“Talk to us,” Fred called through the glass.
Ian turned on the truck. “You need to move. Now.”
Fred stepped back onto the sidewalk. Ian’s truck roared away from the curb. He didn’t stop driving until he made it to a lonely stretch of beach. He pulled out his phone to text Rick. Is Emily ok?
He erased it. Of course, she wasn’t OK. What else could he say? I’m sorry.
He sent the text to all of them. It wouldn’t make up for what he’d done, but he needed to say it. An instant later, Rick called. Ian answered immediately. “How is she?”
“Not good. Her mother is with her now. What happened? Justin gave me an abbreviated version, but I want to hear it from you.”
Ian gave him a rundown of everything starting with the kiss before Emily’s accident. Once he finished, Rick seemed at a loss for words. “Ian… Look, I think the two of y’all need some time apart. She needs to come to terms with this, to heal. She’s supposed to start back to work this coming week. I’d like you to take a leave of absence for now. We’ll see how things are this time next week and decide what to do then.”
“Yes, sir. I can’t apologize enough. I didn’t want to hurt her.”
Silence filled the line, leaving no room to hide from the truth. He had hurt her. Badly. Rick finally said, “Listen, I need to go. We’ll talk later, Ian.”
Ian swallowed hard against the lump in his throat as Rick ended the call. Immediately, it rang again. It was his talent manager, Neil. “Tell me what happened.”
Ian let his head fall back onto the headrest. “How do you know something happened?”
“Deborah called. She wanted me to convince you to do a confessional about the break up. I told her I wouldn’t pressure you, but I need to know what we’re dealing with, and I want to hear it from you.”
Ian ran his fingers through his hair and gave Neil a rundown of the situation. “Is there anything we can do to stop Treasure Hunters from airing the breakup?”
“No. I’m afraid not. This is bad, Ian. You realize this could affect your work with Swim For Safety, right?”
The Swim For Safety Foundation taught swim lessons and water safety skills to at-risk youth who wouldn’t otherwise have the opportunity to learn the vital skill. It was how Ian had learned to swim. It was also how he’d met the Holdens.
Rick had been a volunteer teacher for the swim class, and Emily had practiced alongside Ian. The rest was history—which was exactly what he’d told the Swim For Safety Foundation’s president when they’d met at a benefit two years ago.
That conversation had led to Ian becoming the foundation’s spokesperson. He’d been featured in commercials, social media campaigns, and at fundraising events. Ian would have done it all for free, but Neil had assured him a paid contract would be the easiest way to protect his partnership with the organization.
So far, the company had nothing but positive things to say about the publicity Ian had brought the company. The appreciation was mutual. Ian loved being able to help children who, like him, might not have started out with the best opportunities in life. The idea of doing anything to hurt the organization made his gut tighten with dread. “What do you mean, Neil? How could this hurt Swim For Safety?”
“Anything that impacts your brand impacts them.” Neil sighed. “Don’t kid yourself, Ian. Emily is a fan favorite. If the audience has to choose a side, it will definitely be hers. You’re going to look like the villain here.”
“I thought you said I was a fan favorite, too.”
“You are, but since you refuse to watch your own show, you may have forgotten they originally gave you something of a lady killer persona. Although I pushed them to make your image more accurate, the public still remembers it. You’ll gain no points with them by lying to your girlfriend who has gone through a really hard time and is a paraplegic, especially not in the Christian section of the fan base.”
“I never intended—” He shook his head. It didn’t matter what he’d intended, did it? It mattered how it appeared. “What do I do?”
“Damage control. Something came through this morning that might help. I was going to call and tell you about it after you finished the finale. Let me find the email.” Neil clicked his mouse a few times before continuing. “The Adventure Channel was given an opportunity to do some cross promotion on network television through their parent company. It’s a reality competition created by Living History Productions.”
“Another reality show?” Ian shook his head. “No, thank you. What just happened was bad enough without adding more fuel to the fire through additional exposure.”
“The right kind of exposure is exactly what you need, Ian. The show will air after the breakup goes public, so the timing is perfect.”
“I don’t know, Neil.” Ian glanced out toward the ocean as he considered it. “What kind of competition is it?”
“It’s an adventure challenge called Pirate’s Plunder. The email says: ‘Go back in time to live as a pirate during the Golden Age of Piracy. Prove yourself in adventure challenges. Win a treasure worth one million dollars.’”
“A million dollars?”
“The contestants are all celebrities, so the money goes to charity, but you’d get a sizable stipend that increases the longer you are on the show. Meanwhile, you’ll be on a tall ship touring the Atlantic Coast and the Caribbean. You can’t tell me the maritime archaeologist in you doesn’t find this idea intriguing.”
Ian slid his fingers through his hair and sighed. “Of course, I do, but… I don’t know, Neil. When does the show start?”
A smile entered Neil’s voice. “That’s the beauty of it. You’d be taking the place of another contestant who was injured in a preliminary sailing training session, so you’d be able to fly out as soon as possible.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“What else are you going to do? Rattle around your place by yourself for the next week feeling miserable? I bet Rick would extend your leave of absence if you asked. It would give everyone time to cool down. What do you say?”
Neil was right. This could be exactly what everyone needed—for him to disappear for a while. Besides, hadn’t he been longing for some kind of escape? He didn’t deserve one after what he’d done to Emily, but he wasn’t going to turn it down. Not when Swim For Safety could suffer from any blow to his reputation. This was the best plan for everyone involved. Resolve filled his voice. “Ok, Neil. Sign me up. Ship me out.”
Chapter Three
The midday sun poured its late-summer heat onto Ian’s skin, warming the bare muscles of his back, chest, and arms. He pulled in a deep breath that was perfumed by the familiar, salty scent of the ocean. A cool mist of sea spray bathed his brow. The wind rustled and snapped through the sails overhead. He couldn’t help smiling even as he shook his head in disbelief. Who would have thought after so many summers searching for sunken treasure ships on the ocean floor, he’d end up playing the part of a pirate?
He hadn’t been lying when he’d told the Pirate’s Plunder producers that he had sailing experience. However, he’d never sailed a tall ship before. It was just different enough from a motorized boat to make following orders a challenge. To be honest, he was having a hard time focusing on anything right now. His thoughts were too full of memories— memories that a thousand miles and more than three hundred pretend years hadn’t been able to erase.
The hurt look on Emily’s face when she’d learned the truth. The sting of the bracelet she’d hurled at him. He shook his head, clearing his mind and forcing himself to focus on the here and now. Irresistibly, his gaze was drawn to the teeming mass of blue water surrounding the ship. As always, it called to him of mysteries yet undiscovered. He longed to dive beneath the waves, to explore what lay beneath the water’s surface.
He stilled, spotting something in the distance. Was that…?
He pulled a spyglass from the pocket of his canvas breeches and pointed it sou
thward. A grin tugged at the corners of his mouth. There was another tall ship out there—a merchantman no less. This motley crew was about to face its first challenge. Being the first to spot the ship would give Ian valuable points and a good start toward winning the entire reality show. He wasted no time in yelling, “A sail! A sail! Forty-five degrees southwest.”
The contestants that made up the rest of the pirate crew stopped their various jobs to look first at him, then past him to the ship. Most grinned at the idea of the adventure awaiting them. A few shot him annoyed looks, no doubt frustrated he’d spotted the other ship first.
He couldn’t exactly blame them. This was a competition after all. How well they performed in the challenges would help determine their ranking among the crew. At any time, the captain could call a pirate council. The pirates would then vote one of the two lowest ranking pirates off the show. That pirate would then be marooned, which meant they were out of the competition.
Ian planned to take the competition seriously and do his best to stay on the show as long as possible—especially since he wasn’t sure what he’d go back to when this was all over. He barely held back a grimace. No more thinking about the Holdens today. He’d reached his quota. Instead, he turned to meet the gaze of fellow pirate crewman Brian Carter. They’d hit it off immediately, discovering their shared faith gave them much in common. Brian jerked his chin toward the sky and grinned. “Looks like we’re about to see some real action.”
Ian glanced up as a shiny, black drone buzzed overhead. “I’m ready for it.”
They both jumped when “Captain” Logan Kittredge, who also served as the show’s host, bellowed from the quarterdeck, “Aye! There’s a prize on the horizon, and I aim to have it! Put your back into it, ye lazy sea dogs. Nothing on this trip is guaranteed. Trim the sails! Hoist the outer jibs! Batten down the hatches!”
As far as Ian knew, none of those orders made sense if they intended to chase down the merchantman anytime this century. He shot a confused glance to the boatswain. Though the man technically would have been second in command of a real pirate ship, Henry Palmer was the true captain of the Intrepid for all sailing intents and purposes. Logan Kittredge was more of figurehead since the man had no sailing experience.
Henry shook his head. “Belay those orders! Maintain our current speed and heading.”
Seemingly unperturbed by Henry’s orders to ignore him, Kittredge shouted, “Crew members, assemble on the main deck.”
Once again, everyone looked to Henry, who gave a shallow nod that released them from their duties. Ian took his spot among the nine other contestants. They assumed the at-ease position as a camera panned down the line of contestants. Finally, Kittredge spoke. “Your first challenge is about to begin.”
Ian could almost hear the dramatic music swelling toward a commercial break as Kittredge took an inordinately long pause before continuing. “Once we board the merchantman, you will have six minutes to transfer the contents of its hold to your designated section of the deck. The value of your treasure will be appraised to determine your ranking among the crew. Remember, the person with the highest ranking at the end of this voyage will receive one million dollars.
“Ian, you were the first to spot the merchantman. The advantage in this challenge goes to you. Advantages cannot be shared or stolen during a challenge. Understood?”
“Aye, sir.”
Captain Kittredge handed Ian a parchment paper, then smirked at them all. “Crew, prepare for battle!”
R
Boom!
Heart pounding after what had sounded like an explosion, Ava gripped the edge of the dining table to brace herself for whatever might come next. She glanced at the camerawoman who didn’t look alarmed in the least. However, the production crew never reacted to anything, so Ava shifted her focus to her chaperone for this trip.
The widow, Kathleen Reynolds, was still muttering under her breath, cursing the embroidery sampler she’d been working on for the past hour. Ava released her grip on the table to stare at the woman. It was a good thing there weren’t any eligible men on board because Mrs. Reynolds never seemed to notice anything going on around her.
It was almost as if she was simply biding her time, waiting for this experience to be over even though it had only begun. Truly odd.
The few details Ava had garnered about the woman had revealed an alarming lack of originality by whoever had created the reenactors’ pretend histories. Kathleen was, in fact, a widow in real life. Her husband had died in a car crash ten years ago. Ava’s backstory hadn’t changed much, either. She was still a governor’s daughter traveling to St. Augustine to procure a wealthy husband.
Correction: She was the governor’s spinster daughter. The paper she’d been given had actually said “spinster.” She wanted to be offended, but the truth was, at the advanced age twenty-five, she would have been a spinster many times over in the 1680s.
Still, she couldn’t help wondering what the designation of “spinster” would mean for her once they landed in St. Augustine. Had her mother been right to worry? Had Ava unknowingly signed up for the 1680s version of a dating competition?
She was so not here for that. She was so not ready for that.
Boom!
Ava frowned at her chaperone who still didn’t react. Either the woman had nerves of steel or impaired hearing. Concern filled Ava’s voice. “Kathleen, did you hear that?”
Kathleen still didn’t look up from her poor attempt at embroidery. “Of course, I heard it.”
“Oh.” Not hearing impaired, then. Simply taciturn. “What was it?”
“How should I know?”
“It sounded like an explosion. I mean, we could be sinking or something. Shouldn’t we figure out what’s going on?”
Kathleen shooed her away. “By all means, go investigate.”
Ava held back a tired sigh. She’d had spent hours praying about the people she would meet on this historical reenactment show. She’d hoped they would be the kind of people she’d want to stay in touch with long after the show was over. Instead, she’d been given Kathleen Reynolds and only Kathleen Reynolds. Every other person on this ship was either a member of the ship’s crew or a part of the production crew.
Ava set aside the letter she’d been writing to her parents and stepped onto the main deck in search of answers. A fresh-faced sailor, who was likely on summer break from high school, approached her immediately. “Miss Emerson, the captain has ordered me to escort you to your cabin.”
“Why? What’s going on?”
“We’re under attack.”
“Attack?” Her heart leaped in her chest. Surely, her father would have warned her if there had been a specific threat made toward her. Unless he hadn’t wanted to worry her. Was that why he’d had her followed the other day?
“Yes, ma’am.” The sailor grinned. “By pirates.”
She blinked. “Pirates? We’re under attack by pirates? But—”
Pirates hadn’t roamed the Atlantic Coast for hundreds of… Her eyes widened. “Oh! Really? Where are they?”
“Abaft, miss.”
She whirled around rather blindly. “Which way is that?”
He pointed toward the back of the ship. “There. They’ll board in less than ten minutes.”
“Wow.” She caught sight of the tall ship barreling toward them on the waves. “So cool!”
“Yeah, but need to get below before they see you.” He caught her arm and urged her onward.
She dragged her feet as she caught sight of what hovered in the air behind the other ship. “Is that a drone?”
“Just another camera.” He hurried her below deck.
“They are really going all out for this,” she said. His haste and her reluctance left her stumbling down the steps. “Wait. Can’t I hide on deck somewhere and watch?”
“Absolutely not.”
He opened the door to her cabin, practically pushed her inside, and
closed it firmly behind him. She gave a huff of indignation at his rough treatment before turning to find Ted with his camera pointed right at her. She blinked in surprise. “Oh.”
Ted frowned.
Right. She was supposed to ignore him. She paced over to the open porthole and peered out. It was impossible to see anything from her room. Why had everything gone so quiet?
She returned to the cabin door and placed her ear to it. Hearing nothing in the hall, she eased the door open. A quick peek told her no one was in the immediate vicinity, so she padded down the hallway in her brocade shoes. Too late, she saw the same young sailor guarding the ladder to the main deck. She spun around, intending to rush back to her cabin.
“Miss Emerson!”
She winced slightly, but turned to meet his scowl with an innocent smile. “Yes?”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “You must stay in your cabin. Captain’s orders. Do you understand?”
She waved away his concerns. “Yes. Yes. I understand. Can you tell me what’s happening, though? Why is it so quiet?”
“We raised the white flag and await the pirates’ boarding party.”
Her eyes narrowed. “You mean we aren’t even going to put up a fight?”
“We are outmanned and outgunned.”
Well, that didn’t sound good. At least, no one would actually get hurt. She added extra kindness to her voice, hoping to soothe his bad attitude. “Thank you for telling me. I appreciate you guarding the ladder for me. I’ll go back to the cabin now.”
“And stay there?”
“Of course.” She gave a little wave, then made a disappointed face at the camera as she passed it. Mentally kicking herself, she closed the cabin door. “Honestly, this is not The Office, Ava.”
A knock sounded on her door. She opened it expecting to see the sailor. It was Ted with his camera. She let him inside. “Sorry!”
To her surprise, he responded. “It’s ok. I know it’s hard to get used to having the cameras around all the time. You’ll get the hang of it soon.”
Beyond the Tide Page 3
