Finn
*
On Friday morning, I was up early. The flight to the island wasn't until later at noon, but at 5am, I couldn't bring myself to go back to sleep. I wondered if Amanda was up too, perhaps entangling in a bundle of nerves about the trip. I wouldn't blame her if she was. She'd been putting up a headstrong front since I asked her if she okay with honoring Genevieve's request.
I let her know two days ago that we would be flying on my jet; me, her and Parker. A full range of security and handymen would be at the Young island, so I didn't have to bother about going with any of my men. I tossed and turned for half an hour before giving up on my sleep ambition.
I got off the bed, turned a lamp on and pulled a drawer open. I rummaged through the poorly lit compartment until I found a small sketchpad and pencil. The book only contained a few sketches, and I was about to fill it up with more of the only muse that featured in it. I tucked myself into a sofa and turned on the lamp next to it. I flipped to a fresh page and brought the pen to the surface.
It almost scared me how easy it came to me when it was her. I should probably question it, dig deeper, but I was scared I would ruin the flow if I did. If Amanda was going to be the one inspiration that got me out me out of my creative funk, then so be it. I couldn't think of anyone whom I would prefer it to be. Her face was like an art frame hung in my mind, one I could see with terrifying clarity. She clung to my subconscious, filling my dreams and waking hours.
I'm a doomed man, I thought as I made crosshatch marks on the side of her supple cheeks. A doomed man who was the least alarmed about his situation. I was powerless against her siren call, and hoped I wouldn't end up hurt in the end. I had already been hurt before, and in a sick way, I would relive it a thousand times if it meant she would be spared from danger.
I was done sketching her face in under five minutes. I let out a hard exhale and snapped the sketchbook shut. I got up and walked to the spot where my packed bags were, undid the zip to my satchel and tossed it in. If I was lucky, she'd fall asleep on the flight and I would have a chance to draw her again then. If I was lucky. The flight to the Young island which was situated off the islands of Turks and Caicos was a fairly short three hour ride.
I ran my hands down my face, suppressed a yawn, and undressed. The water in the shower was hot and soothing as it flowed down my hair to my feet. I stayed there longer than I usually did, for no concrete reason. It was a stalling act. Every action I made felt slower, more intentional as I lived them. There was a sinking feeling in my stomach, and my whole being felt lethargic. Pinpointing the cause was tough.
There were many plausible reasons why I was feeling this way.
I would have to process the reality of Nik's loss tomorrow while I watched him being lowered into the cold, unfeeling earth. No matter how hard I tried, my chest felt like it housed a lead weight. My entire family would be there too, and that would be their first time setting eyes on me since my birthday dinner, a long time ago. I didn't know if I was ready to engage with any of them, let alone bear their feelings towards me.
And then there was Amanda, whom I had to convince myself would be okay during her stay on the island. There was no impending threat- the guests at the island would be under thirty in number, all of which would family, friends and associates who were so important that they had access to Nicholas Young, even in death.
After I got out of the shower, I took something to help me sleep and informed Parker. He would have to come into my apartment to wake me if I wasn't up on time. I didn't fancy taking meds for anything, but I felt antsy and my overthinking was through the roof, so I made an exception.
I laid down, pulled the covers over my body until it reached my neck, and closed my eyes. I wished when I opened them, I'd already be on the island. Or better still, back in New York when it was all over.
*
Amanda came out of her apartment with a small pink suitcase and a small shoulder bag she held on to tightly. Maybe it was her nerves. I felt a huge urge to comfort her, so I moved past my still drowsy state and sidled next to her.
"Hey. Minus the purpose of the gathering, it's a really nice island."
She squinted in thought but didn't make eye contact. "I am so dumb. I don't even know where the island is, I never asked."
"You're not dumb," I started with, feeling like she had to hear it. "And it's somewhere near the islands of Turks and Caicos."
"How far exactly is it?"
"Not too far. You don't have to worry, it will be half the time it took us to get to Paris."
I spoke before I thought. In that moment, I wished there was a three second grace period for people to reclaim words they'd said, and it would be like it never left their mouths at all. I shouldn't have said that. It brought a memory up, but it wasn't the type that would be accepted in good spirit. I didn't want anything that would stir up her emotions and ruin it for the entire duration of the flight.
I held my breath. She could chose to bail out on the spot right now, and I wouldn't even hold it against her.
"That's a relief. I don't like being on planes for too long."
I nodded while our bags were carried down, but was stuck on what she said. I couldn't recall that fact about her. Was it something I missed or had she recently acquired the dislike? I felt a nudge to the latter and it made me wonder why.
I got into the back seat with her while Parker occupied the passenger seat. With my mind preoccupied with plans of the company and the funeral during the past week, I'd been passively relating with him. We weren't always chatty, but it unsettled me. I made a mental note to be more conscious of my interactions with him. He was a good person and a good employee, and I felt it was important to surround myself with people like him. Maybe even forge a friendship.
Another car rode ahead of us until we got to the airport. As we boarded the jet, I got hit by deja vu and a nostalgic high. It made my head feel light and my chest tighten. I snuck a glance at Amanda as we got settled into our seats. She looked unfazed. Calm, collected. I desperately wished she could go on one of her neurotic rants that would serve as white noise- to help maintain my sanity. I needed them right now more than ever.
I sat directly opposite her and leaned into the window.
"Are you alright?" Her voice came and I looked at her. Her eyes looked less vacant now, clouded over with concern. I liked that she didn't hide it. It made my heart swell. Now I wanted to be next to her, and maybe if I was lucky she would hold me and run her hand through my hair while she whispered calmly into my ear.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
"Yeah, why do you ask?"
She shrugged. "I don't know, but you look tired." Then she gave a small chuckle. "Honestly, I get it. It must be tiring thinking about your takeover and the funeral within the same time frame."
She got two out of three correct. The third reason was sat right opposite me, playing my little therapist, and she didn't even know it. I wouldn't mind if she really was, though. I would give all I had to have her sit with me every week, every day, every hour, infiltrating my personal space. Nothing was even personal with her in the equation.
"You're right. The next month is going to be very hectic for me. The handover is three weeks away and I'm a little nervous."
"I understand how you feel, the anxiety. But I'm going to remind you however times necessary that you've got this. You've dedicated your whole life to building this, and you've played a huge role to get the company where it is now. Being in charge is something you've done before and exceptionally well too, so I believe without a doubt that you'll recreate that magic again. No matter how many times you'll be required to."
Christ. She was so precious. I wished I could tell her that, and the amount of power she had over me, because the relief her words brought me was staggering. Would she think I was out of her mind if I made her say it all again on recording? The quality of my life would be up by a thousand percent if I listened to it every single day.
I think I was staring at her without saying anything for too long because she averted her eyes awkwardly.
"If it's really bad, I've got Xanax. They help me with flights."
"Do you take them often?" I asked, recalling the time I spotted them on her dresser.
"Not really. I haven't taken them in the last few weeks."
"Are you dependent on them?"
"I don't think so."
An air hostess came around and instructed us to fasten our seat belts. We did as instructed, and I focused my attention on Amanda again, because I didn't want to ruin the conversation flow we had going.
"You shouldn't be. Dependent, I mean. It's very convenient, but it's far from healthy to take them so often.
"It's the only thing that works."
"That you know of maybe. We'll find something else. How about anytime you feel the need to use it, give me a call instead."
She looked like she was holding back a smile. "What's that gonna do?"
"We'll see then. Deal?"
"Deal."
The jet was in the air a few minutes later, and I watched her pull out a book. I pretended to be busy on my iPad, but had my sketchpad out, pencil hovering above it. Across the isle, Parker was on his laptop, with earbuds plugged in. All the times we flew, he always had them in. I wondered what his personal life was like, and made another mental note to ask him about it. I wouldn't go too deep though, only taking what he was comfortable telling. Was his love life as doomed as mine, or did he have someone who wanted him as much as he wanted them?
My attention went back to Amanda. Her eyes were glued to her pages. One hand came up to her chest, felt around, and dipped into her black crew neck shirt. She brought out the necklace that had been hidden all this while, and I was stuck for a moment, staring at the pendant. Deep down, I didn't mind that she still kept it on. If anything, it was a small consolation.
I set my things aside and tried to get some sleep instead. I grabbed a neck pillow from the empty seat next to me and slid it on. With my eyes shut, I tried to quiet my head so I could catch up on some sleep I lost this morning.
It worked, because when I awoke, Amanda had put her book away and I looked out the window to see the electric blue of the Atlantic ocean. I spotted the island, a tiny stretch surrounded by nothing but coral reefs. We would have to land in the airport at the island of Providenciales, the one closest to the Young's, then take a speedboat to the island. Usually we took a helicopter because it was faster and more convenient, but we learned yesterday that they wouldn't be available for a few days.
We received a message to remain fastened while landing commenced, and Amanda turned to me.
"We're landing where?"
"The island of Providencialis. Then we're taking a speedboat to the island. You don't have a thing against boats, do you?"
"I wouldn't know. I haven't been on one. Except that time in Paris, and that was over a river, not the actual Atlantic ocean."
She sounded nervous to me. I held in a smile. "There's nothing to be worried about. It's about forty-five minutes, an hour tops."
"An hour on a speedboat?" Her eyes nearly fell out of their sockets.
I couldn't hold my laugh in any longer. "I promise, it will okay. And if you're feeling out of your depths, you can hold my hand if it helps."
She scoffed and rolled her eyes, but there was humor somewhere in her expression. "Right."
We landed at the airport and were transported to the marina situated along the coastline. The boat's driver led us down the boardwalk to the speedboat and our bag were lugged on board. Parker got on first, but Amanda remained rooted in place, eyes wearily eyeing the small vessel.
I hopped into the boat, made sure I was secured in place with both feet steady and reached my hand out for her. She looked at me with those greyish blue eyes, then at my hand, and grabbed it with little hesitation. I held on to hers firmly and gently pulled her on. Her feet landed firmly on the floor of the boat, with her body now close to mine. She was eyeing her feet, like she was still trying to find relief, and when she looked up, I couldn't think anymore.
It was right in the middle of the afternoon when the sun shone brightest, and in it she caught all of the light, turning into something unreal. Her eyes were near transparent now, startling, but magnetic still. The tropical weather was a great deviation from the claustrophobic one of Manhattan, and the clear, warm breeze picked my hair and hers.
Like she could feel the tension building, she attempted to take a step back but forgot she was right next to the edge and nearly fell off if I wasn't so quick to steady her. My hands were greedy things. Needy too, because they found her waists. Just as quick, they left and I moved out of the way so she could get seated on the boat.
She stepped down, and sat on a spot closer to Parker. Parker had dark shades on, but his head was in my direction and I knew he'd been watching us since. I averted his hidden stare and sat too. One man came down the boardwalk holding life vests which he passed to each of us on the boat. We strapped on our lap belts, and after safety protocols were run through, the boat started for the island.
It was fast. The wind whipped at my face and hair. I checked to make sure Amanda was okay by my side. Her dark hair billowed behind her, and her eyes were reduced to slits. My gaze went back to the direction of our destination, as the island came into view. I felt Amanda's hand reach for mine on the seat and hold on. She did so gently, like she didn't want to offend me by holding on too desperately. I made it easier for her and held the entirety of hers in my bigger ones, and gave a small, encouraging squeeze. The boat was fast as hell, and I hoped she wouldn't get motion sickness.
I looked at her again, but she was still faced forward. I almost missed the tiny smile on her mouth. Pleased and satisfied. It made me a happy man, and I decided to always do what I could to make her feel this way.
*
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