He nods, then looks back at me."Welcome aboard, Miss Rossi.”Pausing, his stormy blue eyes narrow.“It’d be an absolute pleasure if you could manage not to sink us before Saint-Tropez."
He disappears below deck, leaving me alone with Claire and the growing realization that this month is going to be a lot more complicated than I anticipated.
"Your quarters are just this way," Claire says cheerfully, seemingly oblivious to my disheveled state."Isla's very excited to see you again.”
As I follow her below deck, champagne still dripping from my blouse and jam still decorating my pants, I make a mental note…
The less I see of Roarke West, the better.
But after the look he cast me before leaving, something tells me that's going to be easier said than done.
3
BREAKFAST, WITH A SIDE OF TENSION
ROARKE
Three days into life with Mia Rossi, and I'm starting to understand why prisoners go insane in solitary confinement.
Not because they're alone.
But because they're not alone enough.
"Uncle Roarke, did you know that Mia knows all the words to Hamilton?"Isla bounces in her chair across from me at the breakfast table, Captain Feathers perched on her shoulder like a tiny green terrorist."She taught me the rap parts!"
I pause, coffee cup halfway to my lips."The rap parts?"
"Yeah!Listen!"Isla launches into what I can only assume is supposed to be music, though it sounds more like an auctioneer having a seizure."Lafayette, I'm taking this horse by the reins, making red coats redder with bloodstains!"
"BLOODSTAINS!BLOODSTAINS!"Captain Feathers squawks enthusiastically.
"Isla."I set down my coffee."Perhaps we could discuss something that doesn't involve violence before breakfast?"
"But it's history, Uncle Roarke!Mia says musicals make learning fun.She's gonna teach me Chicago next!"
"Absolutely not."
"Why not?It's just about?—"
"Murder.Corruption.Catherine Zeta-Jones doing the splits.The answer is no."
Captain Feathers tilts his head."MURDER!MURDER!PRETTY BIRD MURDER!"
I glare at the bird."Stop encouraging her."
"He can't help it," Isla giggles."Mia says Captain Feathers is just expressing his artistic side."
Of course he is.
Because in three days, Mia Rossi has somehow convinced my niece that her delinquent parakeet is a misunderstood genius.
She’s also turned bloodshed into breakfast entertainment.And single-handedly transformed my yacht into an off-Broadway rehearsal space.
The crew hums show tunes while polishing brass.Claire now organizes files by color like it’s a Pinterest board.Captain Martinez—my battle-hardened former first officer—was caught doing jazz hands on the bridge yesterday.
“Also Miss Mia says,” Isla continues, stabbing her scrambled eggs, “that we should have a talent show!Captain Feathers could do his Shakespeare, and I could sing, and you could?—"
"Work.I could work.Like I'm supposed to be doing."
