chapter eleven
When Sydney and Micheal arrived at the harbour the parking lot was already jammed up with expensive looking vehicles.
"Well. . .If theres only old ladies on the boat like you so rudely said this afternoon, than why are they driving corvettes?" Sydney asked sweetly.
Micheal looked baffled.
"I dunno. . .Maybe its some kind of midlife crisis?" he suggested dubiously.
Sydney threw back her head laughing.
"Micheal! People dont suffer midlife crisises when their in their sixties!" she laughed.
He looked embarassed.
"Uh. . .Yeah. . "
she took his arm then and they walked up the boardwalk following the little signs to the sea cruiser.
Sydney felt her jaw drop as she caught sight of the boat. . .No make that yatch.
"Wow! This is amazing. . . .Its almost as huge as the Titanic was. . ." she breathed in amazement.
"Titanic? Oh thats a great thought." Micheal said darkly.
She turned around and smacked his shoulder.
"The only thing that will sink this ship is your lack of enthusiasm." she threatened.
He smiled faintly.
"Oh im sorry for being such a grouch. . .If you must dump me for a sailer boy i'll cry a river. . ."
She laughed.
"Uh Micheal i dont think their are any Sailors here. . .
And why would i dump my whinny baby?" she said affectionately.
A sudden loud noise drew both their attention and they looked up just in time to see pretty fireworks sparkling high up in the sky.
"Oh yay! They've even hosting a fireworks display? Thats so cool!" Sydney exclaimed as she hurried towards the entrance.
A guard stood there And as Sydney tried to shoulder past him, he stopped her.
"Excuse me mam. I need to see your invititations first." he said sternly.
Sydney spun around and stared at Micheal.
"Um. . .Why didnt your mom give us invites?" she asked in a small voice.
Micheal frowned.
"Excuse me sir i am the hosts Son. Obviously im invited." Micheal told the guard irritably.
"Oh im sure you are. . . .Thats what they all say buddy." the guard sneered.
Micheal's eyes narrowed.
"What the heck!? You cant treat us like that. . ." he stopped as he felt Sydney's hand on his shoulder.
"Dont let him upset you like that. . " she whispered in his ear, her breath sending a shiver down his spine.
"Youre right. . ." he sighed as he leaned into her.
"Can you please take this disgusting display of affection elsewhere? Youre polluting my airspace." the guard announced in a bored voice.
This time it was Sydney who flared up.
"You dumb ass loser. . Wait till Catherine hears about this. . " she seethed.
"Did i hear my name being taken?" a silky voice spoke and the guard spun around as Catherine Vaughn appeared behind him.
"Um. . .Mam. . .This vagrants have been trying to gain access. . " he stumbled over his words.
Catherine scowled her eyes growing hard with anger.
"Excuse me. . .I dont believe i understand. . .
What did you just call my son and his pretty girlfriend?" she asked her voice icy.
The guards eyes widened in fear and horror
Sydney punched Micheal's arm lightly, as she leaned in a whispered.
"He is so busted. . ."
Micheal grinned and nodded as they both watched.
"Im sorry Mrs Vaughn. . .I didnt realise they were family. . .They didnt have invitations. . " he mumbled as he shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot.
Catherine scowled.
"Of course they didnt have invitations you fool!" she hissed.
He bowed his head in shame.
"Get out. . .I dont need you anymore . . " she said eventually.
The guard looked near tears at losing his job and Micheal couldnt help but feel sorry for him.
"Uh. . .Mom. . .Youre not firing him are you?" he asked tentatively.
Catherine glanced at Sydney whos expression also looked kinda sad.
"You really dont want me to do that?" she guessed.
At Micheal's nod, she sighed and reluctantly turned back to the shivering guard.
"I dont need you tonight. . .But maybe some other time." she said her voice hard.
His eyes lit up.
"Oh thank you so much Mrs Vaughn! I . . ."
she shook her head.
"Dont thank me. . .Thank them." she said dismissively as she took hold of Sydney's arm and pulled her on board.
"Oh wow. . " Sydney whispered as she took in the wooden baulstrades and the elgant red velvet carpeting.
The ship was at least four floors designed expansively with an airy atmosphere And soft golden lighting.
It was utterly beautiful in a medieval way that remined her of. . .Well as horrible as it became. . .The titanic.
"Welcome to the Stars Dreamer. . .The ballroom is downstairs. . If you youngsters are intrested." she winked at her.
Sydney blushed as Micheal led her down the long victorian staircase to the dancefloor where a few couples were slow dancing before dinner.
He smiled as he gently took her hand.
"Shall we dance?" he whispered in her ear.
The entire scene was so utterly romantic. .. .
Yet Sydney knew she had to admit one little secret to him.
"I i uh. . Im a terrible dancer. . " she confessed.
He shook his head smiling.
"Hey its really not that hard. . .Let me show you. . ." he said kindly.
His eyes were so . . .Endearing and lighthearted. . .
She couldnt resist him then as she he offered his hand to her.
She gently took his out stretched hand and smiled at the relief she saw in his eyes.
It just made her feel. . .So special. . .
That look in his eyes seemed to speak a million words that could never be truly expressed.
He valued her. .
He saw her entrance into his life. . .
His heart. . .A gift from God.
Nobody had ever truly felt that way about her. . .
No silly highschool or college romance could ever compare to the great depth of this.
She drew in a deep breath as she gazed into his deep green eyes.
He smiled as his fingers brushed her hip.
She shivered plesently, her arms linking behind his neck her fingers playing with the soft brown hair that curled up at the base of his neck.
"See. . .That wasnt so hard. . .
Was it?" he whispered.
She shook her head.
"No. . .It was beautiful. . " she whispered.
His lips were so close. .
So temptinly close . . And she knew she could resist.
She gave in then, leaning on her toetips her lips barely brushing his, a bolt of electricty shivering through her. . .
When a loud scream was heard from the kitchen. . .
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