Page 35 of Vitamin Sea

T hey were sitting in their weekly Tuesday-morning work meeting. It was Chloe’s first one since her jaunt to Costa Rica and, by this point, everyone at Strut knew that Chloe’s assignment had revolved around a naturist resort.

She had fielded questions about the sights she had seen at Costa Morpho in addition to questions from those curious as to just how those types of places worked.

Which was something she would definitely be covering in the feature.

Her coworkers wouldn’t be the only ones curious about the ins and outs of an upscale naturist resort.

Which was what she now exclusively referred to Costa Morpho as, and she found herself correcting her colleagues when they used the term ‘nudist’.

Amongst the things she had learned during her stay was that ‘nudist’, due to its supposed negative connotations, was out, and ‘naturist’ was in.

As a lover of words and the English language, Chloe was fascinated by how lingo fell in and out of usage. It was a bit like fashion, she supposed. One day Madonna’s cone-shaped bra and Millennial ankle socks were in, the next day, they were out.

After her return, several of her colleagues remarked on how relaxed Chloe seemed. It brought back memories of her first encounter with Aurelie, her travel editor predecessor.

“I could only get that kind of a glow with self-tanner!” Shai, Strut’ s assistant beauty editor, moaned to Chloe in the staff kitchen. “I want first dibs on your next trip,” he said seriously. “Sea, sand, sun, shirtless men, and margaritas.”

Chloe smiled in reply.

“My next trip is to an igloo resort in Finland—you’re welcome to tag along.”

Shai’s face scrunched up in disgust.

“Not for all of the La Mer in Sephora.”

She had left Costa Rica with the promise of seeing Jack when they were both back in Toronto, and while Chloe had hoped that would be the case, she hadn’t been entirely sure if it would happen.

On her part, the intentions were there, but she also knew that the best of intentions and the greatest of connections sometimes couldn’t withstand the rigours of actual, everyday life.

Vacation life was one thing—wait staff there to do your every bidding, maid service, gourmet meals, sand, sun, and cocktails. Reality was another.

And while she wanted to continue seeing Jack, it was without a specific goal in mind.

Just enjoy his company, really. Which she had in Costa Rica, immensely.

Still, there had been no way to know if Jack, upon returning to Toronto, felt the same.

So, it was a pleasant surprise when, two days after she had arrived back, Jack sent her a text with an invitation for dinner.

Over a meal at a downtown bistro, she was even more pleasantly surprised to find that their easy banter and conversation hadn’t just been a vacation thing.

On some level, their dinner together felt even better in Toronto.

It felt more like a real date and not a romance-novel vacation fantasy.

Which, if Chloe was honest, was kind of what her trip had felt like the entire time.

Although, while Jack had a toned body and a handsome face, there hadn’t been any open-shirt oiled-up abs, and the Fabio-esque long, golden locks hadn’t been Jack’s, they had been Chloe’s.

Jack was actually coming over for dinner that evening. It would be his first time seeing her place and she wondered whether he might feel uncomfortable being in her home. Granted, Liam hadn’t lived there for seven months, but it was still his condo and some of his belongings were still there.

As for all the things that had made her and Liam’s condo a home—smiling photos on the fridge, cute mementos of their time and travels together—she had removed all of it and put it into the building’s storage locker.

Other things, like his ugly Kansas City Chiefs blanket, she had stuffed in the back of the closet.

Horribleness—from being punted to the curb by her long-term boyfriend—aside, she was grateful that he at least hadn’t done it at the start of the football season.

The Chiefs were one of the top teams in the NFL and she wouldn’t have been able to turn on the T.V.

or even glance at a newspaper without being smacked in the face with a reminder of her ex.

As for Liam, she hadn’t seen or heard from him since the day he had told her he was coming over to pick up some of his things.

All other communication had been through his friend Karam.

Lala, at one point, after a pitcher of Aperol Spritz, had encouraged her to stop paying Liam rent and start squatting on his property.

“Would serve the fucker right!” she declared while swirling her glass of orange liquid in the air.

Chloe had chuckled. While thoughts of revenge were fun fuel to ponder, revenge wasn’t her style.

Sometimes she wished she had more fight in her, like her friend.

Lala didn’t take shit from anyone and there was never a man who had crossed her who had come out on top.

But that wasn’t Chloe. Her method of dealing with things included curling into herself, licking her wounds, and suffering in silence.

One thing her travel assignment had brought her, aside from a new love interest and a sense of peace, was the knowledge that she needed to move out.

Liam’s place was in a better location than her old condo, but she needed a fresh start.

Even if that fresh start was back there.

And so, one week after she arrived back in Toronto, she issued an N12 to her tenant and prepared to move back in.

A knock at her door alerted her that Jack was there, and when she opened it, she was greeted with a kiss and a bottle of wine.

Soft Jazz played in the background and the lights were dimmed for the evening. Above the chit-chat about their days, Chloe poured them both a glass of wine. She loved how easy it was—conversation with Jack. It flowed like they were longtime friends.

“What’s for dinner?” he asked, eyeing the assorted pots on the stove.

“Roasted veggies, saffron rice, and salmon,” she said proudly. “Oh, and French bread,” she added. “I made apple pie for dessert.”

“Sounds great,” he said, looking impressed.

Chloe beamed.

“We’ll see how well my cooking skills stack up against yours,” she teased.

“My cooking skills? You mean my ability to order in from Uber Eats?” he teased back. The night he had had Chloe over for dinner he had realized too late that he had forgotten to pick up the main ingredient for beef Wellington—the beef—and had ordered in takeout instead.

She giggled.

“I think you can probably outdo Pizzaiolo, but if not, I still appreciate the effort.”

Jack helped set the table and they had dinner and companionable conversation. Afterwards, they headed for the couch with dessert.

Chloe was just laughing at a story about work Jack told her when there was a knock at her door.

Her face scrunched up in confusion.

“Are you expecting anyone?” he asked.

“No.” She shook her head as she got up and went to answer the door. “It’s probably just a newspaper salesman. One came by a few weeks ago after someone let them into the building.”

She swung the door open and her heart nearly stopped. She was standing face-to-face with Liam Hollingsworth.

Her jaw dropped and she was momentarily struck dumb. What was her ex-boyfriend, the man who had dumped her at Opus six months ago, the man who had left her for his coworker, doing on her doorstep?

Okay, to be fair, it was actually his doorstep.

But still.

Liam looked both uncertain and confident at the same time, and in one of his hands he had her favourite bottle of wine. Her heart skipped a beat at his appearance. He was still her Liam. The same handsome, salt-and-pepper-haired Liam she had met and fallen in love with.

Only, he was no longer hers.

It was surprising for her to find that even now, half a year later, she had a feeling in the pit of her stomach at the sight of him.

It was also confusing. She thought she had gotten over him.

Perhaps, a thought flitted through her mind, the feeling was just due to the shock of not seeing him for seven months and the sudden and unexpected appearance of him on her doorstep.

“Hi,” he said with a smile.

“Hi,” she replied after a beat.

“Can I come in?” He tried to peer around her.

“Umm,” she hesitated, “now’s not a good time.”

“Oh,” Liam suddenly looked a bit put out.

“Are you okay, Chlo?” Chloe heard Jack’s voice behind her, and she turned to him with the same stunned expression on her face.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” she said breathlessly. “Give me a second.”

Liam spotted Jack behind her and his face fell.

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly. “I didn’t think . . . I should have thought . . .,” he trailed off.

“It’s fine,” Chloe said dismissively.

“Can we talk?” he asked.

She shook her head. “No. I mean, yes. We can talk. But not tonight.”

“Okay,” he sounded resolute. “I’ll text you in the morning.”

Chloe nodded and Liam thrust the bottle of wine at her.

“Take this,” he insisted. “I bought it for you.”

She hesitated a second before taking the bottle and issuing him a “thanks”.

Moments later the door was shut, and she was walking back to the couch where Jack was sitting.

Still feeling stunned, she dropped the wine onto the table in front of them and took a seat. She was dismayed to see that her apple pie was no longer steaming.

Jack watched her carefully.

“Are you okay?” he asked her again.

She nodded in response.

“Was that Liam?”

She nodded again.

“Yes.” Her voice sounded a little hoarse. “That was Liam. I haven’t seen him in seven months. I have no idea why he just showed up like that.”

Jack took a drink of wine and leaned back on the couch. He looked like he might have a pretty good idea as to why her ex-boyfriend had suddenly appeared on her doorstep, but he kept quiet.

“He said he wants to talk to me.” She turned and looked at Jack.