Nobody's Obligation (Swimming Upstream #2) (14 page)

Chapter 28

Ava

After a shower and some sleep, Ava woke bright, bubbly, and more excited than a kid at Christmas. She didn’t have to open the window to hear the city outside. It echoed through the windows and Ava considered it strange. At home she hated hearing things through the walls or windows of her apartment complex, but in New York everything was better. The noise that had roused her only invigorated her and made her want to hurry downstairs and dive into the thick of it.

Ava was meticulous in everything she did and planning for her trip had been no exception. Digging through her suitcase, she found the travel guide with colour-coded Post-it notes poking out in all directions. She knew she would more than likely only get one shot at New York City and she wasn’t going to do it half-arsed. No matter how long it made her days.

Within minutes, Ava emerged on the street and was instantly overwhelmed. She’d made it. Ava looked up and down the street, sucking in deep breaths.
Here goes nothing
. She squared her shoulders while Penn station, directly opposite her, overflowed onto the street. Today was a walking tour, and it was starting right now. Pulling her jacket tight around her and hitching her bag over her shoulder, she set off. First stop, croissants and coffee at Tiffany’s on Fifth Avenue.

Ava’s magical week in New York went past in a blur. She’d filled two notebooks with observations, diddies, and random things that even she hoped she would be able to decipher later. She’d collected mementos, trinkets, and ticket stubs from everything and everywhere—even the occasional menu. She’d done everything that a New York City tourist should do; climbed the Empire State Building, gazed at Picasso’s finest at the Guggenheim, met Dumb Dumb at the Museum of Natural History, and paid her respects at the 9/11 memorial. Ava had eaten her way through the city and had a newfound addiction for bagels and pizza. But her absolute favourite thing to do was just be in Central Park. Each day she’d somehow found herself back in the park but always in a different spot. She’d sit and watch as people played football, skated, or took a carriage ride, and more than once she’d stumbled on a wedding. This was where she’d filled page after page with notes. Ava imagined living there and doing this daily and couldn’t help but wish it were real.

At night Ava gravitated towards the heart of Manhattan and Times Square. Despite her frugal tendencies, Ava had allowed herself to splurge and pick up tickets to a couple of Broadway shows. On other nights she’d simply wandered about, mixing with people from every walk of life. It didn’t matter how many times she’d heard it over the years that New York was the city that never sleeps, but it wasn’t until she was standing in the middle of it, surrounded by its vibrancy that Ava really understood what that meant.

Before she knew it, it was time to repack her suitcase and head for home. Whether she’d done it deliberately or not, Ava realised she’d not checked her email or Facebook since she’d landed. Pausing from her packing, or perhaps it was stalling, Ava dropped onto the bed and grabbed her iPad and logged on.

Instantly she wished she hadn’t. Her Facebook wall and private message account was full of questions she didn’t want to answer. Although she had nothing to hide, Ava was annoyed that people were rude enough to even ask. Flicking through the messages, Ava’s frustration grew. Why should she have to explain herself? People had added photos of her and Tyler as if trying to emphasise their point, but all it did was prove to Ava that they had nothing better to do. Ava surfed for a couple more minutes before she gave up, defeated. She switched the iPad off again and dropped it into the bottom of her suitcase, piling dirty clothes on top.

“That’s better!” Ava announced proudly as she squeezed her suitcase shut.

The rumbling in her stomach reminded Ava that it was dinner time and that she’d missed lunch. Knowing she still had things to tick off her list and only limited time to do it, Ava forced her mind from her phone, slipped her feet back into her well-worn runners, slung her bag over her shoulder, and headed out.

Across the street people were milling about, smiling and singing, and without warning Ava found herself wanting to be a part of it. Not sure what was going on and with no regard for her own safety, Ava dashed across and got swept up by the masses. Forty-five dollars and twenty minutes later, Ava found herself perched high in the stands, nibbling on a foot-long hot dog, waiting for the Knicks to take the court. Although she’d never been a fan of basketball, the crowd’s enthusiasm was infectious, and Ava found herself unable to wipe the wide, stupid grin from her face as she sang and danced along.

It might not have been on the bucket list, but as Ava emerged from Madison Square Garden two hours later she knew it was an experience that she’d never forget. Unable to sit still, Ava fell in step with the crowd and made her way to Times Square for her final night in New York. Ava’s plan was to stay out as late as she could handle, wear herself out completely, and sleep the entire flight home.

The alarm broke the silence early the next morning, too early for Ava’s liking. She woke miserable and frustrated and with the worst hangover imaginable—and she hadn’t had one drink. Instead she had the sugar hangover from hell. After hitting Serendipity for frozen hot chocolate, she then added Tasty De-Lite, and then just for good measure, made a midnight pit stop at M&M World, filling up on chocolately goodness to get her through the long journey home. But without thinking, she’d eaten half the bag on her way back to the hotel.

After the hottest shower Ava could stand, she dried her hair, dressed, and checked out. Within moments she was swallowed by the masses at Penn Station headed for Newark for her flight home. Sighing heavily, Ava pulled her suitcase as close as she could and remained silent. She’d heard bad things about New York’s subway system but after a week of riding it, she had no complaints. But still Ava remained cautious. After the most unforgettable week of her life, Ava didn’t want to ruin it by having something go wrong at the last minute.

And thankfully nothing did. Four hours later Ava was seated next to a middle-aged business man who sat stiffly reading the paper as the jet bounded down the runway and into the air. Ava slipped easily into sleep and slept right through to landing in LA.

Chapter 29

Tyler

Tyler’s week had been hell. No, hell was too nice. If he could find a harsher word to describe hell, then that was more appropriate. A week of fake smiling and playing nice with people who grated on his every nerve was not his idea of fun.

He’d jumped through every hoop that Jonathan and his American counterpart had lined up. He’d had dinner twice with Dannica and then they’d even managed a trip to the beach. And coincidentally everywhere they’d been, the press seemed to just appear. As uncomfortable as Tyler was, Dannica seemed to revel in the attention, and not just for her swimming. By the third outing her clothing had got noticeably skimpier and showed a lot more skin. Although she had the perfect, athletic body, Dannica was obviously milking the attention for everything it was worth. She even went so far as clinging to Tyler everywhere they went. As much as Tyler wanted Dannica to stop using him like this, he knew this was what he was there for. This was his job, and for the first time in his life, Tyler felt like he’d been pimped out. And that was not a feeling he liked. Not at all.

Anytime Tyler wasn’t on one of his mandated and scheduled outings or doing his own training session, Tyler holed up in the privacy of his hotel room. The only people Tyler had even bothered to pay any attention to were Sarah and Justin. Sarah was the lady who made his bed and changed his towels and Justin was the guy who delivered room service at any hour of the day or night. Tyler had become a recluse and he was more than okay with that.

When he’d gone to check out that afternoon, Tyler felt a twinge of guilt as he stepped into the lobby and was accosted by an eight-year-old Australian boy on holiday with his family. After spending ten minutes chatting and posing for photos, it dawned on Tyler that this was something that he loved about his job—the innocence of a child and taking the time to make them feel like they were the most important person in the world. It was so simple but so many people just didn’t think about it. Tyler always had, at least until this trip.

Shaking his head as he flopped into the backseat of his taxi, Tyler couldn’t help but doubt himself. “Maybe I should have put in more effort.”

After ten minutes he got caught up in the inevitable Los Angeles traffic. It happened every time, but this time Tyler was too distracted by his own thoughts to even notice. The thick Sri Lankan accent of his driver brought him crashing down to earth. “You Tyler Andrews,” he declared, swivelling around in his seat

Nodding, Tyler agreed. “Yep.”

“You famous?”

“Nah, not really,” Tyler told him. And in Tyler’s mind it wasn’t a lie. At home in Australia, he was probably one of the most recognisable faces, but in America he didn’t even register—especially not in Hollywood.

“Yeah you is,” the driver told him in broken English.

Shaking his head, Tyler glanced out the window and up at the hill beside him. Standing proudly atop was the Hollywood sign. Recognised across the globe, Tyler realised he was right in the heart of movie stars and some of the world’s richest. Nope, he wasn’t famous, not even close.

Before he had the opportunity to deny it again, his driver passed a tattered newspaper around the thick plastic bubble that surrounded him. Confused, Tyler accepted the paper and unrolled it. It was a local rag and not one of the major papers, but there he was. On the front cover. A simple photo of him sitting at a restaurant, his hand on the table cloth with Dannica’s resting on top. As much as Tyler didn’t want to, even he had to admit that if someone was to see that photo alone without any other information, it wasn’t a giant leap to believe that they were a young couple in love.

Tyler’s stomach turned and instantly he felt seasick. Dizzy and nauseous was not a pleasant combination.

Scrunching the paper tightly in his fists, Tyler forced himself to take deep, calming breaths. He didn’t answer again. He didn’t know what to say. Instead he sat back, closed his eyes, and pretended this wasn’t happening.

Two hours and forty-five minutes later they’d only travelled fifteen miles. After the first hour at a standstill they’d switched on the radio, desperate to find out what the delay was. Tyler had already missed one flight and was on the phone struggling to reschedule another.

“Not a fucking option,” Tyler snarled as he smashed his fingers on the screen of his phone and dropped it back into his pocket, earning him a dirty look from his driver.

Glancing at his watch, Tyler realised he barely had three hours before the flight departed, otherwise he might as well turn around and head back to the hotel. Silently Tyler rocked back in his seat and stared absentmindedly out the window. Without conscious thought, his mind drifted back to the flight over. With a smug smirk plastered on his face, Tyler couldn’t help but wonder which flight Ava was on. And then suddenly she was everywhere. He could smell the scent of her vanilla body wash as memories consumed him. Tyler barely resisted the urge to smack himself in the face. Why hadn’t he asked when she was heading home? Or for her phone number? Or her email address? Instead he’d said nothing and was now sitting in the dark with no idea.

After what seemed like an eternity the traffic broke and they were speeding towards the airport. Tyler couldn’t restrain the chuckle that gurgled from deep within him as he searched for signs of the hold up. But there was nothing. No accident, no police cars, no damage, and more strangely than anything else, all the cars which had only moments ago been clogging the roadways seemed to have just evaporated into thin air. Within minutes they were rushing down the freeway ten miles per hour higher than the speed limit. But Tyler didn’t care. The sooner he got to the airport, the sooner he could confirm his seat on the next flight out of the country.

Within an hour Tyler had checked in and clambered onto the plane, settling himself in his allocated first-class seat sipping a tall glass of ice water. Tyler couldn’t control the snort as he recalled the flight over. Warm water served in disposable plastic cups. It definitely was a different life at the pointy end of the plane. But as Tyler’s eyes scanned the cabin he realised that while the water may be colder, the air hostesses older, and a different class of passenger, it wasn’t as appealing. The lady reclined in the seat beside him was definitely no Ava. And with that thought Tyler’s heart sank. She was pretty in an overdone way. She’d obviously had surgery to keep her looking younger than her eyes gave away but she was still missing something. Maybe it was the natural calmness that Ava radiated or maybe it was the overpowering, overwhelming perfume that wafted from her direction. And she definitely didn’t appear comfortable. In economy people knew they were in for a long-haul flight and dressed accordingly. Runners, track suit pants, and baggy shirts. In first class it was a whole different fashion parade. Men dressed in business suits, starched to perfection white shirts with their ties hanging straight down their chest, their cufflinks shining under the cabin lights and their leather shoes buffed beyond normal, whilst the women wore stockings and short, straight skirts that left no room to move, and sky high stilettos.

“Surely that can’t be comfortable,” Tyler murmured under his breath.

After a few moments eavesdropping on the conversations surrounding him, Tyler decided he didn’t belong here. It had never bothered him before but unexpectedly he felt lonely. Looking down at his own appearance, Tyler felt under dressed despite the price tag that had accompanied his perfectly fitted jeans.

“Excuse me, sir, is something the matter?” a whimsical voice asked from behind him, startling Tyler back to earth.

“Um, oh, no thanks. I’m fine,” he managed to mumble, shrinking down in his chair.

“Please feel free to let me know if there is anything that I can do to make your flight more enjoyable, sir,” she offered robotically.

“Thanks,” he replied dismissively.

As she handed Tyler a hot towel with a set of shining silver tongs, she half curtseyed before sashaying down the aisle. Carefully he unfolded the towel and dropped it over his face, breathing in the clean scent and steam.
Just get me the fuck home
, his brain reminded him. Scrunching the now cool towel, Tyler dropped it onto the table beside him, settled his sunglasses over his eyes, took a deep breath, and forced himself to drift off, praying that when he woke he would be back on Australian soil.