No Kissing Allowed

Chapter 6: The Salty Sea

Chapter 6: The Salty Sea

The wind whipped Cora's hair across her face as the 60-foot catamaran cut across the waves. She lifted her sunglasses to restrain the wild strands as best she could. It didn't do much to improve her discomfort with the way the midday sun flared against the blue-green water. The boat crested a wave, and a blast of salty spray made her eyes water.

"Great, Cora! Look back over your shoulder at me?"

Mel seemed unfazed by the elements as she guided Cora's movements for the camera. Of course, unlike Cora, her producer was allowed to pull back her long black hair into a sensible ponytail any time she wanted. Not to mention the beat-up ball cap Mel wore to protect her copper-colored skin from the sun's harsh rays.

"No, go back and try it again," Mel directed her. "With your eyes open this time."

Mel cracked her gum to punctuate her sentence, and a tremor crept down Cora's spine. She hated that sound beyond all reason. She prayed Mel wouldn't make a habit of it. The producer had been assigned to Cora and Jamie as one of their dedicated handlers for the next four weeks. So far, since the plane had landed at Cozumel International Airport, Cora had spent more time with Mel and Cameron, the camera-operator, than with her co-star.

So much for being stranded all alone with him in paradise.

Cora turned again, and this time the wind cooperated. Her hair draped around her neck like a silken scarf.

"That's it. Beautiful!"

Cora spied the top of Jamie's head on the far side of the boat. He was mostly blocked from view by the flapping mainsail. The two of them had been separated since they boarded this sea taxi to their final destination. The beach where they'd be staying was too remote to reach by road. Once the catamaran dropped them off, they'd truly be cut off from everyone other than the TV crew and each other.

It's an adventure, Cora reminded herself, ignoring the knot in her stomach. It was this or slink back home to the slush-covered front steps of her brownstone apartment building in New York, with all her new vacation outfits unworn and all her leading-lady energy unspent.

It had nothing to do with Jamie. Nothing to do with the fluttery sensation in her throat this morning, when he put his arm around her and talked to her of butterflies and fate. Nothing whatsoever to do with the pleading look in his eyes the moment after, when he let her past the suave exterior for a moment.

Those eyes had dripped with confidence the night before, but in that moment on the bus she only saw a little boy, lost. It had brought to mind vague memories, long buried, of being separated from her class during a kindergarten field trip. The panic of not knowing where to turn or who to trust.

Mel cracked her gum again, all smiles. The producer couldn't have been more than five feet tall, but she had the kind of bubbly enthusiasm that made her presence larger than her size. "You're doing awesome, babes. Ready for your interview?"

Cora sighed. "Another one?"

"You can tie back your hair for this so it isn't too distracting. Turn around." Mel produced a hair clip, and Cora stooped to allow the shorter woman to arrange her hair in a messy twist. All the while, despite the roar of the wind and the hum of the boat's engine, Cora swore she could hear every swish and squish of the gum. She grit her teeth.

She couldn't take it. She would withstand whatever torment the crew had in store for her next, but not this. Not gum.

And why should she? She was the star of this show, was she not? Cora forced her jaw to relax and stood up straight. What did she care what these TV people thought of her? Mel needed her good opinion far more than she needed Mel's.