Sailing at Sunset
Page 3
Thanks to a combination of being overly tired, simply tapping the address his sister Jane had sent him, and the restaurant’s recent name change, Josh hadn’t realized they were eating at Midtown Fish and Oyster Bar until his GPS led him to it. His stomach sank, bad memories creeping in.
Since he kept his personal business to himself, of course Jane and Nathan would only think of the restaurant that had been renamed Jax’s Fish and Oyster Bar as one of their past hangouts, one they hadn’t visited in a while. Josh, on the other hand, thought of it as the place where things with his ex-wife had begun unravelling.
It had been their five-year anniversary, and Olivia had requested they celebrate with a romantic dinner at the same place Josh had taken her on their first date. She’d also been pushing hard for a five-year plan that included a housing upgrade and a baby.
To be fair, back then, Josh thought he’d wanted those things as well. A bigger house near the beach where they could raise a kid or two. Thinking he’d be able to surprise her with good news, he’d stayed at the office after hours to close a huge deal.
While he’d warned Olivia via text, he’d underestimated how late he would be. It seemed she’d sat there the entire forty-five minutes, seething and refusing to order food, just so she could reprimand him for his tardiness in front of a room full of people.
In hindsight, he should’ve sent another text or made a quick call. Or at the very least, done a better, more sincere job of apologizing, something he’d never been much good at.
After that, every tiny thing became an issue. Their future, their goals, their desires. How quickly they wanted those things. Money sat at the top of the list of items they argued about, so Josh would work harder, only to hear complaints that he was never home and didn’t spend enough time with her.
It hadn’t all been Olivia, though. The stress at work and constant pressure to earn more and advance through the ranks left him frazzled. Josh would come home short-tempered and snap at her.
That was the year he’d learned some things came at too great a cost.
They’d never made it to their six-year anniversary. Instead, he and Olivia had sat across from each other and divvied out their belongings like two rival teams determined to win, instead of two people who used to care deeply for each other.
Expelling a breath, Josh climbed out of his truck and fiddled with the collar of the button-down shirt he probably should’ve ironed.
The hostess greeted him with a wide, ultra-white smile. He mentioned meeting his sister and her husband, and she led him to where Jane and Nathan sat, a bottle of wine already uncorked. A loaf of crusty bread sat on a cutting board in the middle of the table. Josh’s stomach growled.
“Nathan.” He tipped his chin at his brother-in-law and then gave his sister a hug. “Hey, Janie. Good to see you.”
She embraced him extra tightly, conveying that she’d missed him as much as he’d missed her. Despite the fact that she was a decade younger than he was, they’d been close growing up. From the moment she’d shown up, he’d considered her his responsibility. Overprotective would be an understatement.
While Josh had practically interrogated Nathan at the onset of their relationship, the guy had been a good sport, not only winning him over but becoming a close friend. Best of all, Josh knew the guy would take care of his little sister, which eased his worries as he sailed off into the great wide open.
The charcuterie board in front of Jane held a couple of sweet pickles, and he popped one in his mouth as he settled in his chair. How nice of Jane to save them, knowing they were his favorite. He savored it and then opened the menu. “You guys already order your entrees?”
“Just the bread and the board,” Jane said. “I was famished and figured you’d be extra hungry after a week at sea.”
“Mmm,” he mumbled, debating which cut of steak to order, and he might as well surf-and-turf it and add shrimp. Even though there were plenty of fine restaurants along his chartered tour stops, he often spent dinnertime alone in his cabin. Because he lived cheaply most of the time, he could indulge here and there. It was a good system.
Once the waiter arrived, they placed their orders, and then Josh turned his attention to Nathan and Jane. “So, what’s new?”
“Funny you should ask.” Jane’s hand moved to her stomach. While her belly didn’t appear any bigger, the protective move spoke volumes.
“Say it,” Josh said.
“Sounds like you already know.”
“I have a rule about not asking women if they’re pregnant. I’m not going to risk offending you, of all people.”
Jane giggled. “You realize you already implied it, though, right?” Her smile widened, and happiness wafted off her in waves. “But yes, I’m pregnant.” She slipped her hand in the crook of Nathan’s elbow and rested her head on his shoulder. “We’re having a baby.”
“Wow. That’s…” A thrill fired through Josh as he imagined showing his niece or nephew the ropes on the sailboat. Teaching him or her how to sail and fish. It’d be healthy for Jane to leave her cares behind for a while and get out the water with him, too. “I’m so happy for you guys. Congrats.”
Their food arrived, and as they ate, they discussed her early-winter due date and how Mom and Dad had taken the news. No surprise—they were ecstatic. It lifted a weight off Josh’s shoulders he hadn’t even registered had been there till now. Mom had been so disappointed it hadn’t worked out with Olivia, especially since the chance of grandchildren had been dangled in front of her before being snatched away.
“What about you?” Jane asked. “It’s not too late for you to settle down, you know. Nathan has a colleague who we think would be perfect for you. She’s pretty and smart, and I really like her.”
Josh stretched his arm across the table, careful to avoid tipping glasses or dipping his sleeve in his food. “Jane, as I’ve told you, that ship has sailed. I’m already in love.”
She stuck her lips out in a pout. “With sailing? Really?”
He bit back his smug grin so she wouldn’t punch him—he’d taught her to throw her weight behind her swing, and she had a killer jab. “Yes. With sailing, freedom, the ocean, and Solitude. That’s all I need.”
While he appreciated her and Nate’s attempts to keep him from becoming a hermit, he rather enjoyed being a bachelor. He only had to leave Solitude when he felt like it, which usually ended up being to see his family, hit the market, or walk around the marina and make small talk with his ragtag group of friends, most of whom were retirement age.
With a sigh, Jane let go of the matchmaking subject. They finished dinner, and he slipped the waiter his credit card before the couple across from him could.
As they walked outside, Josh congratulated them again on the baby. Then he headed home, his thoughts on his swaying house, comfy bed, and cool pillow.
Except when he arrived at the marina, there was a party going on. Come to think of it, he’d seen a flyer.
“Josh!” Tinsley ran up to him. She was in her mid-twenties, owned her own jewelry line, and had rented a slip near the marina entrance a couple of months ago. Her boat was decked out with “fairy lights,” which meant tiny and blinky, and she could turn a one-syllable word into five. She also referred to boat living as “glamping.”
Once the weather turned cold, he’d be shocked if Tinsley stayed, but for now, she’d taken to throwing community “mixers.” Not parties. Those were for old people, apparently.
“You never RSVPd,” Tinsley said, the beaded bracelets on her wrist rattling as she gesticulated. “So I didn’t think you’d be coming. But don’t worry. I always plan for extra guests.”
“Ah, thanks, Tinsley, but I’m only passing through. Got a job early tomorrow I need to rest up for. I thought I’d just swing by George and Nancy’s, and then—”
“Oh, didn’t you hear?” Tinsley twisted a blond strand o
f hair round and round her finger.
Josh’s lungs deflated as her question hung in the air. One of the downsides of his closest friends being in their early seventies was worrying about their health.
“They sailed down south for their granddaughter’s sweet sixteenth birthday party.” Tinsley’s mouth formed an excited O and her hands went to swinging again, punctuating her words. “She’s totally having a big party on the boat with all of her friends. Can you imagine how grumpy George is gonna be on a boat full of teenagers?”
Tinsley’s laugh echoed through the cool night air, and Josh found himself chuckling along. George was a bit of a curmudgeon. It was one of Josh’s favorite things about him.
A guy with dark hair walked up behind Tinsley and slid his arms around her middle. Before now, Josh had never seen the man bun in action. He supposed it fit the guy, if that was a thing that could be said about buns and dudes.
“Josh, meet my boyfriend, Sergio. Sergio, Josh.”
Well, Nancy would be sad to hear that Tinsley was off the market. She’d been not-so-subtly hinting how cute Tinsley was, while Josh straightforwardly informed the woman that Tinsley was way too young for him, even if he had been searching for a girlfriend.
Josh shook Sergio’s hand and muttered a “Nice to meet you.” Sergio suggested hitting the dance floor, extending a pity invite his way, and Josh immediately felt like a senior citizen. His dancing days had been short-lived and coerced, to say the least. The idea of dating and dancing…it all exhausted him.
“That’s okay,” Josh said. “You two go on ahead.”
“Sure you won’t stay?” Tinsley asked as Sergio tugged her toward the steady beat of an unrecognizable song. “I made kale kombucha smoothies that’ll power you up for your trip tomorrow.”
Josh dodged the smoothie question and wished her goodbye. As quick as his feet could take his forty-year-old body, he headed away from the buzz of the party toward the blissfully quiet section of the marina. He paused at George and Nancy’s empty slip, finding himself surprisingly sad at the idea of not sharing his usual trip recap. He reached into his pocket and fiddled with the barnacle-covered seashell he’d picked up for Nancy’s collection.
Then he continued on, each thump of his soles against the wooden walkway loud in the quiet. The silence only intensified as he boarded Solitude and headed downstairs, into the cabin.
There were his bed and his pillow, and everything else he’d longed to get home to. Suddenly it didn’t feel like the respite he’d been dreaming of.
He lowered himself onto the foot of the bed and kicked off his shoes. After shedding his jeans in favor of comfy shorts, he lifted his cell phone. The email that had refused to load earlier finally finished downloading, and Josh tapped the “Final FINAL Itinerary.”
Most of the fun bonding activities had been replaced with strategy meetings and brainstorming sessions. What the difference was between those two, Josh had no idea. As he skimmed through the list, he envisioned an older woman with perpetually pursed lips and a buttoned-up cardigan.
What was the point of chartering a trip to sit in the ship and do exactly what they did in the office? During Josh’s stint as a financial advisor, he’d been far too familiar with that type of work, work, work environment, with its suffocating cloud of tension and stress. If anything, he owed it to the people Danae worked with to resist at least a few of her changes.
Josh shook his head and tossed his phone aside. He could argue with Danae Danvers tomorrow. If he’d known he’d be dealing with her instead of the easygoing man who’d originally called and booked the trip, he might’ve refused.
Too late now.
As he sat in bed, contemplating TV versus sleep, a part of him missed the Riveras and their happy chatter. His nostalgia kicked into high gear as he recalled the years when he and Jane had bonded over wizard books. Those days when she used to show up at his house during her college years to ask for advice on classes, her major, and boys.
Now she was living her own, grownup life.
His sister was having a baby, Nancy and George had their family, and he had…well, he had his solitude.
The thing he swore he wanted. He didn’t want to be one of those people who finally achieved their dreams, only to find themselves unsatisfied. But as he climbed into bed, loneliness wrapped around him, heavier than his blanket.
If only coupledom didn’t come with so many complications…
Even as his logical side balked at the notion, Josh couldn’t help thinking that once in a while, it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world to have someone to come home to.
Chapter Four
“Seriously? We’re half an hour away from pushing off for eight whole days, and still no response,” Danae muttered, and her Uber driver glanced at her in the rearview mirror.
“What was that?”
“Nothing. It’s just…” She gripped the headrest on the passenger seat and scooted forward as far as her belt would let her. “If someone texted or emailed you, you would take the time to answer, right?”
“Um, usually.”
“Exactly.” With a harrumph, Danae sat back and refreshed her email. No reply from Josh magically appeared, and her nerves stretched to the fraying point. She was already going to have her hands full with her team, and she didn’t need another person to manage.
Since he hadn’t bothered responding yet, she might as well make a few last tweaks. While she hated to mark up the papers she’d printed for everyone last night, she had a handy roll of correction tape in her purse. Thanks to all her practice in writing in tiny print in her planner, she doubted anyone would even notice they had been altered.
We can definitely squeeze in a think tank session as we cruise around the harbor. That sounded better than brainstorm, especially since the word “storm” wasn’t always welcome at sea.
Danae rolled correction tape over the hour reserved for learning the parts of the boat. If anyone hadn’t memorized the sailboat diagrams while working at the company, she could cover the basics in ten minutes. Then they could use the rest of the time to get a jumpstart on the campaign.
To cut down on complaints and make sure there was some fun time, she scheduled a twenty-minute break.
“Here, right?” the driver asked, and Danae glanced up, surprised to find herself at the marina already.
She thanked the driver, climbed out of the car, and immediately added a tip and a positive rating so she wouldn’t forget. She pushed her glasses up her nose and headed toward the beautiful Barton Boat in front of her. A Fortune 703 model, which was their biggest, most luxurious sailboat.
Perhaps she should’ve worn her contacts instead, since out on the water her lenses would likely be speckled in no time. But she disliked her contacts, and the wind might dry them out. Constantly wiping her glasses on her pink cardigan seemed like a better option than applying an entire bottle of eye drops a day. Besides, she’d seen the harbor before, so she’d stick to the middle of the boat and work while everyone else took their break.
Naturally, she was the first of her team to arrive. Possibly before their captain, as she didn’t see anyone else. Ooh, if Mr. Wheeler doesn’t show, does that mean we can go back to the office to do our work?
Since Danae had put so much effort into planning and re-planning the trip, she couldn’t decide if she’d be more frustrated or relieved.
As she climbed aboard the sailboat, nostalgia slammed into her, transporting her back in time a couple of decades. There was the familiar sway under her feet, the sound of flapping canvas and lapping waves, and the scent of saltwater and wood. She ran her hand along the railing, which wasn’t nicked or rusted in places, like it’d been on Dad’s boat.
Be careful near the edges, NaeNae, Dad used to warn, since she’d lean over the railing as far as she could to peer into the water. That was back when she was young and trusted thing
s to catch her, before she’d had enough life experience to realize there weren’t a whole lot of guarantees in this world.
Franco’s husband dropped him off at the dock, and when Justin unrolled the window to call out a greeting to Danae, their bulldog, Jack, and cairn terrier, Rose, blocked her view, yipping and barking.
Franco pushed his sunglasses on top of his dark hair and continued to wave goodbye to his family. It had cracked her up when she’d discovered the dogs the men had owned before getting together shared the name of the couple from Titanic. She had declared it was totally meant to be in the early days of their relationship, and while Mr. Web Developer had rolled his eyes, he hadn’t refuted it, either.
One by one, everyone else began showing up: Vanessa and her two chic matching suitcases, Mark and his leather duffel bag, and then Paige, who said a fifteen-minute goodbye to her fiancé before climbing aboard as well.
Finally, there he was, the one person she didn’t recognize. Danae gripped the handle of her compact roller suitcase and strolled over. “Josh Wheeler, I presume.”
Slowly, he spun around, and it shook the Etch A Sketch in Danae’s mind, erasing everything she’d planned to say. The early morning sun danced across strands of his disheveled hair, highlighting the copper streaks hidden in the brown.
A groove formed between his eyebrows as he studied her, and her throat went dry as she superimposed this guy’s image over the one she’d expected—an older, grizzled seafaring type who grumbled about “newfangled technology.”
So what if Josh Wheeler was mildly attractive—hold the mild? Or had eyes the same azure color as the water in the harbor behind him?
“Go ahead and get settled, and we’ll be pushing off shortly,” he said.
His voice jerked her back to herself, the words she’d intended to say slowly reforming in her brain. “Actually, I wanted to talk to you about the final schedule, and a couple of the last-minute changes I’ve made.”