Uh Oh!
by Roger Arsht
Annie opened her eyes, and out of habit reached for her cell phone on the nightstand. She couldn’t believe she was still in bed at 10:30. She hadn’t slept late in years. She did, however, know why. At least from what she remembered. They had finished a bottle of champagne and started on a second. Now it all seemed hazy. She did notice that whoever had put her in bed seemed to know her preferences. The windows in her stateroom were open and the temperature was still chilly from the night air. The duvet and sheets were as soft as she had ever experienced. She regretted having to leave the cocoon she had built around her body. She rolled to her right where she found a vase of flowers with a note attached that told her that breakfast would be served in the dining room whenever she was ready. Her luscious bathrobe had been laid across the bottom of the bed along with a pair of cotton shorts and matching top. Annie’s head fell back on her pillow. She needed to get her bearings and reflect on how she had gotten here. She also needed to remember what might or might not have happened in and out of the hot tub.
Once she was showered and dressed, Annie made her way to the upper deck. Still cool, she draped the bathrobe over her shoulders, which allowed her wet hair to fall against the collar while it dried naturally. She found Bertie working on his laptop in the dining salon. The table was covered with fresh fruit, waffles, scrambled eggs, smoked salmon, bagels, and assorted pastries. Bertie quickly closed his laptop, rose, and pulled back her chair. “What do you think?” he said, pointing to the spread.
“It’s impressive. What I’d really like is a cup of coffee.”
“That you’ll have to get it yourself.” Bertie led her to a hallway between the dining area and the galley to a sleek, modern machine that could barely be called a coffee maker. It was completely digital with a dozen plastic hoppers that fed the machine with milk, almond milk, cocoa powder, and varieties of coffee beans from all over the world. Bertie handed her a saucer and cup. “Press the buttons. It will dispense whatever you want.”
Annie returned to the table sipping her coffee with a complete look of pleasure on her face. “This is an exquisite cup of coffee.”
“That machine is my favorite part of Secrets Kept. It’s essential for writing. The coffee clears and refreshes my mind.”
“It doesn’t hurt that you can take your coffee on deck and watch the waves and the dolphins.”
“No, it doesn’t. Let’s go topside. Can I fix you a plate? We can eat on deck. It’s a beautiful morning.”
“No, thank you. Coffee will suffice.”
“By now you must have some questions for me.”
Annie gently took Bertie’s hand and led him to the stern of the ship where they could watch the yacht’s wake. In the light of day, Annie could see that Bertie appeared more fragile than he did at the restaurant or in the limited lighting around the spa. They leaned against the ship’s polished rails and admired the blue water and the soft breeze.
“Why are you doing all this?” Annie asked. “You didn’t have to ask me for a descriptive letter that told you all about me. I’m not applying for a job. You don’t have to put on this full-court press. It’s lovely, but dinner and a movie would have been fine.”
“I like to remind people that life isn’t just frustration, death, loss, professional jealousy, family strife…you know the list. I want my guests to come aboard and refresh themselves. I want them to escape their ordinary lives.”
“Yes, I know those frustrations intimately,” Annie said with sadness in her voice. “But I can’t help thinking that this environment is more about how you feel than how I feel.”
“You’re very perceptive.” Bertie said quietly.
The two stood looking out at the Chesapeake Bay with their coffee cups in hand. The water stretched out before them for miles. Annie could see how this view and the lapping of the waves could soothe a person’s stress and tension. It did little for her. She was still nervous and confused by what had happened since they left the restaurant.
“I woke up this morning in bed with no clothes on. Did we…?”
“No,” Bertie answered, quickly. Then he started laughing.
“What’s so funny?”
“Your situation posed a challenging problem for Captain Ed and me. We wrapped you in your bathrobe and carried you to your room and slid you under the covers. Then I reached under the sheets and removed your bathrobe and your wet swimsuit as delicately as I could. It was the best we could do while protecting your privacy. We’ve never faced this dilemma.”
“Thank you for taking care of me. I guess I drank too much. There’s part of me that thinks, maybe hopes, I’m still in my twenties.” Annie hesitated. “How many women have you hosted?” she asked directly.
“It’s a fair question? I can’t answer that.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
“I know you’re not going to like my answer, but I don’t think it matters anymore. I’m interested in finding out more about you. I don’t want to bring anyone else aboard.”
Annie either missed Bertie’s inference or her compliment receptors were sufficiently blocked from years of men lying to her that she was unable to process what he said. “I didn’t ask for the women’s names.” Annie took a sip of her coffee before continuing. “And I don’t like that you think you can make decisions for me. I think I understand what you are trying to do with this secrets kept thing. I don’t understand what it does for you. You don’t come across as a player or a creeper. This come aboard and discover something about yourself doesn’t ring true.”
Bertie looked down at the deck. “I love my life. I love my work. I love entertaining. I love connecting with women. I couldn’t always say that.”
“But…”
“I like to connect on my terms and on my timeframe. I like my privacy. There are times when I don’t want company. This works for me. I’m sorry that the situation is so dictatorial.”
“It’s selfish and shallow. Don’t you ever wish you had the security of being in a real relationship?”
“I’ve been in relationships. Some good, some not so good. I like it this way. No one is ever required to spend time with me, and, if they do, it’s their choice how they spend their time. I don’t pressure anyone. I expect that my guests to know what pleases them.” Bertie turned away from Annie. “I don’t want any strings, commitments, or emotional entanglements, except when I am hosting a guest.”
“Then you are a player.”
“That’s insulting and not true. We didn’t have sex. No one coerced you to do anything. You have had complete agency except for when we tucked you into bed. That situation troubled me. We did the best we could.”
“This whole scenario would make better sense if I was paying you like a gigolo. I want you to take me back. I want to leave. I’m not comfortable with this situation.”
“Why?”
“Does it matter? Do I have to give you a reason?”
“No, it doesn’t.” Bertie walked to a phone and spoke for a moment. Within seconds the boat turned and accelerated.
“How long will it take?”
“About two hours. I will have Captain Ed update you regularly. If you need me, I will be in my study. I have manuscripts to read and edit.” Bertie’s normal friendly demeanor had disappeared. “You are welcome to use any facility on the ship, stay in your stateroom, watch television or movies in the theatre, or sunbathe on deck. You can take the laptop in your stateroom anywhere on the ship. Or you can sleep. Please pick up any of the phones, and Captain Ed will bring you anything you wish to eat or drink. You know how to use the coffee machine.” With those words, Bertie turned away and started to walk to the main salon.
“I don’t want this to end this way,” Annie said so she could stop his progress.
Bertie turned back toward her and held her eyes. “Yes, you do.”
“How can you say that?”
“Your distrust is unwarranted. The atmosphere is completely relaxing. The food is special. Your accommodations are plush, clean, and inviting. No one pressured you to do anything. You have expressed your discontent. You are free to leave. The only obstacle is that we can’t magically bring Secrets Kept into port. It takes time.”
“You seem disappointed. This must have happened before. I can’t be the only woman who asked to return to port.”
“I told you. What has happened in the past doesn’t matter. You were going to be the last.”
This time Bertie’s words registered. Bertie, however, had walked away before Annie could ask him to explain what he meant. She was alone on the stern with only her thoughts for company. The situation made no sense to her. Annie could feel the questions racing through her mind. Why didn’t Bertie make a move on her last night? Not wearing a top in the hot tub told him that she was willing to play his game. Why didn’t he try to convince her to stay longer? Isn’t that what a guy is supposed to do?
Annie refilled her coffee cup and retreated to her stateroom where she changed back into her dress and high heels. An hour later, she picked up the phone and asked if she could have a sandwich. Ed suggested a BLT and then asked her if she wanted it on sourdough, rye, or wheat, and whether she wanted to add turkey, avocado, sprouts, or aioli. His questions caused her to question her decision to leave even more. For the first time since she had met Bertie at the restaurant, she felt pangs of loneliness, which she realized was why she wrote the letter to Secrets Kept in the first place even if she felt like she had been coerced.
When the yacht finally came into port, Annie was teetering between anger and sadness. She shook hands with Ed and then with Bertie before disembarking. Ed escorted her to her car and made sure she was securely behind the wheel before turning back. The rapid changes that had occurred in the last few hours were still driving Annie crazy. As a last chance to better understand what just happened, she opened the window and asked for Ed to stay for a moment.
Ed turned and as politely as ever asked, “How can I help you?”
“Did I make a mistake?”
“There are no mistakes in this situation. You expressed a preference. On Secrets Kept, your desires are always respected. Sometimes we find that having that kind of freedom makes people uncomfortable. Sometimes, it’s hard for people to allow themselves to be…well…happy. Bertie, at one time, had a tough time with that concept.”
“I’m guessing it’s over. I won’t get another invitation…”
Ed interrupted her. “You are welcome to write Bertie a new letter. However, no one is welcome on the ship without an invitation. Please resist that temptation if it arises.” Ed paused for a moment as if he had forgotten something important. “Annie. The environment Bertie created is unusual. I am not at liberty to discuss Bertie’s motivations. I suspect you sense that there is more going on here than a man simply wanting to get laid. With all due respect, who would go to these lengths? Sometimes it takes time to peel back the layers of the onion. I can assure you that he has no ill intentions.” With those words, Captain Ed walked away.