A/N: Thanks to everyone for reading and special thanks to: GiliwasCool, babyf, intheclosetromantic, KayKay2007 for reviewing.
"Quincy? Get your ass up."
I gingerly open one eye and then the other but my vision still isn't quite focused.
"Chelsea scheduled us a wake up call like an hour ago but yet you're still in the bed. You have 25 minutes to be downstairs…"
I rub my eyes and look to see Jude standing with her hand on her hip.
"Wake me up in like 20 minutes then," I say, rolling over onto my back. I feel her shake me, but I swat her away. "Okay 10 more minutes then."
"Tom. Get up." She says walking around to the other side of the bed. I place the pillow over my head. What can I say? I'm not at all a morning person, and it's not going to take me a whole 25 minutes to get dressed, 45 seconds maximum….
"Jude. Get out of my room," I moan, it's not like I even want to go parasailing in the first place.
"Tommy…if you don't get up," she threatens. I feel her climb on the edge of the bed. "Fine you asked for it."
She snatches the comforter off the bed. "Oh my god…" she screeches, closing her eyes.
Ha. I'm pretty sure that was a good "oh my god". The sleeping in just briefs with a little morning wood was probably not something she was expecting. But it's Florida; it's hot and humid. She better be lucky I had anything on.
I take the pillow off my head. The expression on her face is slightly a look of amusement, mixed with a lot embarrassment, and should I dare to say amazement? She walks out on the balcony. I'm guessing fresh air is required for this level of awkwardness. I'm sure this will make it on to her top 10; perhaps it's above the sweet 16-birthday party.
"Let me go get that," she says, hurrying back inside.
"Get what?" I inquire, not moving a muscle to get up.
"There wasn't a knock at the door?" she asks, standing in the doorframe, focusing her attention on her bracelet.
"I didn't hear it…" I say honestly. Ha. She didn't hear a thing. I know it; she knows it.
"I'm sure there was," she replies, backing out the door.
"If you say so," I reply, smirking.
She rolls her eyes and walks out the room all together, slamming the door behind her. I smile to myself and hop on out of bed. I've unhinged her…again. The games aren't fun to play…I'm lying they are fun.
By the time I get to the lobby, with 2 minutes to spare, Jude and Chelsea are sitting on a couch having a very animated conversation about something.
"Hey Tom, I didn't think you'd make it down on time," Chelsea smiles at me, holding out a cup of coffee to me. Ah…this is one of those times I like her. Jude seems to be taking a huge interest in the oriental carpet on the floor though. "You remember my godson Myles and my husband Ethan right?"
I look over at the couch at Myles who pauses his Gameboy long enough to slap hands with me…I've never even met Ethan properly before. He's Chelsea's newest husband, but I think it's her longest marriage. First impression? Dork. The man's wearing Khakis and a button up shirt and actual shoes…in Miami? Unheard of. "Hey man, how's it going?"
"It's going good," he replies standing up to properly shake my hand. "Have you ever been parasailing?"
"Nah."
"Me neither. I'm not a big adventure guy…" he admitted. Like I couldn't tell. He looks like the archetype of a nerd. That was harsh…but true.
I nod my head and sit down on the sofa next to him. "We'll leave as soon at my daughter Stephanie gets down here. Prepare to wait a few minutes. You know teenagers."
"Women in general…" I mutter.
Jude finally acknowledges my presence in the room, but only to throw daggers at me for my last comment I'm guessing. But its true…women do take longer. But I don't mind, the end result is usually good. Usually.
After a few more minutes of meaningless conversation the infamous Stephanie finally makes it downstairs. First impression? Airhead. Brat. Spoiled. Again, that's a pretty harsh first impression. But her outfit probably costs more than my Viper, and the cell attached to her ear this early in the morning gave me some ideas. Maybe she'll prove me wrong. I doubt it. Few people surprise me; I've been in the entertainment business for too long for people to shock me. The last person who did was probably…Jude.
"Honey…?" Ethan stands up and gestures for her to join us.
"Dad, you do NOT call me that in public places. I thought I made this clear last time," she grimaces, and then takes notice to me.
"You are NOT Lil Tommy Q…" she squeals.
"You're right. I'm Thomas Quincy…" I'd like to add bitch to that, but that'd be a little crude, I smile instead.
"From Boyz Attack?"
"Yes," I grumble, plastering my corporate smile to my face. I feel a major migraine coming on by the end of this day.
We all slumber out of the hotel and into an excursion with Ethan behind the wheel. How I get to sit beside Stephanie I have no clue. Well yeah I do. Jude's trying to look and talk to me as little as possible at the moment. But she could have had a little mercy on me and bumped Miami Barbie out the way. I was planning on catching a just a little bit of sleep…but nope. That's probably not happening.
"I wonder how come Chelsea and my dad failed to mention to me that you would be coming along," she states, aloud.
I'm thankful she didn't know though because at least now she didn't get a chance to invite a dozen or two of her little posse along.
"It was a last minute thing," Chelsea explains, "Jude and I got reacquainted last night at the bar so I invited her, and then I bumped into Tom, so I invited him too, you're dad did rent out the WHOLE boat for the rest of the day. He is always trying to get us the best of everything…" she smiles, looking at her husband all…lovey-dovey.
Stephanie looks a way from them in disgust and focuses all of her attention on me. "That's why I never plan on anything," she admits, twisting her finger around her hair, "All the good things that happen seem to happen spontaneously. You know what I mean?" she asks, suggestively.
Ew. I know what she means, but she's being a little too…flirtatious? Anyway she's what 16? Maybe 17? And why the hell isn't Ethan saying anything to her? If I had a daughter, I definitely wouldn't be letting her basically throw herself at a grown ass man. And my daughter would never go out of the house in a skirt that came up to her navel. "Uh huh." I reply. Thank god, her cell phone rings briefly distracting her. I take advantage of this and slip on my I-pod and drift off to sleep.