Kate Hoffmann - Marcus

“What kind of job is it?” Eden asked.

“Oh, I don’t know. Something in television.” Pamela ran her fingers through Eden’s hair. “Why don’t you go put on something pretty? And comb your hair.” She wrinkled her nose. “This color really does nothing for you, darling. I’ll take you to Nando and he’ll fix this for you.”

“No!” Eden said, pulling away. “I like my hair the way it is.”

Pamela hitched her hands on her waist. “Get dressed, Eden. If you meet Sally looking like that, you will be an embarrassment to me.”

Sighing, Eden walked back to her bedroom and rummaged through her closet for something decent to wear. Her wardrobe was scattered around the world, some on the boat, some at Andreas’s apartment in Paris, some at her favorite hotel in Monaco. Once she found a new place to live, she could finally put a life together and gather all her belongings in one place.

She found a taupe silk blouse and a little navy skirt that looked simple and conservative. A pair of embroidered mules completed the look. Eden was just combing through her hair when she heard the doorbell ring.

When she returned to the living room, her mother was already deep in conversation with their visitor, a tall bleached blonde with a husky voice. She was dressed exactly like Pamela; in truth, they looked like sisters.

Eden held out her hand. “Hello,” she said. “I’m-”

“Eden Ross,” the woman said dramatically, rushing toward her. “Who doesn’t recognize you? Sally Petzell. I’m a producer over at the Entertainment Network. I understand you’re looking for a job.”

“I-I am.”

“You’ve never done television before,” Sally said.

Eden shook her head. “I’ve been on television but never on purpose.”

“So what do you think you could do for the Entertainment Network? How would we use your…talents?”

Eden considered the question for a long moment. “Maybe I could do something with fashion. I’ve been to all the runway shows in Paris and Milan and New York and I have a very good eye for what’s going to be big. I’m known for my fashion sense.”

“Interesting,” Sally said, pursing her lips. “Go with me on this. Fashion is…boring. Everyone thinks they know about fashion, but who really cares?” She grabbed Eden’s hands and gave them a squeeze. “You have something special. You’re much more.”

“More than what?” Eden asked.

“Just more. You’re parties and champagne and handsome men with expensive European sports cars. Here’s what I have in mind for you. It’s a quirky take on a dating show. Reality television is so big now that we’d have no problem selling the concept. We’d call it Eden’s Adventures in Paradise. You’d travel the world to romantic locations looking for that perfect man. Every week you’d go out on a fabulous date with some heir to a European fortune or maybe even a prince or a Venezuelan polo player. You know, the kind of guys you’ve always dated. I hear the king of Spain has a son who’s available.” She pulled out her BlackBerry and typed a quick note to herself. “I’m going to have Katie give him a call.”

“You want me to date on television?” Eden asked.

“Not just date. We want you to party. We want you to get crazy and wild, all those things that you do so well. We want you to show these men the best time they’ve ever had.”

Pamela clapped her hands giddily. “Doesn’t that sound like fun, darling? You’ll travel, you’ll stay in wonderful hotels and be catered to morning, noon and night. And you’ll get paid for being yourself. What more could you ask for?”

“No,” Eden said flatly.

“No?” Sally frowned. “No to what? The prince of Spain? That was just an example. How about the prince of Wales? Now there’s a man you could loosen up.”

Eden shook her head, backing away. “No. I’m not going to do this. I’m not going to make a fool of myself anymore, especially not for the public’s enjoyment.”

“Eden, darling, consider this carefully,” Pamela said. “You don’t have much left in your trust fund, and I certainly can’t support you. Your father has cut you off.”

Eden shook her head. “I-I have to go. It was nice meeting you.” She nodded at Sally Petzell, then hurried back to her bedroom. Eden rummaged through her closet until she found her old luggage, then threw it onto the bed.

“What are you doing?”

She glanced up to see her mother standing in the door. “I’m getting out of here.”

“Where are you going?”

“I don’t know. But I can’t stay here. Call a cab for me and have them park up by the Fergusons’ house. I’ll walk up the beach. The photographers won’t know I’ve left.”

“What has gotten into you, Eden?”

“Not what,” Eden replied. “Who.”

“Who?”

She turned and faced her mother. “His name is Marcus. Marcus Quinn. And I’m pretty sure that I’m in love with him.”

IT WAS A PERFECT SUMMER day on Rhode Island Sound, the sky blue, the water calm. Marcus dangled from the bosun’s chair over the bow of the boat, the restored figurehead clamped into place. He braced his hands on the bowsprit and stared up at the mainstay, watching as a small pennant fluttered in the gentle breeze.

He’d been living on board Victorious again, finding the solitude preferable to the emptiness of his loft. Eden had been gone for a week now, and in all that time he’d been unable to convince himself it was for the best.

Every day he woke up hoping that she’d return and every night he’d lain in bed convincing himself that she wouldn’t. Their time together had been a lovely holiday that was never meant to go beyond a couple weeks. Their lives had moved in completely different directions from the start, and though the roads had intersected in one spot, they now veered off again.

He closed his eyes and swallowed back the lump of emotion stuck in his throat. Missing her had become a physical pain, nagging and chronic. His mind constantly replayed their time together, and he lost himself in elaborate plans on how he might convince her to come back.

But always in the end he was left with the realization that what they had shared had been a fantasy come to life and not real life at all.

“Is this what you were looking for?”

Marcus glanced over at his brother Ian and nodded. He held his hand out for the wrench, then fitted it over the bolt.

“It looks really good, Marky,” he said. “You do some amazing work. Hard to believe you started out with those little animals in Nana’s barn.” He shook his head. “Dec and I always used to think you were a queer one, spending all your time up in the haymow. You didn’t talk much back then.”

“I didn’t have a lot to say,” Marcus replied.

“Still don’t,” Ian countered.

“Shimmy out there and put that socket wrench over the bolt. I need to tighten this a little more.”

Ian did as he was told, lying on his stomach and reaching over the bow. Marcus carefully tightened the last bolt, then swung the bosun’s chair back to the rail of the boat. He crawled back on board and dropped the wrench into his toolbox.

“I’m almost done here,” Marcus said. “Maybe a week and that’s it.”

“What’s up after this?”

Marcus shrugged. He felt as if he was at loose ends. In truth, he wanted to go find Eden and make things right between them. Their relationship hadn’t had a proper ending. There were so many things left unsaid that Marcus couldn’t seem to move forward.

“Did you bring my video camera back?” Marcus asked. He’d been waiting for the moment to pose the question casually.

Ian cursed. “Yeah. We didn’t use it after all,” Ian said. “One of the guys brought his camera and it had a tripod. But I lost the tape. I pulled it out of the camera and set it down somewhere and-”