Upside down, p.2
Upside Down, page 2
“Good. I need my best man to get his ass on this boat.”
“On my way.”
I slid the phone back into my pocket after my driver greeted me with a smile. “Mr. Stanton. I’m Victor. Can I take your bag?”
“Yes, thank you.” As he placed my luggage in the trunk, I tossed my coat on the leather seat and slid into the deliciously cool interior with a sigh.
My brother, Sam, and his fiancée, Lydia, had decided to take our sister Rebecca’s offer and have it on the luxury yacht she; her husband, Marco; and their business partner, Ricky, owned.
They’d started their business two years ago after Marco had been fired from his cruise director job for becoming romantically involved with one of his employees—aka my sister, Rebecca.
It had taken guts for them to throw caution to the wind and follow their hearts. Instead of kowtowing to the executives at Sunset Cruises, they’d both quit and taken their best friend with them to begin a company of their own called RMR, Inc… their initials. The ship’s name was Bella Viaggi, or BV as they often called it. According to my Italian brother-in-law, it meant beautiful travels, his one and only goal with my sister.
My envy for the relationship that those two had ran deep. Rebecca was so sure of their love she’d left New Jersey with a man she’d known for a few months, married him, moved to Florida, and started a whole new life. Their son, Antonio, had come shortly after, and my sister had never been happier.
“When you know you know,” she’d offered as an explanation.
I couldn’t relate.
BV filled a void in the cruising industry, catering not only to those who could afford spending a week on a yacht while being catered to hand and foot, but also to those who wanted to experience that kind of lifestyle firsthand.
And for the next week, Bella Viaggi would host yet another epic love story among my siblings. It’d been a long time coming for Sam and Lydia. After having started off as childhood sweethearts, they’d been torn apart by her family’s move across the country. A horrible lie told by a mutual friend who loved Sam had kept them apart until Lydia showed up in New York about a year ago.
She’d applied for the job my brother had worked his ass off trying to nab. Soon after, lies told by this mutual friend, Ginny—lies that had played a huge role in their demise—had been revealed. Their unresolved feelings toward each other, along with my meddling, had finally reunited them after way too many years apart.
And in two days they were finally making it official.
The ten-minute drive from the airport to the ship seemed to take forever. Of course, my nerves were entirely to blame. I hoped the trip wouldn’t become all about my breakup, taking any focus away from Sam and Lydia.
The wedding guests weren’t due to arrive until tomorrow, and I looked forward to a night of calm before things got crazy and the interrogations began.
Really, it was just my mother I dreaded telling. Fuck, I could already envision the look on her face once I shared my news. She adored Riana, often stating how she was a perfect match for me and felt this one could be the one. But it was what it was, and the sooner I got it out the sooner I could lecture them to please move on so I could.
“We’ve arrived,” Victor said, stopping before the ramp leading to Bella Viaggi. “I’ll grab your bag, sir. It’ll be delivered directly to your cabin. Is there anything you need to retrieve beforehand?”
“No, I’m good. Thank you.” Remembering the winter coat lying beside me, I quickly added, “Can you take this as well?”
He accepted the parka with a nod and disappeared out of his side of the car. From my window, I took a moment to admire the magnificence that was Bella Viaggi, a sleek vessel that slept a few dozen, with every modern convenience one could need.
Once out of the car, I spotted Sam and Marco on the main deck, chatting by the bow. Those two had sure come a long way. When Rebecca had first introduced her former boss become boyfriend to the family, while also dropping the bomb they were engaged, Sam hadn’t taken to Marco very well.
I released a short, shrill whistle, catching their attention.
“Get up here,” Sam responded with a wave of his hand. As told, I embarked and went to where they still stood waiting for me. “I missed you, man.” He pulled me into a boisterous bro hug.
Sam and I could be twins. Same light-brown hair, same hazel eyes, same six-foot-two height, and same physique. But personality wise, we couldn’t be more different. I was the romantic, the nice one… he was not. In all fairness, this man was worlds apart from the person he used to be. During the six or so years of his split from Lydia, Sam Stanton had been a prick. There was no way to sugarcoat it.
As I shook hands with Marco, Sam realized I was alone. “Where’s Ree?” The frown that spread over my face explained it all. “Oh crap. What happened?”
“She wanted a confirmation that we have a future together, and I wasn’t ready for that.”
Sam narrowed his eyes. “You mean you weren’t ready for that with her… because we all know you’re more than ready for marriage.”
My gaze flipped from Sam to Marco and back. “Well, yeah. I guess.”
“When it happens, you’ll know,” Marco admitted in his heavy Italian accent. “You can’t force it.”
“Exactly,” I responded with a wave of my hand. “Something was missing. I can’t explain it.” I then stared at Sam and pointed a finger his way. “You can relate. All that time you dated Ginny—”
“She wasn’t Lydia,” Sam quickly interrupted. “Plus, Ginny was a lying bitch who ruined my life. My past with Lydia always haunted me. It’s not the same thing.”
“Maybe, but when you were with Ginny, before you knew she was the real reason Lydia left you, you hated Lydia for leaving you. If there was a perfect opportunity for you to find love again and move on, being with Ginny would’ve been it.”
“Before I knew she was a lying bitch, I loved Ginny, but I wasn’t in love with her.”
“Exactly,” I repeated. “I love Ree, but I’m not in love with her.” Sam’s silence meant he couldn’t argue with me. “Anyway, it wasn’t dramatic in any way. We parted friends, and it’s as simple as that.”
“Okay, I get it,” Sam said with a nod. “If you need to talk, I’m here.”
“Me too,” Marco added.
“I know… and thanks. Right now, I just want to relax on this beauty with an ice-cold beer.” Wanting to change the subject, I asked, “Where are the divas?”
“Lydia and Rebecca went into town to shop,” Marco said. “And Ricky is somewhere around here.”
Sam chuckled at Marco’s dig. Not only was Ricky Rebecca and Marco’s business partner, but he was my sister’s gay best friend. The man was also a walking Ken doll who lacked a filter, was cocky as hell, and irked the shit out of me.
The last time I saw Ricky had been at Thanksgiving. Rebecca had invited him to our parents’ home since his mother had been traveling. Having no other family, my bighearted sister had felt bad for him. I hadn’t known him all that well, but the way he’d probed when learning Riana wasn’t coming to dinner, along with a few snide comments throughout the night, had me wanting to tell him to fuck off.
Rebecca had later laughed her ass off, explaining that it was Ricky’s way of showing interest and he’d meant nothing by it. I was as easygoing as they came but had found no humor in his little performance.
What had freaked me out a bit was how I’d thought of that ass all night long after he’d left. And it wasn’t things he’d said that had run through my mind; it was his expressions, the way he raked a hand through his thick hair, the lift of his lips when he smirked… which was often.
“Speak of the devil,” Marco said while glancing over my shoulder.
“Yeah, yeah. I heard every word you said.” Ricky threw him a bored expression. “We all know you’re the biggest diva of us all.” He then focused on me with that damn wry smirk. “Hello, Cooper.” Hearing my full name annoyed me. No one called me that except for my parents.
“Hey,” I said with a benign smile.
“Where’s your girlfriend?” His question seemed innocent enough, but the sarcastic lift of one brow was a contradiction.
“We broke up.”
“Oh no.” While his eyes narrowed, a dramatic lilt to his deep tone of voice revealed sarcasm. “I’m so sorry to hear that.”
Right… sure you are. “Yeah, well, such is life,” I responded just as disingenuously.
“You’re quite the catch, Cooper. I’m sure you’ll have another doe-eyed beauty on your arm in no time.” His gaze held mine for a beat before he winked. He took arrogance to a new level, and it baffled me that he and my sister were best friends.
Ignoring him, I clapped a firm hand on Sam’s shoulder. “I’m going to go change and chill out in a deck chair. You can find me there.”
Sam nodded. “I’ll join you in a bit.”
“You’re in cabin four,” Marco interjected. “If you need anything, just dial seven on any phone.”
“Perfect, thank you.”
As I walked away, Ricky called out, “Welcome aboard, Cooper.”
Without turning around, I lifted a hand and responded, “Thanks.”
It would be hard to leave the cool tranquility of my cabin. The smooth sheets and ridiculously fluffy pillows called to me. But I had no doubt if I lay down for even a few minutes, I’d be out for the count.
Ignoring the temptation, I bargained with myself to have a drink with Sam on deck and retire early once dinner was over. Knowing he planned an intimate evening with Lydia before the wedding festivities began, and that Rebecca and Marco were staying at their place in Fort Lauderdale, meant I had the night to myself. And based on the typed, laminated schedule I found on the dresser, there would be little time to myself during this trip.
I quickly changed into a casual pair of shorts and a clean T-shirt, having sweated through my original one. Afterward, I unpacked a few of my things, mainly the linen slacks and white button-down shirt I’d been instructed to wear for the wedding and headed out.
Minutes later, I was on the upper deck sitting on a comfortable lounge facing the open sea. Not seeing any of the ship’s staff, I relaxed and closed my eyes while waiting on Sam. Except for the seagulls squawking and the waves slapping against the hull, it was surprisingly silent… or maybe it was because I’d been so lost in thought.
I looked forward to this trip with my family. I was excited to see my youngest brother finally taking Lydia as his wife. Yet I dreaded having to smile and pretend I didn’t feel like a complete failure. It wasn’t the first time I’d felt as such. Whenever a relationship ended, no matter how short or long, I couldn’t shake that stigma.
What was wrong with me?
And it had to be me, because the women I’d met and dated over the years were always spectacular. It was true… Riana couldn’t have been more perfect for me—a lover of literature, an avid philanthropist, sexy both inside and out.
I had tried so hard to fall in love with her. My thoughts drifted to the first time we had sex. It’d been after a romantic evening of dinner and dancing. We’d ended up at her condo and quickly engaged in our usual passionate foreplay.
Until then, whenever we reached that heated precipice, she would shyly stop things from progressing. I respected her wanting to wait, understanding getting to know me first was important to her.
But that night, without voicing it, we both knew our time had come.
The stage had been perfectly set for a flame to spark between us. The sex was sweet and slow. Afterward, we spent the night wrapped in each other’s arms. She made me breakfast the next morning before we had shower sex.
That night, I could see the flip of a switch in the way she began to look at me. The transformation had been subtle, but just one month in and I knew Riana had begun to develop feelings.
Knowing that warmed me inside, but it also created a sick feeling of guilt, because I hadn’t felt the same yet. I argued with myself it was still so new, I liked being with her, and those feelings would eventually come.
With each month that passed, I continued to enjoy our time together. I went through the motions of romancing her, hoping upon hope one of those days I’d wake up in love. For months, I yearned for the feelings I knew she had already experienced toward me… but they never came.
And with every week that went by, I’d felt more like a shit.
“Cooper.”
I jumped when a deep voice sliced through my pity session. “Can I get you a… cocktail?” There Ricky stood beside my chair, looking like a suntan lotion ad in his white polo shirt and khaki shorts. “Bar is now open for you, and I’m at your disposal.”
“Thanks. I’ll take a beer.”
He dipped at the waist and grinned. “Coming right up.”
A minute later, he was back with an ice-cold bottle of imported beer. “Modelo, right?”
“Yeah… thank you,” I said, annoyed that he remembered what I preferred. When he placed it on the side table, along with a bowl of mixed nuts, I returned my attention to the royal-blue horizon.
Without invite, he sat sideways on the lounge beside mine as the small round tray between his hands twirled in my peripheral. “Can I ask you a question?” I wanted to say no but instead shrugged. “Are you afraid of what people will think?”
My head twisted his way. “Think about what?”
“Your sexuality.”
What. The. Serious. Fuck?
“What the hell are you talking about?” I asked through clenched teeth. The fucking nerve of this asshole.
He raised both hands in defense. “Calm down.”
“I am calm. You don’t know anything about me.”
“I know you’re a great guy who would do anything for anyone… and I know your sister would personally hang the moon and stars for your happiness.”
“And that gives you the right to psychoanalyze me?” Before he could respond, I leaned into the thick cushion and closed my eyes. “Ricky, I had a rough week and just want to relax.” I felt the need to dismiss him as a tsunami of annoyance swirled behind my chest wall. But the longer he sat there, the harder it was to pretend he didn’t piss me the fuck off.
“Look,” he finally said after what felt like an eternity had passed, “I know firsthand.”
“Know what firsthand?” I groaned, no longer bothering to pretend nonchalance as I glared at him.
“That denial can be a powerful enabler. If you need to talk, I’m here… just between us.” Ricky leaned in a bit, giving me a good whiff of his cologne and pegging his pale-blue eyes to mine. “That gaydar thing… it’s real.”
With that, he flashed a perfect smile and left me seething over his audacity.
Angry as fuck, I snatched the beer off the table and took a long swig.
I wasn’t gay.
Sure, I’d experimented in college, as most kids looking for something had. A drunken make-out session with one of my frat brothers, dared by his girlfriend. A few more stolen moments with a friend of a friend during a party. Each time, I’d felt no different than any other sexual encounter I’d had with a woman. It had been nothing more than a physical act while under the influence. It hadn’t been earth-shattering. And it most definitely hadn’t been an “aha” revelation that I was gay.
“Hey,” Sam said before plopping down on the lounge Ricky had vacated with his own beer in hand. He stared at me and frowned. “You okay?”
“Yep.” The rest of the beer slid down my throat, and I said, “I can’t believe you’re finally marrying Lydia.”
“Me too. It’s been quite a tumultuous journey.”
“But worth it.” I tilted my now-empty bottle toward him and waited for him to tap it with his. “To one hundred years of happiness for you guys.”
“And to you finding what we have someday very soon,” he added with a second tap.
“Eh, not sure that will happen. Maybe I should become a man-whore like you used to be. Sounds fun.”
“Or a comedian… asshat.” I watched his amused profile as he stared at the ocean. “You’re just looking too hard. They say when you stop searching, it suddenly appears.”
“Who’s they?” I teased. “Are you now part of some romance cult I’m not aware of?” He laughed out loud as I added, “Let’s not forget it wasn’t long ago when you swore that you’d never get married or even fall in love again.”
“Yeah, well… I was a cynical dumbass. If it can happen for me, it most definitely can happen for you, Coop.”
“If not, then I’ll just be the fun uncle to all the minions that you guys populate the earth with,” I joked, while deep in my core failing to see the humor.
Chapter Three
Cooper
“Coop!”
Sam and I swung our gazes to see our sister soaring across the deck as though she had taken flight. “Oh my God. I missed you so much!” she shrieked as I stood to greet her, and through an oomph and a chuckle, I caught her midair.
“Me too, Becks,” I said, rocking her from side to side. With each sway, her hold tightened around my neck. “But Becks?”
“Yeah?”
“You’re choking me.”
A sweet giggle followed as she released me just a smidge. “Oh, sorry.”
“I didn’t get that reception,” Sam griped.
I lowered my sister until she had footing on the highly polished teakwood. She twisted her head and snapped, “You shouldn’t have been so mean to me growing up.”
“Touché,” he countered without argument.
Rebecca and I always had a very special connection. It was true: being born a year apart had Sam and Becks butting heads for most of their childhood. And because our two older siblings were in their own worlds, that naturally made me the mediator between them. But I was also Becks’s protector, confidant, and, until Ricky had come along, best friend.
She had been so busy lately we rarely talked for more than a few minutes a day. I got that being a wife and mother, all while running a luxury yacht, kept her life hectic, but I selfishly missed our connection.
