Sailing at Sunset

by Cindi Madsen

  His mouth flattened into an ambiguous line. “You must be Danae. Sender of all the emails.”

  A prickling sensation swept across her skin, leaving her unsure how exactly to respond for a couple of seconds. Deciding professional was never the wrong way to go, she held that part of her façade firmly in place.

  “I am.” She hugged her planner and stack of itineraries to her chest and extended a hand. “Danae Danvers, Chief Marketing Officer. And you must be the guy who doesn’t reply to emails.”

  Okay, so she’d failed at remaining strictly businesslike there at the end.

  Josh didn’t make a move to shake her hand. Simply skimmed his hand over the boom and fiddled with the backstay. “I replied to most of them.”

  The frown couldn’t be helped, nor could the thread of exasperation. “Did you at least look over the final itinerary? I’ve made a few more tweaks—”

  “To the final final itinerary?” One corner of his mouth kicked up, emphasizing the unkempt scruff on his face and the dimple in the middle of his chin. “Do you know what final means?”

  “About as well as you know how to reply to emails,” she quipped. She plucked the top paper off her pile of copies and extended it to him. “Fortunately for you, I have extra copies. You’ll see that I’ve shortened the activity for learning the parts of the boat. Fifteen minutes is all we have time for.”

  The extra humidity made her glasses slip, and she readjusted them. “Oh, and when we pass by Ocean Cliff and the Jamestown house on the rock, can you get as close as possible to the coast? We’re selling luxury, and our social media manager wants to take several video shots. Once we finish up there, I’d like to arrive at the next port in plenty of time because we have a strategy session planned for this evening.”

  The paper crinkled as Josh took it from her. Instead of studying it, he folded it in half and half again, jammed it in his pocket, and said, “We’ll see.”

  Then he headed to the helm of the boat.

  Danae stared after him, mouth agape. She spun around and narrowly avoided colliding with her ex-boyfriend. “Oh. Hey, Mark. Sorry. Um…” She gestured him ahead of her. “If you’ll gather the troops, I’ll give everyone their cabin assignments so they can put away their stuff.”

  “I realize you got the promotion, but that doesn’t mean I report to you. Mr. Barton is still my boss.”

  Danae gritted her teeth in an approximation of a smile and focused on keeping her tone polite so she wouldn’t break any of his at-work rules. “Yes, I’m aware. What I meant to say was that I could use help gathering everyone so we can settle in and be ready to leave on time. Would you be willing to help me with that?”

  “Of course. I just want to be clear. Keeping our boundaries in place is going to be more important than ever on this trip.”

  “They’re already crystal clear. No need for a recap.”

  Great. Now she was going to have to spend eight days in a confined area with two men who didn’t want to listen to her.

  Josh welcomed everyone onboard, introduced himself, and covered the safety features, as well as what to do in an emergency.

  Toward the end of his spiel, his gaze snagged on Danae. While he’d been right about the cardigan, it was about the only feature he’d imagined correctly when it came to the Chief Marketing Officer. She had pale skin that suggested she didn’t get outside much, which was a shame when you lived near the beach. She was also younger than expected—he’d guess her to be in her mid-thirties. Prettier, too. Her dirty blond hair was pulled half up, and the breeze toyed with the long curls that hung around her shoulders.

  A smile tipped her lips as her attention drifted toward the horizon, her features calm for the first time since she’d climbed aboard. Was that a spark of adventure in her eyes? The same one he felt before sailing into the deep blue?

  Slowly, she looked back at him, and Josh lost track of whatever he’d been saying.

  “Is that it for the safety talk, then?” she asked, already lifting the planner in her hands—to check the item off her schedule, no doubt.

  Part of him wanted to find something to tease her about. Maybe point out that if she’d read the safety guide he’d sent upon booking, heels weren’t recommended. At least the brown ankle boots on her feet had a smaller, chunky heel, unlike some of the stilettoes other women had worn so they could endanger their lives every time they clacked around too close to the edge.

  But even in email form, the humor had been touch and go. Not to mention they had an audience, and what was he thinking? He had a job to do, and it didn’t include making jokes with one of the clients.

  “Not quite. One thing everyone should be aware of,” Josh said, drawling his words, “is that the ocean and the wind don’t care about schedules. No two trips are ever alike, regardless of how many times you’ve sailed the same course. Each time is different—that’s one of the beauties of sailing, and it’s better if you know beforehand that sometimes plans have to be rearranged.”

  Danae’s eyebrows drew together, the scrunch of them suggesting she didn’t like the idea, which was why he figured he’d better warn her sooner rather than later. Managing expectations at sea was important.

  After briefly pointing out the parts of the ship, he nodded in Danae’s direction. “Now, I believe your fearless leader has a whole list of items for you to get started on.”

  The preppy guy with the neat sandy hair and the button-down shirt lifted a finger in the air, not as if he were testing the direction of the breeze. More like he couldn’t be bothered to raise his whole hand. “While Danae is leading this particular project, she’s not our boss. Or leader, or whatever.”

  Josh wasn’t sure what to say to that.

  Franco and Danae shared a glance that spoke volumes without saying a word. Then Danae said, “Thank you, Mark. Now, let’s leave our captain to the sailing while we start our first meeting of the day, which I do happen to be in charge of.”

  Within twenty minutes they were clear of the more crowded part of the harbor. Josh studied the fluffy clouds overhead, noting the darkening undersides. Yesterday had been inordinately hot, and a cold front was predicted to roll in later this afternoon, although with the breeze, maybe they’d manage to miss any of its effects.

  The engine growled as Josh sped up, the sound softer and smoother than the grumbly motor on Solitude. He had to hand it to the Barton Boating Company—they made one beautiful sailboat. The Fortune 703 model cut through the water like a dream. It was bigger and shinier than what Josh was used to, with a wheel that moved easily, no grinding required.

  While Josh got the allure, this ship was a little too smart for its own good. Auto features were fine and well until they broke, and you didn’t have enough experience to get yourself out of trouble. Then again, it’d be a long while before any of the bells and whistles on this hunk of—

  Hmm. I suppose calling it a hunk of junk doesn’t fit. Occasionally he lovingly referred to Solitude as a hunk of junk. Particularly pre-remodel, when the term was painfully accurate.

  With the course set and the boat steady, Josh locked the wheel, and dug out the so-called final itinerary that Danae had given him. Oops, he’d already missed her second requested change, but with a few alterations, he could switch up which part of the harbor tour they would end on.

  With that done, he headed to check on the passengers. While the boat was twice the length of Solitude, he could still hear snippets of conversations as he moved around the first cabin. The Barton employees had split themselves between the two bench seats, and while Danae was facing the center of the boat, the others were straddling the bench or turning around to enjoy the view.

  Danae struggled to keep her team focused as they peered over the side of the boat and pointed at birds and the large suspension bridge that connected Newport to Jamestown. In the distance, several sailboats bobbed along, looking more like se
agulls than boats, especially when compared to the giant cement-and-wire structure they were sailing underneath.

  “…two hundred and fifteen feet of vertical clearance to accommodate the Navy’s largest ships,” Mark was telling Franco, who was the company’s tech geek. It was a factoid Josh shared himself when people wanted to know more. Perhaps with a crew of locals, today he could coast. Not that he was unwilling to play tour guide, but some clients preferred to take in the sights without his chatter, and he wanted to give people their best possible sailing experience. Bigger groups made that a bit trickier because of the varying personalities, likes, and dislikes.

  That was why a lot of his first day was spent sussing out his passengers.

  “Paige and Vanessa, do you have a list of social media contacts who can announce the launch of our new campaign as soon as it’s finalized?” Danae asked. “Really spread the word and drum up some good publicity?”

  The fair-skinned redhead kept her eyes fixed on the Rose Island Lighthouse. They’d see several lighthouses during the trip and had a tour of the one on Block Island scheduled for tomorrow, but the squat white one with its pale green shingles stood out. “I started to compile a list last night and will get it to you soon.”

  “I already have a spreadsheet ready to go,” said the woman with thick dark curls—Vanessa, that was it.

  While Paige hadn’t turned to address Danae, she gave Vanessa her full attention. “As head of publicity, I’ll need to see it first for approval.”

  “As social media manager, I’m always happy to add more contacts to my ever-growing list, so I’d love to combine our efforts and reach more places. Once you get your list ready, of course.”

  They shared a tight smile that made Josh want to back away, which was pretty much how he always felt nowadays when he encountered any kind of drama.

  Danae raised her voice and spoke in a placating tone. “It’s going to be more important than ever for us to all work together, so if you could both send those lists to each other and come up with a finalized version to send me, I’d appreciate it.”

  The light tapping of keys filled the air. “Done,” Vanessa said, and Paige lifted her open laptop and began furiously typing away.

  Ah, the bad ol’ days, when he’d had to play nice in conference rooms, even when it felt like he and his colleagues were competing rather than collaborating. What a waste of time. Although remembering how hard it could be to keep coworkers on task and happy made him think he should cut Danae, with her emails and constant itinerary alterations, some slack.

  A subject change might do everyone some good, so he switched into tour guide mode. “Coming up, you’ll see Fort Adams State Park.” He swept his hand toward the approaching peninsula and the gray brick fort that looked more like a castle without turrets. “Anyone been to the Newport Jazz Festival?”

  Paige, Franco, and Vanessa chimed in that they had, and Josh asked how they’d enjoyed it. The four of them began chatting and comparing who they’d seen, and Danae’s toe started tapping, her posture growing more anxious the longer the stories went on. Couldn’t she see that Vanessa and Paige were now talking about something they had in common, the earlier tension gone? Possibly not. But Josh had done several of these corporate retreats, using the skills he’d had to learn when he worked in the office world.

  “Okay, well, let’s talk about what prompted you to go to the festival,” Danae said. “Flyers? Social media posts? How can we tie that into our marketing strategy?”

  As they began discussing that, Josh returned to the helm, where he stayed until lunch.

  After they ate, he readied the boat so he could loop them around and get close to the famous mansions, as Danae had requested. Call it a peace offering. Although with the wind kicking up and more dark clouds rolling in, he wasn’t sure how long the sailing would be smooth.

  About thirty minutes later, the mansions were in view, although the sun no longer was. Josh walked across the deck, to where everyone lined the portside. The boat rocked more than it had earlier today, before the temperature began to drop, and a spray of water came over the side and made the passengers jump back.

  Strike that. Everyone but Danae—heedless of her doused shoes—scooted back.

  A green lawn led to a beige brick house with several chimneys and even more windows. The property owners kept the trees trimmed to allow those windows a view of the bay, which gave people who sailed by a peek at the luxurious life. Around the bend was an enormous neoclassical house with floor-to-ceiling windows, columns, and an atrium with a fountain. From their current position, it wasn’t easy to see, and the thick gray fog that had come rolling in certainly wasn’t helping matters.

  “This is as close as I can get,” Josh said, and Danae glanced at Vanessa.

  “Will this work for you?” she asked, automatically gripping the railing and shifting her weight to the back foot as the boat swayed again. Either she’d recalibrated in record time or she’d been on a boat a few times before.

  Vanessa lifted her phone and frowned at the screen. “It’s too hard to get a good shot through the fog. With my eyes, I can sorta see the pale brick, but once I lift the screen…” She made a disgruntled noise low in her throat. “The phone isn’t picking up any details through the fog, and if I zoom in, it’s just more convoluted.”

  “What about the three-story mansion with the red roof and all the cool archways? Ooh, and check out that beautiful balcony.” The glimmer of excitement Josh had seen in Danae’s eyes before they set sail reignited. “Suddenly I want to stand up there and shout, ‘Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art though, Romeo?’”

  “I tried that trick at a club once,” Vanessa said. “I don’t recommend it.” She and Danae laughed, while Josh did his best to remember his high school literature class.

  The sigh that came from Vanessa as she zoomed on the massive Vanderbilt mansion led him to believe that she still wasn’t getting what she wanted.

  Danae glanced at him, as if she expected him to help.

  Josh held up his hands. “Hey, I’m not in charge of the fog.”

  “Isn’t there anything we can do?” Danae asked. “Will it burn off?”

  While he’d cursed the weatherman’s inaccurate predictions before, Josh also knew better than to put himself in the guy’s shoes. “The one constant at sea is that nothing’s ever constant. But if you want my honest opinion, the sun will set before the fog clears in this area of the bay.”

  “Shoot. I guess I should’ve made the mansions the first stop, but it didn’t make sense to zigzag across the bay, only to have to sail back.” Danae moved closer to Vanessa and squinted at her phone screen. “Can you use any of the footage you’ve taken? Even if it’s just a teaser?”

  The woman played a few seconds of a video, swiped through the pictures she’d taken, and shook her head. “Not without it coming across as completely amateur, and I would never upload anything less than the best.” She tapped her lip and then her eyebrows shot up. “You know what we should do?”

  All eyes focused on Vanessa, but she didn’t immediately rattle off the answer, leading him to believe she enjoyed people hanging on her every word.

  Eventually, Franco asked, “What?”

  “Did you guys see those mini videos on Trendster?”

  “Trendster?” Danae asked, saving Josh the effort, although he reminded himself he was the silent partner on this ride, so to speak.

  “Oh my gosh, it’s the coolest app. Franco, you’ve heard of it, haven’t you? I figured you’d be up on all the happening events.”

  The guy blinked at her. “Maybe in my early twenties, but these days I’m an old married man who stays home with his husband, playing endless games of fetch with our babies.”

  “They have two dogs,” Danae surprised Josh by whispering. “In case you thought…” Her nose crinkled. “I mean, you probably figured it out, but someti
mes it makes me picture babies crawling after a stick, and that’d be super cute, but possibly not recommended, and…” She placed a hand over her face, which was slowly turning an adorable shade of pink. “I’m gonna stop now.”

  “Don’t stop on my account,” Josh said with a smile. “Especially since that was right where my mind went. Diapered babies with sticks in their mouth.”

  Her head tilted, as if she wasn’t sure whether or not he was joking. Either he’d been at the marina too long and had forgotten how to tell a joke, or Danae worked so hard she’d forgotten how to laugh at one.

  “It’s the hottest of the hottest, and it’s always changing,” Vanessa said. “People check in, and post these super short, hyper-aesthetic videos that show off the location. If you’re going to check out the place because of someone’s video, you tap the go button, and that user gets trend points.”

  Their brazen social media manager tapped her phone screen and then swiveled it toward her audience. “I’ve been trying to build up Barton Boating Company’s points, as well as my own. Everyone take out your phones and download it right now so you can follow me at Vibe With Vanessa. Trust me, it’s going to be huge in no time.”

  One by one, the passengers pulled out their phones and added the Trendster app, although a bit begrudgingly.

  “Click the link for the Castle Wines Vineyard. Isn’t it gorgeous?”

  Franco leaned in and watched the video with the rows of green leafy vines and clusters of people wandering around enjoying the scenery. At the end, the camera zoomed in on a group seated around a wooden table, laughing and chatting as they shared a bottle of wine. “I recognize that logo,” Franco said. “Justin loves that brand. I’ll have to pick some up for him.”

  People remarked on how beautiful the place was and how lovely the wine-tasting looked. “I bet they’ll agree to give us a tour in exchange for a boost on Trendster,” Vanessa said to Danae. “I can take lots of beautiful shots in the vineyard that will fit the lifestyle angle we’re going with for the campaign. That far inland, we won’t have to deal with the fog like out here.”