We sat on the deck of Mr. York's yacht, heading back to shore after dinner and discussing how Drew's public image could benefit from the services offered by Cox Media, as it pertained to his marketing. The entire night, Drew had done for me what I had done for him at his client dinner, the bragging about me, talking me up, showing Mr. York how well we fit together. At one point, Mr. York put his arm around his wife and Drew mimicked him, pulling me against his side. His body was firm, rigid, as if he kept his physique chiseled beneath those three-piece suits he wore. I found my hand resting across his abs a number of times, feeling their strength through the flimsy material of his button down.
"So tell me how you two met? You were in Ohio for quite a while, weren't you Cici?" Mr. York had a happy grin on his face.
"Well, yes. I went to college there, and got my first internship right after graduation with the marketing department there." Drew readjusted his position and the muscles beneath his shirt tingled my fingertips. I had to get away from him before I regretted letting him touch me like this.
"Funny, story," Drew said, "her brother and I were best friends in college. I would spend a lot of time at his house studying. Cici was very young. We started a habit of picking on her, practical jokes and all. But as we all got older, I knew there was something special about her. It was her senior prom. She got stood up by her date. By that time I was nearing my thirtieth birthday. I looked more like a parent than a student, but she needed a date. That night changed our lives." Drew turned to wink at me.
I hated that night. That memory was seared into my mind. I really asked him to take me so I didn't end up alone, and at the last minute he tried to prank me. I went to prom stag and that's the night I started dating Kyle, who later destroyed me by cheating on me.
I had a hard time faking a smile, especially when Drew winked at me. I pulled away and stood. "Where is the bathroom?" The wine made me sway a bit, or perhaps it was the tilt of the boat on the water as it moved.
"Oh, yes. Through the main cabin there. The third door on the right. It's a hallway. You go past a few doors. One of them is a bathroom. Duck in there. Don't mistake it for the lounge room, and watch you don't accidently fall overboard." Mrs. York's joke wasn't funny but I laughed anyway.
"Just call me Goldie!" My reference to the 90s movie brought a huge round of laughter that lingered in the air as I walked away. At this point, I wished I could fall overboard. I sat there feeling every single breath Drew took for almost forty minutes. Every time I tried to squirm away he tightened his hold on me. It was like he took pleasure in torturing me, only he didn't even realize how much torture it really was. My body responded to him in ways I hated.
I moved through the main cabin toward the doors, but half of what Mrs. York had told me had gone in one ear and out the other. The fancy décor on this yacht probably cost more than twice my salary, and I felt like I was about to soil it with vomit or urine, whichever escaped my body first. I tried a few doors and found one that led onto the catwalk along the side of the yacht. I slammed that door shut.
"Sheesh! Maybe I will end up overboard," I murmured. I pulled another door open and a dark hallway appeared to me. Between my urgency to find the toilet, the alcohol catching up with me, and the rocking of the boat on the waves, I had a hard time stumbling along in the darkness. All I could think about was how irritating it was that the entire night, the only thing my boss wanted to do was talk to Drew.
Drew was supposed to be the eye candy draped over my arm, not the showstopper who stole the spotlight. In my head I reminded myself that I would ride his wave and be better off for it, but it still frustrated me. The boat rocked and tossed me into the wall. I braced myself and remained on my feet but I had to stand there a moment to get my bearings. I didn't remember if I had passed a door or not, but now the urge to pee was worse.
