Evan squeezes her hand. “Let me get my laptop, and we’ll show him.”
I watch Evan go up the stairs, my interest piqued. “Are you sure the hackers will drop the video and things will blow up?”
“All I know is that if theydodrop the video, it will blow up.” Lexi bites her lip and hitches her shoulders. “And I don’twant to be here when it does.” She sighs, the breath seeming to come from deep within her. “I’ve shared mine. Now you have to share yours. Let’s see if your ‘so fucked you don’t know if you’re coming or going’ is worse than mine.”
“Nobody can top yours, Lexi. I won’t even try.” I shoot her a smile. “I’ve only run out of time and money.”
She shifts in her seat. “Time, I get, but money? Don’t you have like thousands of followers? And a trust fund?”
Sometimes I forget that the O’Reillys know more about me than the average person who’s come into my life over the past twenty years. “I’m not touching the trust fund,” I tell her.Ever. “I’m doing this on my own steam. As for the thousands of followers, any money I make on social media goes to non-profits.”
“Like what?” Her tone says it all. I’m crazy.
“Cleaning the oceans of plastic for one? Money doesn’t make me happy, Lexi. Going for a dive and not finding a single piece of plastic while I’m at it makes me happy.” And I’m committed now. As much as I would love to divert my social media funds to my project, I can’t leave those NGOs in the lurch. What they are doing is more important than my TV series. One day, everything will cross-pollinate, but my work means nothing if the oceans aren’t cleaned up.
I can feel her gaze on me as I cut open the croissants and fill them with bacon and scrambled eggs. I put one on a plate for her and push it over.
“Thanks.” Instead of taking a bite, she chews on her bottom lip.
Evan returns with his laptop and places it on the kitchen counter. “Read this and then look at this website.”
Lexi gets up and walks away, leaving her croissant untouched, shaking her head as she disappears down the hall.
“Should you—” I start.Should I? Follow her? Make sure she’s okay?
“Nope. She just needs a moment.” Evan turns the laptop in my direction.
I wipe my hands on a dishcloth and lean against the counter to read. It’s a job description. Ne’emba Private Island. Luxury resort. Diving. That gets my attention. “What’s this?”
“Lexi’s dream job. She’s been talking about working at a place like this for years, and I think she needs to get away right now.”
Damn skippy. I take the laptop and read on, not making much sense of it.
“You should check out their website.”
“Right.” I hop to the next open webpage, and my pulse skips a beat. Of course. It’sNe’emba Island. One island in a chain of atolls that link one of the biggest reefs off the east coast of Africa. It’s one of the places I haven’t been to, money and distance being the biggest impediment. I haven’t connected the dots, but these images…they’re what dreams are made of. The resort’s website doesn’t need to do much to sell itself. It’s picture-perfect paradise. There’s a whole section on the diving alone, and I close my eyes. Fields of lettuce leaf corals. Bouquets of gorgonian sea fans that stretch to the light from the ocean bed.This. This is what I live for. This is what I need to wrap up my series. It starts off big with the ocean mammals; it needs to close small with the tiniest of sea slugs. “Why’re you showing me this?”
“It’s a managerial couple position. One person runs the hotel. The other person runs the dive center.” Evan holds my gaze. “I thought you two could kill two birds with one stone and give it a shot.”
“What? How?” I’m not getting the gist here.
“I know you’ve been putting off filming the smaller things. You focused on animals that always get sponsorships first.”
This is true. I started off big because whales get way more attention in the media than sea cucumbers. And now that I’m getting to the small things, I’ve a deadline hurtling in my direction. Plus, I’m so broke that I’m on the brink of asking for help from the last person on the planet I want to: my dad.
“You and Lexi should apply,” Evan says. “She gets to hide out on a remote island where nobody can harass her. You get to run the dive center. It’s max three dives a day, so you’ll have ample free time. With those reefs on your doorstep for three months—just imagine. It’s essentially all-expenses paid. Plus your salary.”
I drag a hand down my face, digesting the picture Evan is painting. It sounds too good to be true. There must be a catch.
“Let me get a better understanding of what’s going on here.”
I take the laptop and my croissant and go sit in the living room. It takes me twenty minutes to read through the job description again and study their website in more detail, and as I do, somewhere within me a bean of hope sprouts. It’s only until April next year. The timing is spot on. A dive center would be a breeze to run. I have the highest level of diving qualification and am a certified rescue diver and trainer. Even if the pay sucks, I’ll have access to some of the most beautiful reefs in the world. It’s more than I could ever hope for, but?—
“This will never work,” I say.
“Why not?” Evan has made us fresh coffee and puts my mug down on the coffee table.
“They’re looking for a management couple? We’re not a couple.”
