by Julie Cannon
“Do you live here?” I asked, indicating her boat.
“No. I have a boat at the marina. Actually she’s not far from where you rescued me from debtors’ prison at the grocery store. Do you want to call your family?” Bert asked without taking her eyes off what was going on out the front window. “I have a ship-to-shore radio.”
“What time is it?” I really didn’t know for sure. My sense of time was still out of whack, and I didn’t even know exactly how much time had passed since breakfast.
“A little after seven,” Bert replied after glancing at a clock above her head.
“My assistant isn’t in yet,” I said. “She usually gets in around nine.”
“Won’t your parents be worried?”
“My parents are somewhere in the Greek islands with my sisters.”
“So the only person you want to call is your assistant?” Bert asked. That was a loaded question if I ever heard one.
“Yep, that’s it.” I didn’t add anything more.
After a long silence, Bert nodded a few times. “Nobody special?”
I studied Bert’s profile in the light streaming in from the windows. She had a nice, well-proportioned face and a small scar just below her left eye. Her hair flipped over her collar in the back. I’d thought she was attractive in the store, over our cup of coffee, and even now as she studied the compass to her left.
“If there were I wouldn’t have agreed to let you buy me a coffee the other day. I don’t cheat.”
“It was just a cup of coffee.”
“I don’t believe that and neither do you,” I said a little too adamantly. She missed my look of complete skepticism.
“A girl can hope, you know,” Bert said. “Not the cheating part,” she added quickly.
My heart skipped a little at a wild thought of where our coffee date might have gone from there. I wasn’t opposed to having sex on the first date. Sex was sex, plain and simple. Nothing everlasting about it. That was my new mantra post-Ariel.
“Do you tell anyone when you go out?” Bert asked, returning her focus to her crew.
“How many times are you going to ask me that? I’ve already told you I do,” I replied, trying not to bite Bert’s head off. “I filed the required notice at the harbormaster’s office. They don’t expect me back until Sunday evening.”
“Do you at least contact someone every day to check in?”
“No,” I said. “I’ve been sailing for twenty-five years, and I know what I’m doing.” I tried not to sound defensive, but the tone of Bert’s questions was pushing my frayed buttons.
“Then that makes you…”
“Thirty-seven,” I answered, even though it was none of her business.
“You’d think that being thirty-seven and after sailing for twenty-five years, you’d know better.”
“What does that mean?” I snapped.
“Anything can happen out here,” she said, waving her arm toward the vast ocean. “You could break down, have an accident, slip and knock your head on the boom. Or your boat could catch fire in the middle of the night, leaving you with a life vest and nothing else,” she added, during the last part looking at me like duh.
“And you could hit a hidden iceberg,” I shot back lamely. Why did I let her get to me like this?
*
“Alissa.” Bert’s voice was warm and soft. I must have dozed off, because when I opened my eyes I was still sitting in the chair on the bridge and she was standing in front of me. Shit, how had that happened? The last thing I remembered was seething after Bert implied I was incompetent.
“Why don’t you go lie down for a while?”
I was a little groggy so I must have been doing more than dozing. I rubbed my chapped hands over my face and grimaced. Shit, I’d forgotten about my sunburn. How could I do that? Every time I saw my reflection in a mirror I was reminded of a cooked lobster.
“Obviously I just took a nap,” I said inanely. Having Bert this close and looking at me this intently turned my mind to mush. And watching her smile like she was doing right now left me a little rattled. “I’ll make that call now,” I said, pulling myself together.
Bert dialed in the ship-to-shore radio and handed it to me. I gave the operator the number to my office, and it was picked up on the second ring.
“Alissa Cooper’s office,” Marie answered, sounding professional.
“Hi, Marie, it’s me.”
“Alissa? My God. It sounds like you’re a thousand miles away.”
“Close enough,” I replied. Crap. I really didn’t know where in the hell we were. “Something’s come up and I won’t be in the office on Monday like I planned.”
“Okay,” Maria answered, sounding perplexed.
I looked at Bert, who nodded. Because the ship-to-shore call was really radio to phone, Bert was privy to our entire conversation.
“Alissa?”
“I’m here,” I said, frowning. “I ran into a bit of trouble when I was out on the boat.
“OMG, Alissa, are you all right?” The panic in Marie’s voice was clear. Though she was only twenty-four, she was like a mother hen.
“I’m fine, but my boat sank.”
“What? Like the Titanic?”
“No, not like the Titanic.” I shook my head. At times Maria acted like she was exactly twenty-four. “But I won’t be in for a few weeks.”
“A few weeks?” she shrieked. “How are you fine if you won’t be in for a few weeks?”
“It’s a long story, but a fishing boat on their way out on a six-week job picked me up. There are storms all around us, and since I’m not hurt, the coast guard won’t come and get me, and the boat can’t turn around and take me home. So I’ll be in when the boat comes in.”
“A fishing boat? With fishermen?” Maria was a city girl, and she’d find the idea of anything to do with fish that wasn’t sushi appalling.
I cringed at her tone and what her few words implied. “It’s not like that, Maria. The captain and her crew are fine, trustworthy people.”
“Her crew?”
“Yes, her crew.” I used the tone that always ended the conversation. “I need you to reschedule everything on my calendar until I get back.” I proceeded to give all of my staff additional assignments, certain they could handle them. “Would you call my parents? They’re somewhere in the Greek islands. Their itinerary is on my desk. You can leave a message at the hotel where they’re staying. And call Rachel. If she finds out about this from someone else, I’ll never hear the end of it.” I’ll never hear the end of it anyway, I thought. “One other thing. Get the billing information for a ship-to-shore radio call registered to the boat the Dream out of Boston. Put this call on my account and every other call I make from here.”
Bert’s head turned quickly to look at me. No, she said, mouthing the words.
I waved off her objection.
“Got it,” she said, and I could hear her tapping the screen on her iPad. She never went anywhere without it. “And you’re sure you’re all right?”
I couldn’t help but glance at Bert, who thankfully wasn’t looking at me. I had no idea how to answer that question, so after a few more last-minute details, I ended the call and handed the handset back to Bert.
“You don’t have to do that,” Bert said, the muscles of her jaw working.
“I’m not going to argue with you about this. Ship-to-shore costs a fortune, and it was my call, so I’m paying.” I had little control over my life these days, but I could have control over this situation.
“You’re pretty good at issuing orders.”
“Comes with being the boss. You know how it is,” I added, especially after seeing her with her crew today.
Bert nodded. “Yes, I do, and with it comes the thrill of victory…”
“And the agony of defeat.” The phrase had come from the introduction to the old ABC sports show called Wide World of Sports, the voice overlay of a downhill skier crashing down the mountain. Bert’s laugh mad
e me suddenly feel warm all over. I was glad she wasn’t looking at me because my face was probably flushed as well.
“You took the words right out of my mouth,” she commented.
The image of Bert’s mouth, better yet, something of mine in Bert’s mouth, overheated parts of my body farther south, and I squirmed.
“Come on.” Bert took my elbow lightly, then lifted me out of the chair and toward the door. “I’ll walk you back.”
“I can find my way.”
“Too bad. We’re taking a break,” she said, dropping her hand to the small of my back to propel me out the door and down the five steps.
I opened my mouth to refuse.
“Shut up.”
I felt Bert’s eyes on me as we maneuvered the narrow halls and descended another set of stairs. When we got to the door to her cabin Bert reached around me to open the door. The area was small and Bert’s breast grazed my arm. I’m not sure, but I thought she froze for a split second before opening the door. My heart was pounding so loud she had to have heard it echo off the metal walls surrounding us. I hissed as my nipples hardened.
Bert jumped back. “I’m sorry. Did I hurt you?” she asked, looking at me from head to toe and lingering on my nipples obvious through the T-shirt.
“No, of course not,” I lied. “Just a twinge under my arm.”
She opened the door farther and I stepped inside. If I didn’t know any better, I would have thought she pushed me inside. She didn’t follow.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Alissa
The gentle rocking of the waves was a familiar friend versus a potential enemy, and I napped off and on that afternoon. Maybe it was because it was overcast, or maybe because I was in a familiar, safe place. I really didn’t care why. I just knew I was finally starting to feel halfway decent as I followed my nose to the galley.
The table was set, and Lefty seemed completely at home in front of the stove as he stirred the contents of one pot while opening the oven door with the other hand.
“Can I help?” I asked, more out of politeness than anything else. I hoped he’d say no because I didn’t know my way around a kitchen other than to grab a beer from the fridge and dump the last few Lucky Charms down the drain.
“Push that,” he said, pointing to a button on the wall to my left.
I did as I was told and the button lit up under my finger. Nothing else happened. I looked at him for affirmation that I had done it correctly.
“The dinner bell,” Lefty said, pouring the contents of the pot into a large plastic serving bowl. He pushed the rolls fresh out of the oven off the cookie sheet, and they tumbled over each other into a basket lined with a pristine white cloth. He covered them and handed me the basket. I was smart enough to know what to do with it.
“Grab a serving spoon from that drawer.” He pointed to the one next to my right hip. “It goes in here,” he said as he set the bowl in the center of the table. He started cutting thick slices of meat on a large platter, arranging them neatly.
The sound of footsteps pounding down the stairs behind me signaled the crew had arrived. One by one they filed in wearing clean shirts and smelling like Lava soap.
“You look rested,” Bert commented, passing me the basket of rolls.
Several eyes checked me out, and then just as quickly, the men returned to dishing up their plates.
“I’ll live,” I replied honestly. “I should be ready to help in a few days.” This time every eye was on me, and several forks of food stopped midway to open mouths.
“What?” I said, glancing around for some sign of what I’d obviously just stepped into, so to speak. “You don’t expect me to sit here and do nothing for the next month,” I said, more calm than I felt. If I had to, I’d go bonkers and maybe jump overboard again.
“I wouldn’t put it that way,” Bert said carefully.
“How would you put it?” My defensiveness started to build.
“Everyone on the Dream has a job and is fully trained in that position. We work well together, to the point that we know what everyone else is going to do before they do it.”
“And?” I asked confidently.
“This is extremely hard work, not to mention dangerous,” she added.
“Have you forgotten I was on a thirty-nine-foot double-mast sailboat?”
Bert looked at me silently, but I could hear the words in her head: “And look where that got you.”
“I’m not a stranger to hard work.”
“This is physical—”
“I can bench press two-oh-five, curl seventy, and leg-press three hundred pounds. My grip is strong, and I don’t hurl my breakfast in a large swell.” My voice was firm with conviction. No way was I going to let Bert think I was a lightweight. The crew had continued eating but were obviously waiting for Bert’s return volley.
“I can’t have a greenhorn on deck. It’s too dangerous.”
“Hook, did you learn on the Dream?”
“No, ma’am,” he answered.
“Flick?”
“No.”
I asked each man in turn, and my heart sank as each replied the same way. Until Limpet.
“Yes, ma’am. Captain Bert gave me a chance, and I promised to never let her down.”
I raised my eyebrows and looked at Bert. “What’s your next argument? You said it yourself. You’ve had women on the crew before. I’m different. I can do it.”
Bert looked at me, and I wished I could read her mind. She glanced down at the table, and I cut her off before she went down the path I saw her headed.
“Don’t even think about making me chief cook and bottle washer. If I don’t kill your crew from food poisoning, they’ll mutiny before the second day. I don’t cook,” I said, and saw Lefty stifle a grin from across the table. The men kept eating, but it was clear they were waiting for Bert’s answer. “I’ve been on the water most of my life. I know what I’m doing.”
“Not with this, you don’t.”
I didn’t say anything, preferring to wait her out. I sat back and looked at her, my toughest I-can-do-this look on my face.
“Don’t make me regret this,” Bert said, her face grim. “You’ll do exactly what you’re told, exactly when you’re told. No questions, no hesitation. You’ll wear a lifejacket at all times on deck, and you won’t go near the nets.”
My heart skipped and jumped like it did when I was a little girl and got to go on a new adventure. I tried to remain serious, but a smile forced its way onto my face.
“Thank you,” I replied sincerely. “You won’t be sorry.”
“I’d better not be,” she said. “Okay, this conversation is over. You can all stop pretending you’re not listening.” Bert shook her head, but a smile peeked out of her stern face.
Conversation picked up, and it reminded me of one of the dinner scenes in a Tyler Perry movie. Several different conversations were going at once, and even though I’d known these people for less than three days, surprisingly I felt completely at home.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Bert
What in the hell was I thinking? Alissa no more belonged on the deck of the Dream than I did making a pitch to her top client. This was the last catch of the season, and if we didn’t do well, the year would be a bust. Our previous trips hadn’t netted more than a minimal catch, and with the cost of gas, maintenance, and payroll, I’d barely broken even. I didn’t have time to keep an eye on Alissa, and I certainly didn’t have anyone else to teach her. I could give her to Rock, but he had his own job to do. Same with the other guys. So I guess by default or design, Alissa was mine.
I passed the bowl of mashed potatoes, and our fingers touched when she took it from me. A jolt of electricity shot up my arm, took a sharp left, and headed south, stopping between my legs. I forced myself not to look at her but to focus on the conversation to my right. Hook was saying something about the nets when Alissa laughed. The electricity between my legs amped up, and this time I had to force myself not to
moan. I shifted in my chair, which didn’t help at all. Shit, it was going to be a long night. I realized that conversation around me had stopped and everyone was looking at me. Obviously someone had asked me a question.
“What?” I asked, feeling like an idiot.
“Is the Dream going into dry dock?” Hook asked.
“Yes, she’s due a complete overhaul.” I hoped my answer sounded like I knew what I was talking about. I did, but when I looked at Alissa, the throbbing in my crotch pushed out any remaining coherent thoughts in my head.
“What does that entail?” Alissa asked.
Thankfully Rock jumped in and answered the question, drawing her penetrating eyes away from mine.
I finished my dinner, relieved that no other questions were directed my way. Alissa held everyone’s attention, including mine, as she asked and answered questions. I couldn’t help glancing over at her more than a dozen times, enthralled when her face lit up as she talked about sailing, her voice becoming animated when she told a funny story. I knew I was in serious trouble when I realized the way she held her fork fascinated me.
I left the table as soon as possible, using the excuse of going to the bridge. No one seemed to notice. I sent Rock to the galley, checked the status of the gauges on the dash, adjusted a few knobs, and settled back in my chair. There was a half moon tonight, and the stars twinkled against the clear, dark sky.
I took a few deep breaths and a familiar calmness floated over me. This is where I was meant to be. This is where I called home. Sure, I had a place I referred to as home, which was really just a technicality. This place, this spot, this view, this peaceful, calm, almost serene feeling…I often thought that when I died I wanted to be right here. I’ve never been able to find the words to adequately describe just how right this place is. The phrase mere words can’t describe how I feel was corny but one hundred percent true.
“You look like you were made for this.”
I was so deep in my introspection that Alissa’s voice startled me.
“Mind if I join you?” she asked from the doorway.
My crew knew this was my sacred time. They knew not to disturb me unless it was an emergency.
