anyway!" I scoff. I'm facepalming myself so hard right now.

"You asked and I answered. I never said she's outside the property's grounds," Regina giggles, then she mockingly winks at me! She tricked me! 

"You know I can report to your boss. She won't be too happy to hear this."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"But you just..!! Ugh, forget it." 

"Enjoy your staaay!" She shouts after me as I'm already walking to the elevator. Such a colourful staff.

                            ***

  The elevator stops on the fifth floor and as I walk down the long corridor, I pass by two housekeepers. Young, probably younger than me. Both in the same uniforms, in knee-length black skirts, white shirts and shoes, style ballerina flats. They're both eye-catching. One, a raven-haired cutie whispers something to her brunette coworker and they both giggle! I feel their eyes on my back and I can't help but grin, I love when I'm the one after who people turn their heads.

As I unlock the door and step a foot through it I hear one of them sighing in disappointment and the other shouting as if she won the lottery.

With half a smirk I face them and once they notice I'm looking at them, they bow their heads down in embarrassment.

"Can I help you, ladies?" I tease them.

"Um, um..." The brunette stutters.

"We were betting on who will clean your room, sir," the other girl speaks. It looks like she's the more freed one.

"And? Who won?"

"Duh, me," the black-haired one victoriously answers with hands on her hips.

I can't get why she's happy though. Does she secretly hope to see me naked or something?

"You're both invited to my room after you finish work," I wink at them and get inside under the sounds of their giggling.

I can't help but listen to their little chat. It's too funny. I don't fully close the door and I hear them.

"Sandra, no!" The shy one begs. 

"Come on, it might be fun. He might even tip us well."

"You bet I will," I think to myself, a smug smile dancing on my face.

"You don't even know who he is!" The girl keeps protesting.

I decide to leave them gossiping and go to take a quick shower.

                       ***

Knock knock.

Ugh, who is it now? I'm here for barely ten minutes and I'm already disturbed. I wrap in a towel and peep out the door only to be surprised by the brunette housekeeper.

"Yes?"

"Um... since I lost the bet... um, Sandra made me come and ask for your name and number..." she mumbles while watching anywhere but at me.

"James, James Reagan," I present myself, James Bond style.

"J... James Reagan?"

"Mhm."

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry for disturbing you, Mr Reagan! Excuse us..." she swirls on her feet and is about to leave.

"Wait, wait! What's wrong?"

"Um, no... nothing. Forget about it. Sorry," she answers with her back still turned at me.

"Goddammit!" I protest, I hoped for some fun time tonight.

"You're Miss Kingsley's special guest. I'm... I'm sorry for disturbing you!"

And then she runs back to her coworker. Weird. I'm Abigail's special guest? I laugh at it and go back to what I was about to do. To get a shower.

Fifteen minutes later I'm all done and dressed. Time to go see Miss Kingsley. I hop in my shoes and check myself in the mirror next to the entrance door, then I wink to myself. That silly song starts playing in my head, "I'm sexy and I know it". I sing and do the dance steps, then laugh to myself. Okay, no more procrastination, let's go meet Abigail.

     

I walk down the hall to the elevator and deja vu strikes me. I see the doors closing, I run and shout to hold the elevator and almost knock off the people as I jump inside. Thankfully, it is not that Vanessa girl because I would've lost my shit if it was her again. Instead, it's a lovely elderly couple, speaking in French I believe. 

They have pressed the button for the restaurant, great. I don't know how I would've explained to them where I am going otherwise. I look at my phone in the two minutes of awkward silence, then I hear the "ping" sound and the doors open.

The restaurant itself is one level below the rooftop cafe. White is the prevalent colour, combined with some warm nude shades. Low neutral music is playing in the background and quiet chattering is adding to the atmosphere. Several waiters and waitresses roam around the tables, as it's getting busier. I look around myself but I cannot see Abigail.

"Hey, where's your boss?" I lean on the wooden bar and ask the guy behind it.

"I, I... Why? What's wrong? Please, do not complain to her, we'll..." The guy, going by the name Alexander from what's written on his name tag, drops the glass he was so carefully polishing as I mentioned Abigail and I hurry to interrupt him before he faints.

"I'm supposed to meet with her."

"Oh... Heh. Um, she's out on the balcony..." he scratches the back of his head and looks down to the mess he just did.

"Okay, thank you," I fixate the automated doors and brisk up to there.

I find Abigail in a deep talk with an older woman, probably in her fifties. I decide to not interrupt them so instead, I walk to the railing and lean on the steel, just watching the vast. It is incredible what a view you can get from the top of this hotel. 

In the distance, I see what looks like an island of some kind. I guess my next purchase will be a yacht. I stare in the endless pool of blue crystal waters for maybe five or ten minutes. I feel so small considering the view in front of me. It's bizarre. Then I finally face back and see the woman is leaving and now Abigail is alone on the table, checking her phone with a concerned look on her face.

"How come you have the best view of the ocean?"

She startles from my question and after a moment she notices me, then jumps from her seat and walks to me.

"James! Why didn't you call me?!"

"Seriously? No 'hello', no 'I'm so happy to see you'?" I tease her.

"Hello, Mr Reagan! I'm so so happy to see you!" Abigail jokes by quoting me and rolling her eyes, then she laughs. God, this smile...

"I'm happy to see you too," I say and hug her. I have no idea why I do it, I didn't mean to invade her privacy. But there's something so soothing in her smile, yet her laugh is so... alluring. She's like a siren, calling me to her. For a moment she's awkward, even frozen, but then she hugs me back. I guess our midnight talk somehow cut the distance between us.

Finally, I let her off my embrace and stutter some apology for squishing her in my arms but she reassures me it's fine. But either way, I don't regret doing it. It just feels right.

"Soo, what are you up to, Miss Kingsley?"

"I was about to have lunch, do you want to join me?"

"Do I have to move to another table or..?" I decide to tease her a little and she pretends to be pissed.

"You'll have to if you keep talking to me like this."

I know she's joking, but she doesn't laugh. She doesn't even smile. She just bites me back while walking back to the table and oh holy shit. My eyes wander down her body. From the bouncy chestnut hairs to the thin waist and then stop on the peachy butt. She's wearing a short tight black dress and I just nervously gulp at the sight of this. Some pictures including that ass and my hands start playing in my head and I try to shake them off before she notices my excitement.

I walk to the table and sit in the chair in front of her. We spend a minute just awkwardly staring at each other, unable to think of a topic to start a dialogue. Well I know a topic we can talk about, but I prefer not to. For now, I'll leave my naughty thoughts for myself.

"Sooo... James, I believe we started in the wrong way. So if you still want to work together, we can start again and fresh."

"Really?"

"Mhm," she nods.

Abigail breaks the silence and what a better way to stop me from thinking about her sexy butt than talking about work.

"Well if then... Hello there, fine lady. I'm James Reagan. The current owner of Reagan's whiskey house."

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Reagan. I'm Abigail Kingsley. Founder and current owner of Kingsley resort."

We both laugh. It seems like we both feel comfortable in each other's company.

The atmosphere is different from the first time. The tension is gone and her eyes are more friendly now. She's relaxed, with both elbows leaned on the wooden table and head rested in her hands, watching me with a pure smile on the face. We just talk about everything and nothing, joking, laughing, even teasing each other while having a nice lunch. And it just feels right. 

Too right...