Page 12 of Date and Switch

This cruise was taking us south, around Cape Horn and up toward Los Angeles on the first leg, instead of trans-continentally. I kicked myself for being so emotionally upended that I hadn’t thought these kinds of things through. Europe was the second to last leg of this cruise. Meeting with Gilroy should have come in the second quarter of next year to discuss the expansion—but it couldn’t wait. We needed to begin talks to figure out how we’d divide and conquer all of the tasks necessary for this new venture. I just wish I’d be coming to the meeting better equipped.

Me: That’s fine. In the interim, compile as much research on the towns and experiences from the travel sites, Yelp or whatever is comparable in Europe. I won’t have a chance to see them in person prior to the meeting.

Esther joined Ellis around the time I graduated college. For twenty years she’d been my right hand and there were few people I trusted as implicitly as her. The same went for Penn. Esther was more than our assistant. She was like a big sister.

Esther: Consider it done. Please actually use some of this time to relax. I see you have a long stretch of gorgeous islands before arriving in South America just before Christmas. I’m so envious. I’m even following your Instagram travel page just so I can live vicariously through you.

Bless her heart.

eight

Date & Switch Day 4

Ahoy ye mateys! Today we find ourselves at sea once again. We’ve left Cozumel and are headed toward a Caribbean stretch of islands: Aruba, Curacao, and Bonaire. Land of rum and pirate treasure. We’ve spent a lot of time exploring the ship and just hanging out and relaxing in general. Well, I’ve been relaxing and hanging out poolside, slathering on Coppertone by the pound. By the time I get back home I’ll probably permanently smell like coconut. Mr. Buried Beneath a Pile of Work has only peeked his head out from his hidey hole a few times to join me poolside. He promised that once we hit the islands, he will one hundred percent detach from his work duties. Since neither of us were really interested in hitting up Cozumel, he worked, I played. And by played, I mean, I lost forty dollars at the casino (Jesus did that go fast!), have eaten way too many slices of pizza and drank too many Mai Tais pool side. Like legit, I saw how much was already charged to my room card and good god this little piece of plastic is the devil’s work. They make it way too easy to just say “Of course! Charge it to my room!” sign it and forget it! If I’m not careful, I’ll have spent my whole paycheck before even arriving at our first touristy destination. We don’t have excursions, or anything planned at our first three stops. Mainly we plan to walk around, catch the sights on foot, and see what there is to pique our interest.

Don’t forget to check our Instagram for all of the pictures!

Till next time!

Sera

* * *

“Oh my goodness! I think my eyes are deceiving me. Is my travel partner actually taking a day to enjoy himself?”

He waved and jogged casually toward where I stood in line for the tender boat. Even when he was supposed to be dressed casually, he looked like he could step off the pages of some East Coast college’s recruitment catalog. Ocean blue shorts with little alligators on them, white polo shirt with green piping, and a pair of the most delicious looking calves, golden brown despite him barely seeing the light of the sun while we’d be on vacation.

“The week has taken more of my free time than I hoped it would.” He pushed his sunglasses onto his head so I could look him straight in the eyes. Even when his lips were downturned, and his forehead creased with consternation he managed to look charming and handsome. “I’d hoped to have time between planning for this important meeting in Los Angeles to actually enjoy myself.”

“You have nearly six more months of days just like this one. Buuut,” I singsonged with a smile, “I’m really glad you were able to escape your work prison and come play with me though.”

He hadn’t bothered to shave. The stubble along his cheek was a sexy combination of salt and pepper, mixed with a chestnut color close to the color on his head. He looked so cute in his preppy let’s have a clambake at the Cape outfit. His pouty mouth, the way the sea breeze played with his hair, I swear my body acted on autopilot. I did it without even thinking.

I kissed him.

Now granted, it was brief. It was barely a kiss. Probably couldn’t even be considered a peck. The brief passing of lips if ranked on the Scoville scale of kisses, wouldn’t even come close to a green pepper it was so mild. But I broke our amicable fifteen feet of space agreement. It was practically written in stone, after all. Rules about personal boundaries were where we’d existed for the last two weeks.

I felt the clenching in my gut, fully expecting a vitriolic rebuff. I hadn’t yet forgotten how he reacted when I’d straightened his sweater while waiting for the plane. That was nothing compared to actually forcing my face into his and forging our mouths together. The rebuff never came. He actually didn’t say anything. The little tugboat jolted as we pushed from our ship, and the captain ordered everyone to remain seated. Out of the corner of my eye I saw his fingertips on his lips. As if by touch he could tell his fingers that yes, his travel companion had in fact forced herself on him. When we arrived at the dock, Bryce stood, extended his hand toward me, and didn’t flinch when I took it.

At various points in the morning as we walked through Kralendijk he’d reach for my hand again, and we’d meander the cobblestone streets in quiet comfort. I couldn’t admit, even to myself, how much I liked it. It was more than liking it though. It was recognizing that small act of intimacy meant we’d crossed some other threshold. Maybe we were tap dancing towards friends and not just random strangers sharing a room together.

“Have you ever been scuba diving?” Bryce asked, interrupting my whirring thoughts on the deeper and more complex emotions tied to hand holding.

“Scuba? Like where they tie a combustible tank of canned air to your back, put weights in the pockets of your wetsuit, drop you into shark infested waters, and tell you ‘if you start choking whatever you do don’t rocket to the surface or you’ll kill yourself, better to suffocate to death in the serene beauty of the ocean floor!’”

“You know, you’ve really missed your calling.” He tilted his head, his lips fighting to withhold a smile. “With a sales pitch like that I can’t believe the tourists aren’t lined up signing these release of liability waivers with fervor!”

“Har har aren’t you the comedian today.”

“Today?” He held his hand against his chest in mock offense, “I’m quite certain I’m funny all the time. Between me and my brother, I’m the one that had a string of Most Likely To’s in the yearbook—including Most Likely to Make You Laugh.”

“Wow…”

“What, wow?”

“Did you bring your letterman jacket on the cruise too Mr. I’m still living my high school glory days.”

He mimed a pretend shot to the heart, dramatically falling back against the painted brick building we’d been walking alongside.

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