Beyond the Tide

Home > Other > Beyond the Tide > Page 6
Beyond the Tide Page 6

by Noelle Marchand


  “Yep, Camille knows what she’s doing. Your microphone is live by the way,” Diana warned casually. “Always assume it’s live unless you go through the steps to turn it off.”

  In other words, Camille and the rest of the production crew were always listening. Not just to Ava, but to all the other pirates. “Right. I’ll remember. Thanks for your help.”

  “Oh, we’re not done yet.” Diana grinned. “The best thing about being a pirate is you get to accessorize like crazy.”

  Diana opened a smaller suitcase to reveal sparkling jewelry in turquoise, jade, gold, copper, and silver tones. Rings, bracelets, necklaces… and earrings! Ava gasped in delight. “I have died and gone to heaven.”

  “Don’t forget these.” Diana produced hats and kerchiefs.

  “Singing with the angels.” Suddenly she felt like she was eight years old again, playing dress up. Once Ava was all done up, Diana let her see herself in the full-length mirror that would disappear with Diana as soon as the wardrobe session was over. Ava blinked at her reflection. “Woah.”

  “You look awesome.”

  “Thank you.” Full on pirate-wench was as a more accurate description. It was very different from the refined lady she’d been when she’d walked onto the merchantman. This was rough and tumble, down and dirty, dangerous and daring. She kind of liked it. In fact, she kind of loved it.

  “Now, which dress do you want to keep?” Diana asked.

  She bit her lip. “I had my eye on the gold one… and the blue one.”

  “You are relentless. Ok. Fine.” Diana made a few notes on her clipboard. “I’ll get them for you and let hair and makeup know you’re ready.”

  “Thanks for putting up with me, Diana. I do appreciate your time.”

  Diana winked. “Happy to help. Have a good time out here, ok?”

  She barely held back a sigh and tried not to think about how different this was going to be from the experience she’d signed up for. “I’ll certainly try.”

  The hairstylist came and went quickly. Ava already knew what would and wouldn’t work with her hair. She also had a wide repertoire of hair styles at her disposal from her pageant days. However, she was extremely grateful for the hair pins, combs, and leather ties the woman gave her.

  By the time they were done, Ava’s stomach was growling. She grabbed her tricorn hat which did relatively little to shield her gaze from the sun once she stepped out on deck. A member of the production crew directed her to the Great Cabin where the pirates were being served dinner. Waning evening light streamed through the five rounded windows at the back of the cabin as well the two on the side. They lit a scene that, for once, was free of cameramen.

  She let out a breath of relief as a feeling of freedom spread through her limbs. Unless she’d been in the privy, changing her clothes, or sleeping, she hadn’t had a second out of view of a camera since walking on to the merchantman in Charleston. It was so hard to be on all the time.

  One of the nine pirates seated at the oval table caught sight of her. He nudged the guy next to him. That guy stood, and the others followed suit. They all stared at her as an expectant hush fell over the room. Keeping a serious mien, she held out her arms, dipped the fingers of her left hand, and let a “wave” pass up her arm through her shoulders and out the other hand. As the guys laughed, she executed a smooth turn, then gave a bow.

  They applauded, and she grinned. “Show’s over. Where’s the food, fellas?”

  “On the sideboard,” an auburn-haired fellow offered rather eagerly. He seemed to be the youngest of the group which probably made him several years younger than her own twenty-six years of age. Cute and rather small in stature, he reminded her of a hobbit. He added, “I’m Finn Talmage, by the way.”

  “Thanks, Finn.” She offered him a smile, then surveyed the buffet. It consisted of a covered pot and a basket of biscuits that didn’t look anything like the fluffy, buttery kind she was used to eating back home. She uncovered the pot to reveal some sort of stew or soup. “What is this?”

  A guy with a green bandana around his short, jet-black hair gave a helpless shrug. “The cook called it salmagundi. And, you can call me Caleb. Caleb Nguyen.”

  “Caleb.” She nodded at him as she tried to commit his name to memory. She gave the pot a suspicious look even as she reached for a wooden bowl. “This is salmagundi, huh? What’s in it?”

  “We can’t quite tell.” This came from the guy who’d yelled at Ian to move off the gangplank. He didn’t offer his name.

  She dipped a ladle into the pot. “I see celery in here. Or is it bell pepper?”

  “Could be both,” said the sitting next to Ian. There was a gentleness in his dark brown eyes despite the fact he was the tallest and most muscular in the room. He hooked his thumb toward the last guy who’d spoken. “That’s Jeff. He forgot to introduce himself. My name is Brian.”

  “Hi, Brian. Thanks for introducing Jeff.” She glanced at Jeff whose brow furrowed in annoyance. “Wasn’t there another pirate?”

  Finn nodded. “Adam was voted out at pirate council. I don’t think we’ll be seeing him anymore.”

  “Oh.” The wardrobe consultation must have lasted longer than she’d thought. She took one not-quite-a-biscuit as Brian made room for her on the bench. It was pretty close quarters with Caleb on her other side. Uncomfortably close, especially since everyone was still staring at her.

  She waved them on. “I didn’t mean to interrupt. Go on back to whatever y’all were talking about.”

  The silence got more awkward as a couple of them sent each other guilty looks. She was pretty sure that meant they’d been talking about her. She held back a smile. “Maybe we should continue with the introductions. I’m Ava Emerson. I’m from Texas. I thought I was on a historical reenactment show.”

  The men each told her a little about themselves. Brian was excited about getting married to his fiancée, Angela, as soon as this competition was over. Jeffrey Blake should be training for Wimbledon right now. Philip Rosales, who sat on Ian’s right, was a photographer for National Geographic.

  Dash Metcalf—no, Dash was not a nickname, but his full name—was a male model. He was literally the poster boy for a designer cologne. Noah West was burgeoning Country singer hoping this show would help him make it big. Finn owned a tech company. Scott Haines was a weatherman from a small town in Idaho.

  That was the lot of them except Ian whom she already knew. He gave a condensed version of what he’d told her about himself for the benefit of the other guys, then said, “Listen, I’m not going to lie. I’m not the best with names. I know y’all trained together earlier this week, but I just flew in yesterday. Please don’t be offended if I don’t get everyone’s names right to start out with and don’t be afraid to correct me.”

  “Ditto,” Ava added even as she internally cringed at giving herself that allowance. Her dad had an uncanny ability to remember names. Her, not so much. Thankfully, no one seemed offended by Ian’s request. She dipped the biscuit into the salmagundi to soften it. “Is this hardtack? I bet its hardtack.”

  Finn nodded. “That’s what the cook said.”

  “Score one for me.”

  Caleb leaned forward to meet her gaze around Brian. “How do you like the samgulla?”

  Jeff snorted. “That isn’t what it’s called.”

  “Whatever. Who cares? Do you like it, Ava?”

  “It’s actually pretty good. I’m not sure what this meat is, though. It definitely isn’t ground beef. Maybe turkey?”

  Ian’s mouth tilted into a wry grin. “It might be better not to ask.”

  “Yeah, Ava.” Dash winked at her. “Don’t ruin the mystery.”

  Noah West, country superstar-to-be, looked worried. “Do you think they’re going to starve us? They do that sometimes on these kinds of shows. They amp up the drama by making you go hungry until you can’t think straight.”

  Dash grimaced. “I hope not. I need to ma
intain my BMI.”

  The conversation flowed naturally for the rest of the meal. She assumed that meant she’d been accepted into the group. Hopefully, they’d treat her as one of the guys from now on. As attractive as all of them were, her parents expected her to behave with the discretion of America’s potential first daughter. A reality show romance was a definite no-go. Although, if she had to pick one…

  She cut off the thought before it could fully form. Her gaze was less than obedient. It settled on Ian. He sat across the table from Brian. His eyebrows were scrunched together slightly. Though his attention was locked on his bowl of salmagundi, his spoon moved through the mysterious contents with an almost-aimless quality.

  He glanced up. Before she could glance away, his gaze connected with hers. The distant look in his eyes cleared immediately. She took a chance and lifted her eyebrows incrementally, silently asking if he was ok. The wrinkles in his brow smoothed out. His eyes warmed until he smiled. He gave the tiniest of nods. She smiled back, then refocused on her food.

  Warnings blared through her head, and she listened intently to each one. So what if Ian was kind and a Christian and from Texas and was gorgeous? So what if he wasn’t wearing a wedding ring? That didn’t mean he was single. Even if by some chance he didn’t happen to be taken, she was not going there. No way. No how. Not happening. Period. Ok? Ok.

  Chapter Six

  Apparently, Ian’s late arrival to the Intrepid meant Henry Palmer didn’t entirely trust him to know his way around the ship. Ian might not have had much hands-on experience sailing a tall ship, but he’d been studying them since he’d first heard the tale of the Mariposa. He might have explained as much if Palmer hadn’t been so intent on remedying Ian’s ignorance through a special assignment this morning.

  Instead, Ian had swallowed his protests and agreed to improve his knowledge of the ship by studying with someone else. Of course, the identity of that his study partner might have had something to do with Ian’s easy compliance. He glanced down at the study sheet for a new question. “Locate the fore topsail.”

  “The fore topsail…” Ava lifted her gaze to the rigging. She’d pulled her hair back in some kind of fancy braid, but the wind teased at a few tendrils her kerchief couldn’t contain. One danced across her cheek and caught on her lips. She brushed it away. “It’s fore, which means it’s on the foremast. Topsails are beneath the topgallant sails and above the courses, which makes it that one.”

  He forced his errant gaze to look where she was pointing. “You’re right.”

  She was always right. Her victorious little smile told him she was well aware of the fact. Smart and smokin’. Not that he should be noticing. Especially not with a camera capturing every nuance of their interaction.

  Across the deck, Jeff and Caleb started arguing. Again. Any sane person would split up the pair, but this was a reality show. Creating drama was kind of the point. Proving that, the cameraman left them to film the squabble. Ava sagged ever-so-slightly in relief. The reaction was barely noticeable, but it confirmed Ian’s suspicion.

  He turned off his mic and motioned for her to do the same. She gave him a quizzical look but complied. “What it is?”

  “Ava, you know there are cameras everywhere, right? Even if they aren’t filming you, they have the audio feed. They can overlay it onto any B-roll they want.”

  “Oh.” She tensed. “I know the microphones are always live, but I didn’t realize the production team would cut and paste like that. And what do you mean cameras are everywhere?”

  “I mean, they knew quarters would be tight, so they use hidden cameras below deck.”

  Her eyes widened even as they filled with dismay. “Are you kidding me?”

  “No. The technician went through the ship adjusting cameras the morning before you got here. They had to fix a problem with the video feed. It goes to their control room where the director calls the shots. That’s why the cameramen have wireless ear pieces.”

  “I had no idea.” She clutched the collar of her shirt. “Do you think there’s one in my bedroom?”

  He grimaced at the thought. “Surely not. There are cameras in the guy’s bunk room, but we also have a camera-free designated changing area. Still, I would check. Even if there isn’t one in your room, there could be one close by. Like I said, they’re everywhere, especially in the great cabin, since it’s the main place we all gather.”

  She groaned. “Oh, no.”

  “What?”

  She covered her cheeks. “My stupid dance. I had no idea I was being filmed.”

  “It’s no big deal. You were just being silly.” Realizing she was blinking back tears, he eased in front of her, blocking her from the view of any long-range camera shots. “Hey, what’s all this about?”

  “Nothing.” She glanced toward the squabble still happening across the deck. Finn had jumped into the argument to act as a peacemaker, but it only seemed to be making things worse. At least, it kept the cameras busy. “It’s just… I guess I didn’t realize how hard it would be to keep my public face on all the time.”

  “Woah.” He gave her a startled look, then narrowed his eyes in suspicion. “You have more than one face?”

  Her brow wrinkled in confusion. “I—What?”

  Gently catching her chin, he turned her face one way then the other. “Is the other one as pretty as this one?”

  The confusion cleared to reveal a mix of amusement and exasperation. “Ian.”

  “Because that would be really unfair to other women.”

  “Oh, my word.”

  He looked down his nose to peer even closer. “Hold on. I’m looking for a seam.”

  She choked out a laugh even as she placed a hand on his chest and lightly pushed him away. “Yuck. So weird. What is wrong with you?”

  “Just trying to cheer you up.” He grinned. She let out a huff which only made him laugh. “What did you mean about a public face?”

  She shrugged. “You know, when I’m out helping my dad campaign or I’m being interviewed or something, I have this public image I have to maintain.”

  “Princess Ava.”

  “What?”

  “It’s what they call you.”

  She frowned. “I’m not royalty.”

  He tilted his head. “Well, technically, you are Hollywood royalty, right?”

  “My mom might be, but I’m not.”

  He shrugged. “Ok, but it kind of seems like you’re supposed to behave like you are.”

  She thought about it for a second, then nodded. “Decorum, respectability, and brilliance at all times.”

  “That sounds exhausting.”

  “I didn’t realize how much so until now. Usually, I have a break. Time out of the spotlight.” She shook her head. “How do you do it? How do you live with cameras following your every move all the time on Treasure Hunters?”

  He ran his fingers through his hair and accidentally knocked off his kerchief in the process. It was almost as much of a nuisance as the clip-on earring had been. “Well, I’m sure it helps that I don’t watch the show.”

  “You don’t watch your own TV show?”

  “Why should I? I lived it. I know what happened. Plus, I watched the first episode, and it was really weird seeing myself on TV.”

  She stared at him in disbelief. “You haven’t seen any of it since the first episode? How many seasons have there been?”

  He shrugged. “They were about to wrap the fourth one a few days ago.”

  “Wow.”

  “Yeah. At this point, cameras have become a fact of life. I’ve learned to ignore them. Maybe you can’t. That’s ok, too. There’s a lot of space between being completely unguarded and worrying about your public image every second of the day. You need to find what works for you. Obviously, this isn’t. You’re already stressed out and the competition has barely started.”

  “What am I supposed to do?” Ava’s gaze settled somewhere past his le
ft shoulder and widened.

  He turned to find Camille storming toward them dressed like a member of the sailing crew. “What happened to your microphones?”

  He shrugged. “I turned them off.”

  Her eyes narrowed into an icy glare. “You turned them off?”

  “Yes. Sorry to worry you. We’ll turn them on again in a second.”

  “See that you do.” She spun on her heel and retreated below deck.

  “Yikes,” Ava whispered, already reaching for her mic.

  Ian caught her hand to still her. “Don’t be intimidated by the production crew. Without you and the rest of the talent, they don’t have a show. It’s important to have healthy boundaries with them.”

  She gave him an uneasy frown. “I need to stay on their good side. I can’t afford a bad edit.”

  It was a valid point. One Neil had repeatedly tried to make with him. Maybe Ian shouldn’t be the one to hand out advice on this subject. After all, it had taken Neil’s strong-arm tactics to get the Treasure Hunters crew in line when it came to Ian’s portrayal on the show. Or… Perhaps it made him exactly the right person.

  “They’re going to do what they want, Ava. No use tying yourself up in knots over it. You have good judgment. You have morals and standards. You know how to behave. Trust yourself. Trust God. Be you.” Spotting the cameraman heading toward them, he released her hand to turn his mic back on. “You’re doing great. Let’s move on to the commands.”

  The rest of their study session demanded his full attention. Yet, as soon as he was assigned another task, his thoughts flew right back to Corpus Christi. Truth be told, the mess he’d left behind was never far from his thoughts. He knew he couldn’t run from his past forever. He needed to face what happened with Emily and the Holdens if only in his own mind.

  Without the Holdens, Ian was a man without a family. Unless… He spared a quick glance over at Brian, Ava, and the rest of the crew. Surely, at least a couple of these guys would be worth keeping around after the show was over. But, to hope any of them would able to replace what he’d had with the Holdens seemed premature, unlikely, and somewhat desperate.

 

‹ Prev