Undertow

by Jen Greyson

  Safe.

  I scanned the bookshelf and passed over the presidential biographies, the flower arrangement how-tos, and the military mysteries. Along a bottom shelf on the far side of the room, I found a shelf of romances. I sat cross-legged on the carpet and trailed my finger across the titles. I hadn’t read one since starting law school—there just hadn’t been time for pleasure-reading. Behind the first row of paperbacks, I found Karen Marie Moning’s Faefever series and plucked five well-read, dog-eared volumes and settled into the deep corner of the couch facing the dark windows. The sea and sky melded together as midnight blue velvet and I almost looked forward to watching it change with the sunrise. A fluffy throw lay across the back of the couch, and I draped it over my feet and settled in. Moning’s monsters and beasts were preferable to the ones who’d tried to destroy my world. And okay, I needed some reminding that chicks were insanely strong and capable.

  The story drew me in as the night sky faded into morning. Beyond my seclusion, the ship came to life. As the sun slid above the twinkling sea, I finished my book and stretched. Lost in the story, I’d managed to bury my anxieties, and hopefully that had been a one-time freakout. Not that Mateo would be eager to spend any more time with a crazy girl.

  I stood and walked to the windows. If I’d gotten what I wanted and he was going to stop bugging me, what was with the gaping hole in my chest? Two stories below on the bow deck, the crew set a breakfast table. I’d have time while I ate to sort through my emotions. My fingers roamed the glass and my flannel cuff flopped over my wrist. No chance Stuart would let me go to breakfast in this. Kat would probably show up in her pajamas, but I had a feeling I’d been more covered in my revealing blue dress. Kat struck me as a naked sleeper—especially when she had something to prove.

  I pressed my forehead against the cool glass. So far, I’d screwed up this entire thing. I’d spent zero time with Kat alone, my emotional state around Mateo was all over, and nowhere near the non-existent state I wanted them to be. And I still had five other girls to consider.

  I banged my head once against the glass, and the activity below ceased. Before the staff looked up, I raced to my room.

  After a quick change into shorts, I reappeared on the deck, savoring the smell of bacon and a soft ocean breeze. This morning’s music selection wafted across the space—a little Black Dog from Zep. I closed my eyes as Jimmy wailed out the notes. Each note infused me with the courage I’d need today.

  I popped a peace sign, sure Stuart was in my face with one of the cameras. A huge selection of fruit, eggs, and breakfast meats stretched across a long table, making my stomach rumble. Again, I was the first one up, but hopefully a few of the girls would resurface at some point. They’d probably eaten with Mateo last night while I’d cried myself to sleep. I bit a crispy piece of bacon and added two more to my plate. A surge of emotion fluttered in my stomach but I clenched my jaw and battled it down. I didn’t want to be an emotional mess today.

  Or ever.

  A heaping pile of scrambled eggs, half a waffle, and six huge strawberries later, I carried my plate to the table by the railing. Back to the water, I sat and dug in. As I polished off my waffle, Mandy stumbled onto the deck. She looked like ass.

  Pale and unsteady, she lurched toward the buffet, then jerked and angled away from the eggs. She grimaced and eased one piece of dry toast onto a plate and poured a mug of coffee. Without comment, she dropped into the chair across from me.

  I fought a grin and bit the end of a strawberry. “Morning.”

  She lifted her hand in a half wave and nibbled the edge of her toast.

  “Seasick or did you guys drink again last night?”

  She turned green and lifted one finger.

  I made a pointed scan of the flat sea behind us. She was in for a rough go if we hit any weather.

  I looked left and right, then leaned forward conspiratorially. “You know they’re taping this whole thing on a boat, right?”

  She gave me a weak smile. “Big difference between boating on my little lake at home and the entire ocean.”

  That was probably true, but still. “You don’t have any issues at home?”

  “Only when I try to read, or dig in the cooler... or can’t see the horizon.”

  I stuffed my mouth to bury the retort. And she’d seemed like the smart one... I swallowed. I liked Mandy, but her situation was kind of funny. “Is it going to get better?”

  She sipped her coffee and leaned back. “The doc gave me some stuff, it just takes a minute to kick in. Mornings are going to suck.”

  “Why’d you get up so early?”

  “We’re going diving.”

  My eyebrows shot up. “Is that a good idea?”

  She took another bite of toast. “I just need an hour, then I’ll be fine.”

  The green tint on her cheeks had shifted to a light pink—not quite normal, but better. If she thought she was up to being underwater in a bobbing current, more power to her. And hopefully I’d have the entire boat to myself. “Who else is going?”

  She finished her toast and wiped her hands on a napkin. “Basically everyone but Mateo. I assumed you were too.”

  I shuddered. “No thanks. I tried it once. Not for me. Why not Mateo?”

  A waiter set a plate stacked with toast between us. Mandy eyed it warily and cradled her coffee cup. “I guess he’s a great diver, so we’re getting a crash course. One of the dates must be a private dive.”

  I groaned inwardly. How super-not sexy... sucking on an air tube while dodging the floating snot balls in the mask. Thank goodness diving held no appeal. I straightened. “Wait. Mateo’s not diving?”

  Mandy slipped the top piece off and broke it in half while she shook her head. “Nope.”

  I fought the urge to squeeze my eyes shut and finger my necklace, but it was still in my soapdish. Mandy studied me, measuring my every movement and reaction. My guts clenched at the thought of being alone with him again, but I couldn’t reveal a thing. Not with so much turmoil at the surface. I needed a deflection, and fast. I drizzled syrup over my remaining waffle. “What gives?”

  She cocked her head, intense brown eyes daring me to ask—and also promising a few in return. “I don’t follow.”

  Oh yes she did, but if I took us down this road, what would it cost me in return? Of the women who would be able to read beyond what I said—or better yet, what I didn’t—Mandy could make me squirm.

  And answer.

  My pulse raced and my fork slipped in my sweaty palms. She leaned back and smiled cautiously, asking me to trust her. I wasn’t ready for that yet, but she made me curious. Time would tell if I’d been wrong about her. “You don’t seem like the kind of girl who needs a reality show to get a guy.”

  Mandy set the toast on the napkin in front of her and smoothed the table cloth. She cleared her throat and stared across the ocean. “I didn’t think so either.” She shrugged. “But we all have crossroads...” Brown eyes swung to mine. “Don’t we?”

  I flinched.

  She backed off and bit into her toast. “Life isn’t fairytales. I had a bunch of accrued vacation time I needed to burn, Mateo seems kind. And he’s certainly not horrible to look at. I’m tired of being alone, you know?”

  I didn’t. But I certainly understood that there were plenty of people who preferred companionship.

  “I’m burned out on blind dates, and online dating, and meeting guys at the gym. At least with Mateo, there’s no subterfuge. He seems genuine.”

  I’d been prepared for them to come to that conclusion, so it was easy not to react. Mateo was a fool for thinking he’d be able to regain their trust once everyone found out he’d been lying about his money and status. And it would happen.

  It always did.

  I couldn’t add much to the conversation, so I finished my eggs while she polished off the plate of toast and a piece of pineapple.

  Mandy’s calm eventually soaked in, diluting my turmoil and we ate in a companionable
silence. No one else showed.

  I dabbed my lips. “I better go see Stuart before you guys ship out.”

  “I should change and wake the girls so they get some food.” She stood.

  We faced each other for a long minute. Under different circumstances, we might have been—if not friends, at least someone to grab coffee with.

  “We’ll see you at lunch.”

  I nodded and left.

  CHAPTER

  THREE CONTRACTS, SEVENTEEN emails, and half a pot of coffee later, I tossed my pen on the desk. As I stretched, my muscles tingled with an excitement. Being useful was something I’d always craved, and though I was loathe to do it, I might have to thank Stuart.

  I needed to go find him anyway and see what he needed me to do for the show. When we struck the deal he’d mentioned something about watching the tapes and listening to the jewelry recordings. My stomach lurched. The deeper we got into the show, the more private those conversations were going to get.

  And racier.

  I wasn’t sure I could handle listening to a couple make out, let alone people I knew.

  When my stomach boiled over, I refused to admit it was anything more than hunger.

  Stuart wasn’t in his office, or the aft deck, or the library. I headed toward the bow, assuming we’d have lunch in the same spot as breakfast. Stuart nearly ran me over on the stairs.

  His fingers wrapped around my shoulders to keep me from tumbling backward, and adrenalin spiked through my limbs. I took three huge breaths and tightened my grip on the railing. I focused on Stuart’s worry lines and forced my heart to calm. “I came to get the jewelry tapes.”

  He jerked and cracked his knuckles. “You haven’t yet?”

  I frowned at the agitation in his voice. I guess I should have worked on his stuff first, but listening to five women fall over themselves to impress Mateo held zero appeal over reading contracts. “I didn’t think there was anything on them you didn’t know.”

  “No, but you do.” He sighed. “I gave you space last night because you seemed more than rattled, but you need to know what happened at dinner. I actually thought your curiosity... Never mind.”

  I narrowed my eyes. Was he playing games? Mandy hadn’t acted strange this morning... but now that I thought about it, I guess I should have wondered why neither Mateo nor any of the girls had made an appearance. “What happened?”

  He checked his watch. “The girls are eating lunch on the dive boat. You need to go eat with Mateo—“

  “No.”

  “Eat with Mateo,” he drew the words out, making sure I understood that one wasn’t negotiable. I crossed my arms and glared while he finished. “Then watch the tapes before we make landfall.”

  I had no one to blame but myself. I’d made the deal with him, and the elation of spending an entire day in my office reminded me that I owed him. “Fine. Lunch and the tapes. What am I looking for?”

  He trotted down the steps. “You’ll see.”

  I took a breath and leaned my head against the wall. My insides quivered like Jell-O on a rollercoaster. I didn’t figure on seeing Mateo alone again. After my freak out I figured he’d avoid me—and so far, he had. Leave it to Stuart to jack up my day. I stared at the remaining steps. Maybe I could stall...

  “Hey.” Mateo’s face appeared around the corner. He held a loaded plate in one hand and a beer in the other. Both made my mouth water. His gray plaid shorts and loose blue shirt unbuttoned and open at the neck had nothing to do with my salivating.

  My fingers tightened on the railing and smiled. “Hi.”

  He hesitated and checked me out from my tight bun to my flip flops. I curled my free hand tight against my thigh. Not a single morsel of fear surfaced. My pulse quickened, and I couldn’t gather a breath past my ribs.

  As he stepped away, I loosened my fingers and followed. Grilled salmon, burgers, and platters of vegetables sprawled across the table. I grabbed a plate and cut a hunk of salmon, then married it with asparagus and toasted red peppers. I lifted my head and scouted a place to sit. Gone was the usual table and six chairs. Guess design was tired of putting up amazing settings for the two of us.

  Mateo hooked his foot through the leg of a chair and drug it to the edge of the deck, then angled a small table beside it. While I debated, the sun warmed my face and I shivered after being in the meat locker of an office.

  I angled my foot inside a nearby chair and waited for him to say something. He took a pull of his beer and stared across the waves. This was what I wanted—an impersonal coolness—so why did my belly ache? He’d given me space today, hadn’t pushed my barriers, hadn’t asked for explanations. The next step in our bizarre relationship was up to me. He was giving me the choice.

  “Is this seat taken?”

  Mateo’s head twisted and his burger paused at his open mouth.

  I gave him a tentative smile, hoping he wouldn’t read too much into this. I wasn’t asking for a date, just a place to sit.

  He tossed his burger down, bounded over, and grasped the chair’s arms. I jumped out of the way and bobbled my plate. Once he’d settled my chair beside his with the table between us, I followed.

  I settled into the seat and balanced my plate on my knees. He took another long drink of beer and watched me from the corner of his eye. Tension rolled off him and I needed to put him at ease or this was going to be another disaster. And for some reason I didn’t want that. “Your leprosy is showing.”

  He laughed and choked on his beer. “I was just thinking the same thing.” He wiped his napkin across the back of his hand and bit into his burger.

  “How’d last night go?”

  He held up a finger and swallowed while he watched me, then he traded his burger for his beer and leaned back. “It’s an interesting group.” He took a drink, eyes never leaving mine. My fork grew heavy in my hand and I didn’t want to draw any more attention by taking a bite. He rested the bottle on the arm and twirled it slowly between his fingers. “But you knew that.”

  My eyes flickered as I searched for cameras. I hadn’t thought to look for them at breakfast. Mateo’s tone eased my tension and I didn’t want a million viewers watching us, judging our words. I wanted to hear what he thought of the girls—especially Kat.

  But was it too early for the audience to hear his impressions? Everyone made snap judgments—within the first seconds—and the viewers had made theirs as well. If Mateo’s didn’t match, I had to assume it would impact ratings. Even someone as reality show clueless as me could figure that out.

  One camera winked from above the door, but I couldn’t see any others.

  “Stuart said he wouldn’t start rolling until the girls got back.”

  “And you believe him?”

  He shrugged. “Not much choice.”

  I wrinkled my nose.

  “My answers don’t change if the cameras are off.”

  I plucked an asparagus off the pile and quirked an eyebrow. “Unless they ask about your business?”

  Part of the show’s appeal was that viewers would know Mateo’s secret. We could talk about anything and Stuart would have an excuse to use the footage.

  His gaze jerked off my lips long enough for me to eat. He scowled and picked at the bottle’s label. “How different do you think they’d behave if they knew what I was worth?”

  I swallowed and rolled my eyes. “It’s not possible for them to fawn over you more.”

  The square side of his mouth lifted and I studied his unbalanced mouth. That side must be the serious-stuff side. He sure was playing it up for the audience with his multiple personalities of the sleazy douchebag, suave gentlemen, and now the reserved loner.

  None of which were the carefree car aficionado I’d been intrigued with—and crushed by.

  While he mulled over my comment, I forked a helping of flaky fish. My mouth watered. Being on the ocean must seriously do things to my appetite. Turning slightly, I took a bite and savored the rosemary and garlic rolling over my tas
te buds. God, the food was amazing.

  Bits of paper from his bottle fluttered off the deck and out to sea, tiny sailboats of Mateo’s anguish. “They are a little aggressive. Especially Kat.”

  Here we go. I set my plate down, settled back in my chair, and crossed my legs, attempting nonchalance. My belly grumbled about my uneaten lunch, but I didn’t want to sway him off this track. Eve if I wasn’t interested in him—and I wasn’t—I still wanted to know why. “You’re rich, good looking, and successful... why resort to this?”

  He took a sip and watched several cycles of waves pass beneath us, then he swiveled his chair so he faced me. Our knees touched.

  I jerked. A full-on frontal assault left me nowhere to hide, and it took the table out of play as a barrier. I might as well have been naked. I took a breath and finished my beer. This took cozy to a whole new level.

  I didn’t do cozy.

  Oblivious to my distress, he waved a waiter over with more beer. At least he’d noticed something.

  “You already know I travel a lot. Now that I own the shipping company, I need to bring my personal life alongside my business side. I don’t have time for dating.”

  “Or you don’t want to.”

  He shrugged. “Or we just differ on what constitutes a date. I think taking a woman to a black-tie event counts.”

  I sighed. Most women probably did too—including the ones on this boat.

  “But not an auction?”

  A loud laugh knocked our knees together and the hair on his legs tickled my skin, shooting tingles down my calves. I squirmed away. He’d never brought one in the years I’d seen him. In that arena he was playful, smart, well-loved—and very alone.

  “You’re about the only woman on the planet who would find that interesting and wouldn’t make me pay for days.”

  My cheeks warmed. “Other women go.” The weakness of my retort hung limply in the salty air.

  “Ha! Ernie’s wife is about it.”

  The warmth of my blush crept outward, consuming my entire face. Ernie’s wife was about a million years old, and she was crass and obnoxious like most of the men there. Some days I didn’t consider her female.