Buying a swimsuit was one thing. Getting in the water was another.
I figured I’d wait until no one was around before dipping my feet in the pool. Learning to swim on my own wasn’t happening. It would be just another Greek tragedy. I could picture Ma Anga crowing,‘I told you so!’ the moment they dragged my limp body out of the pool. All I wanted to do was to make friends with the water—touch it, feel it, say hello. Like a first date. Not that I’m touchy-feely on the first date, except for that one time with Jay—I got turned on because he said he could make a prosthetic thumb I could stick on any guy I wanted to introduce to Dolly.
Jay turned out to be a liar, but providence had now graced me with someone who didn’t need a prosthetic thumb to win Dolly’s approval. Nikos was naturally endowed. And he’d just climbed aboard the Abigail Rose II like a boss, holding…an octopus.
“Look what I caught.” He waved the floppy sea creature at us. “And there are more in the boat.”
Apparently, spearing octopuses was a thing. Nikos and Thomas had returned from their diving trip with dinner for everyone. They showed off their catch, relaying stories of their hunting skills.
Isabelle looked a bit green and marched off to her cabin with her attendant in tow. “Teri, I need your help. I have octopus ink all over me.”
Hannah stepped aside as they brushed past her. “I’ll let the chef know you’ll be having octopus for dinner.”
Fia and I exchanged a look. We were both thinking of Alex hauling bags of brown-paper wrapped meat and herbs and vegetables into the dinghy.
“I can’t wait to make dinner for you tonight,” he said. “You’re going to love this.” He waved a feathery herb in our faces, his enthusiasm infectious. “Wild fennel. So sweet and fragrant.”
I felt a pang of sympathy for Alex as I made my way to the cabin. He was probably used to juggling passengers’ wishes, but being a yacht chef was not an easy gig. He was responsible for every meal served onboard. He cooked for both the clients and crew—breakfast, lunch, dinner, dessert, snacks—while keeping track of dietary restrictions and requests. He went to bed after midnight and was up hours before me. And, he’d still managed to leave a little treat on the kitchen counter for me. Maybe I needed to cut him some slack.
The bathroom door opened and out strolled Alex, interrupting my thoughts.
“What’s this?” He dangled my bra on the tip of his finger.
“God, you startled me. I didn’t know you were here.”
He continued to advance, his infuriating eyebrow cock in place.
“It’s a bra.” I swatted his finger out of my face.
“What’s it doing in there?” He motioned toward the en suite.
“Brushing its teeth. What do youthinkit’s doing?” I huffed. “I washed it and hung it up to dry.”
“This boat has a whole crew to cater to your needs. You do not wash. You do not dry. And for crying out loud, you do not ambush me with random, falling objects.” He shook the double-cupped garment at me. “I get in the shower and this thing bitch-slapped me in the face. Just hand your laundry to the crew and everything will be looked after. Katalaves?”
“No. No katala…” Whatever he said. “I don’t like anyone touching my underwear.”
His eyebrow quirked higher.
God, how was I feeling sorry for this guy a little while ago?
He looked like he was about to say something, but then his expression changed. Obviously, the crew had rules of conduct when it came to fraternizing with passengers. Alex had been about to flirt with me. I was pretty sure of it.
“How about we pick a designated spot for your bra?” He walked back into the bathroom, found a hook and hung it by the strap. Then, he patted it in athere, theregesture, as if to appease me, but we both knew what he was really doing. Touching my underwear.
Before I could protest, Alex gave me a smart salute and sauntered out the door.
I walked up to my bra, tight lipped, with every intention of staying mad. Something tugged at the corners of my mouth. Could it be? Was I…smiling?
Dammit, I was smiling.
“Well, well,” I said to my bra, untwisting the strap so it hung straight. “At least one of us is getting some action.”
I showered and changed for my dinner date with Naani. Chasing a three-thumbed unicorn is fun and thrilling in a nerve-wracking way, but a girl’s got to make time for her grandma. Naani took her evening meals early, so I joined her at the table Hannah set up for us, away from everyone else.
“Isn’t this romantic?” Naani chuckled.
“Just you, me, and the sea.” I flipped my freshly shampooed hair to the side.
