Chapter 1
Most people would consider riding a hundred miles on a bicycle to be insane. Spending seven to eight hours on a bike seat is painful and seems like sheer madness. Every muscle is aching, and every inch of soft tissue gets irritated. And the thought of beginning a hobby as a long-distance rider at the age of forty might seem crazy to most people, but to Ellinor Pierson, it was pure personal pleasure and a meditative escape. It was a competition with herself of mind, body, and spirit.
The challenge was finding the right bike, the right saddle, and the right route to ride for hours at a time without becoming a hood ornament. Nevertheless, by age forty-three, Ellie had pushed herself to complete a handful of Century rides and had worked hard to improve her time for biking a hundred miles to a very impressive fourteen miles per hour. Although she worked out at the gym several times every week to keep her upper body toned, it was the hours she spent on the bike that gave her the adrenaline rush and the time to take in the sights and sounds of mother nature. Ultimately, cycling is what kept her sane.
Ellie and her husband Jeremy had been married for twenty-two years, and the last of their three children was all grown up and out of the house. It was supposed to be a time when they would enjoy their empty nest years together. But when Jeremy started working more rather than less, Ellie found herself wanting a personal goal that was special to her. She had been a casual rider for years but only started getting serious about cycling at the end of an accomplished real estate career. Initially, she felt guilty about riding for hours at a time, but when Jeremy began traveling frequently for work, she quickly decided long distance cycling would be the perfect hobby. And once she went on her first twenty-five-mile ride, she was hooked.
But after a few years of cycling alone for long distances, Ellie was a little puzzled when her husband unexpectedly asked if he could start riding with her. After all, biking was her special alone time. However, since their marriage had been somewhat strained for the past few years, and Jeremy had suddenly taken an interest, she decided to give him a chance to be a part of that special time. After a few months of cycling with Ellie, he even expressed an interest in competing with her in the next big ride, the North Las Vegas Century. They trained together through Las Vegas, where they had lived for the past twenty-three years, taking advantage of the great bike lanes and smooth roads and then into the countryside, where the scenery captured her mind.
After months of training, the big ride day had finally arrived. Ellie and Jeremy were ready to take it on together, as a couple. The North Las Vegas Century started and ended at the entrance to Red Rock Canyon. With over 3500 riders, the start of the race was an exciting and chaotic sight. Ellie and Jeremy quickly sped through the starting gate and immediately moved over to the right to let the faster cyclists jockey for position. They were both familiar with the canyon, having ridden it at least three times a week, and knew every hill, curve, and landmark. After the first five miles, the line of cyclists began to stretch out all along the canyon road. The route took them south to Blue Diamond Highway, then to Silverado Drive, and over to the southernmost section of Las Vegas Boulevard.
A straight twenty miles to Terrible’s Casino down the boulevard led them to the halfway mark. The route was littered with water stops, aide stations, and snack debris. After six and a half hours of sustained cycling, she crested the last major hill of Red Rock Canyon on the return, and she knew she was only five miles from the finish of her sixth Century ride and the first she’d done with Jeremy, who impressively trailed her by only a few feet. Her cycling jersey advertised the event in bright blues and yellows, hugging her curvy chest and shoulders, while her cycling shorts displayed her long, well-toned and extremely tanned legs, covered in bike grease and smudges. Salt covered her sweat-soaked skin, and although it was October, her legs showed the burn of the sun. She was both excited and exhausted.
Topping the plateau at Bonnie Springs, Ellie sailed downhill, gaining speed and gripping the handlebars tightly as she faced a twelve-mile-an-hour side wind. She knew she would be moving fast, but the wind was loud, and she could barely hear the cycling app on her phone announcing her speed at thirty-seven miles an hour. Despite the challenge, she smiled and knew she could sail all the way across the finish line with virtually little pedaling. Then, she saw the sign for the last “cattle guard crossing” and tightened her grip. The slight uphill caused her to stand up for the last down pedal to get a little boost over the guard.
Suddenly, her right foot broke free of the pedal, and she plunged to the asphalt. At that moment, everything began moving in slow motion. Her body rolled down, hitting the pavement, and she and the bike tumbled over. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Jeremy swerve to miss rolling over her, straight into the traffic lane and get hit by a passing truck. His body was catapulted into the air, still attached to his bike, and he hit the pavement in the traffic lane. Ellie instinctively threw out her right hand to guard her head as it slammed against the asphalt. The pain in her right shoulder screamed as if her arm were being ripped from her body. Her skin roasted as it skidded along the graveled shoulder tearing flesh. Her head slammed against the surface, cracking her helmet down the back like it was hit with a sledgehammer. Fireworks went off behind her eyes, all sound stopped, and then darkness started to take over her vision as she lay still on the pavement. For just an instant, she saw Jeremy’s lifeless body lying on the road, eyes open and still, as she faded into darkness.
She jolted as if in a dream, awake in the rear of the ambulance with the siren blaring, and she felt her body rocking from side to side as the vehicle moved into the emergency entrance of a nearby hospital. As she was wheeled down the hallways on a gurney, she saw only the ceiling lights race past like the strobes on a dance floor. Then she closed her eyes and fell into unconsciousness.
Two years later, Ellie jolted awake in a sweat from the nightmare of that tragic day. She heard the in-cabin bells ringing, then an announcement: “Ladies and gentlemen. We have started our final approach to Marco Polo airport.” The flight attendants, despite being on their feet for the past twelve hours, looked freshly pressed in their spiffy uniforms as they began their landing announcements.
Ellie hated flying. Even though she had slept briefly, it was certainly not a restful sleep. Once again, she dreamed of that day when her life changed. Now, with three grown children and nobody to spend her empty-nest years with, she felt completely alone.
She always felt drained after a long flight. Plus, the chaos of over 300 people trying to exit through three small doorways only added to her stress. But now that the plane had landed safely, she took a deep breath, gathered her carry-on bag, and waited for an opening in the conga line so she could head down the jetway to the baggage area of the airport in Venice, Italy.
Surprisingly, the five infants on the flight had been relatively quiet. Flying at night was usually quieter, as everyone tried to get enough sleep to push through their first day in the time zone, which was nine hours ahead. Despite the glaze over her eyes, Ellie focused on the myriad of ads and photos showcasing all that Venice had to offer. As she moved through the terminal, she could smell the onion and garlic of freshly prepared marinara and heard the laughter of patrons sharing a glass of wine before departure. She had worn black leggings for the flight for comfort’s sake, but she planned to quickly slip into the restroom to change into the casual fall skirt and sleeveless top she had packed in her carry-on. Though she didn’t need to “impress” her girlfriends, she didn’t want to continue to wear the woman-in-mourning attire she had become too easily accustomed to.
After finishing the process of packing and selling her large family home in Las Vegas that she’d shared with Jeremy, Ellie had finally gotten away from it all. She couldn’t decide where to move, so she figured now was a good time to travel and give her future some deep thought. She was meeting her three best gal pals from college and embarking on a two-week cruise of the Adriatic.
At forty-five years old, Ellie was a tall, dark blonde with a great tan who stood at 5’10” and weighed 115 pounds. Her shoulders and arms were athletically toned, her long, sculpted legs were the result of hundreds of miles of road cycling. Her body was strong, but she knew her core needed some more work. Her stomach not as flat as she’d like, but she had given birth to three children. She spent hours in the canyon in Las Vegas, hiking and biking. In her opinion, there was no better city to bike and hike. She also worked out regularly, especially in the last two years, to pass the long days and exhaust herself physically, which helped her sleep through the lonely nights.
Before she had walked far from the jetway, she heard her name called out by a familiar voice. Jenny Stanton was running towards her with Cameron Lane hanging on her arm. The three embraced in the middle of the foot traffic and roller bags and screamed. Tears flowed as they just stood in place and hugged. Ellie hadn’t seen either of them since Jeremy’s funeral two years before, but they had talked regularly and had decided they all needed this trip.
Jenny and Cameron were both Ellie’s age. Jenny was a short blonde, with pale, ivory skin and a smile that stopped men in their tracks. She was well-toned in the upper body, no doubt from lifting her fifty-pound grandson all day during her baby-sitting duties, and from her hours in the gym with a personal trainer. She was also a widow, however, having lost her husband twelve years earlier, she had grown comfortable being single. She loved to dance and didn’t date much, but she had a group of singles she socialized with to keep her vocabulary from being limited to that of an eight-year-old.
Cameron was divorced with one daughter who had recently graduated from high school and left for college. Cameron was shorter than the other girls, curvier, and had beautiful shoulder-length black hair with cascading curls. Even though she lived in Florida, she had pale skin with a few freckles across her nose. She had retired early, courtesy of alimony, and devoted herself to making sure her daughter was on the right path. Like Jenny, she was well-toned from her daily two-hour gym sessions. She dated now and then, but most never went past the first date. Men had been interested but she didn’t allow herself to get serious with anyone, at least while her daughter was still at home.
“My God, don’t you ever eat? You look like a stick. But of course, on you, it looks terrific,” Jenny commented. Ellie had lost twenty-five pounds in the last two years since Jeremy died; not that she needed to, and she wasn’t really trying. Maybe it was grief, or perhaps guilt, that just melted the pounds away.
“I do eat!” Ellie replied. “Just not much. I don’t have much of an appetite these days. Plus, going to the gym passes the time. I’ve been busy, staying busy. You remember how it is packing up to move!”
“So, you sold the house?” Cameron asked.
“Yes, the closing was last week. Most of the stuff I’m keeping in storage, but I shipped some to my son in Palm Springs. I don’t know where I’m going yet. Hey, we have about two hours before we meet the bus to the port, so let’s find a quiet place to have some wine and start catching up?”
Finding a quiet place in the airport in Venice was challenging, but after leaving the main terminal area, they headed towards baggage claim and found a small café with a spot in the back. The tables were crowded with people drinking, laughing, and passing time until their own adventures began. Ellie ordered a glass of red wine, Jenny an Italian beer, and Cameron, a Diet Coke. Cameron, being a non-drinker, was always their designated driver.
Their conversation jumped from families to jobs to memories of college years. After the second round of drinks, the girls headed to baggage claim and then went outside to meet the bus that would take them to their cruise ship at the port. The minivan pulled up, and a handsome young Italian man dressed in tight black slacks and crisp white shirt hoisted their luggage into the back and assisted the ladies into the van. After the wine and the twelve-hour flight, Ellie was starting to fade, but she was determined to force herself to stay awake until the evening, or else her body’s internal clock would be screwed up for days.
The Adriatic Princess was a small ship by cruise line standards, holding only 400 passengers and specializing in luxury cruising. The luxury was immediately visible; the ship was plush. The highly polished deck reflected like a mirror beneath their feet. The brass rails and fixtures looked like they were straight from the factory. The deck was covered with bright-colored chaise lounges, tables, and chairs, but it wasn’t overcrowded, leaving plenty of room to mingle. The ship’s crew were mixed among the passengers as they boarded, answering questions and giving directions. The captain of the Princess stood on the Lido deck, wearing a white uniform with slacks and a short-sleeved military-style shirt, including the appropriate naval-style captain’s rank insignia. He welcomed the passengers and invited everyone to enjoy the complimentary cocktail hour buffet, which was already set up, and Champagne, which was flowing freely. As they made their way up the ramp to the welcome area, Ellie focused on people-watching while Jenny headed for the food—after all, her body clock said it was mealtime. Cameron was her usual quiet self, asking only about the planned excursions.
“Look at that one with the teenager hanging on his arm! Do you think she’s even eighteen?” Ellie chuckled, gesturing at the strikingly attractive broad-shouldered man with dark blonde hair, muscular build, and some hints of gray at his temples. “He brought his own entertainment on board!”
Then he slowly turned and, noticing Ellie looking at him, he smiled, blinked his deep blue eyes, and tipped his head to acknowledge her before continuing to walk arm in arm with his date, moving upstairs to the next deck and balcony cabins. Ellie found herself looking at his lips then back to his eyes, feeling her face flush and her body heat up. She followed his eyes until her neck strained, then snapped her gaze back to the girls. The slight stabbing in her stomach was something she hadn’t felt in a long, long time. She quickly assured herself it was purely the lust for the touch of a gorgeous man. She longed to be touched, kissed, and held not just by any man, but a special man. But she had convinced herself, she didn’t deserve to find that special man for a second time. Still, just looking at the attractive stranger made her flush. She quickly grabbed a glass of “welcome” Champagne to cool down and hide her red face. After a bit of mingling with the welcoming crew, the girls headed downstairs to the two inside cabins they had reserved.
“Has anyone heard from Bev?” Jenny asked. Beverly Adams was the fourth in the original college gang that had stayed in touch through the years. She lived and worked in Vienna but maintained a relationship with the girls through Facetime calls and WhatsApp photo sharing.
“When I spoke to her last week, she said she would meet us on board because of a last-minute work thing,” Cameron replied.
While Ellie stood in front of her cabin, Jenny and Cameron opened the door to their cabin, which had pull-out twin beds, a small functional bathroom with a shower, and a tiny porthole window. Clearly, the plush aspect of the ship didn’t extend to the interior economy cabins.
“Wow, do you think they could have made it any smaller?” Jenny looked at the other girls and sighed. “Well, I guess we did get the cheapest rooms they had…”
“We’re not going to be spending too much time in the room, so what difference does size make?” Cameron asked. The shortest of the three, she hopped on the pull-out bed to peer out the window.
“Can you see anything? Does it open?” Jenny asked pointedly.
Cameron sighed. “No, it doesn’t. You can see the water, that’s about it.”
Ellie opened the door to her room, noticing a beautiful bouquet of welcome flowers and a bottle of Champagne, but no Beverly. The note on the flowers simply read: “Sorry, girls. Work continues to dominate my life, had to cancel at the last minute. Drink a few glasses for me. Maybe I can meet you in Venice after the cruise? I’ll keep in touch. Love, Bev.”
Ellie started to tear up. And, like Jenny seemed to always do in situations such as this, she swiftly entered the room and read the note. “Hell, look at this way—you have a private room, and we have bottle of Champagne.”
Ellie simply looked at Jenny and sighed. “I’ve had a private room for the last two years; I was looking forward to a little company but I guess I should be used to being alone. Well, we might as well get this party started.” As the ship pulled out of port, the three girls popped the cork and toasted to their next two weeks of fun in the sun adventure.
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