After a long minute, Skip looks up. “But I only see a reservation here for one room?” he says, his voice rising at the end likeit’s a question, and I almost feel sorry for him. Skip suddenly looks like he’s staring down the barrel of a cannon.
“Nope, it should be for two. Either way, we need two rooms,” Axe says. He keeps his voice firm but kind, a combination that makes people straighten up without realizing why. It reminds me of something Theo once said about him when we were talking through his most recent sketches—that Axe is the type of guy who can lead his team through a storm without ever raising his voice, earning all the respect by just being himself.
Ironic, actually, that he led me safely through a literal storm to this…erm…ship.
“I’m sorry, sir, but we’re all booked.”
At that, Axe laughs, as if it’s silly to think that anyone would willingly stay at this hotel. I notice that we’re back to him calling Axesirinstead ofbro. “Impossible.”
Skip is scrambling to make it right. “Uh, okay, let me just, uh, fix that for you. Sorry, uh, sir.”
“Come on. I’ll pay double the rate. Triple. I’ll rent out the whole place. I don’t care. We just need two rooms.”
Skip looks truly seasick now. He glances over his shoulder, hoping someone might swoop in to save him, like a lifeboat on the horizon. “The thing is, it’s my cousin’s wedding. Ma will kill me if I give up the rooms. And then with this weather—it’s supposed to get bad again—and we’re already double-booked.” Skip’s words come spilling out in a mess, his voice getting higher with every excuse, like a kid trying to talk his way out of detention.
Axe turns to me, and for the first time, he actually looks kind of freaked-out. “I swear I didn’t plan this,” he whispers, eyes wide with worry.
The idea of Axe plotting something like this is straight-up hilarious. The Axe MacKenzie I know is painfully honest withme. Sure, I’ve heard he can be a ruthless shark in business, but he’s not sneaky. If he wanted us to share a room, he’d have just asked—and probably would have written it into section thirty-nine, subsection C of our contract.
I press my lips together, but the giggle is hard to hold in.
“What’s so funny?” Axe looks at me, completely flummoxed.
“It’s just that it’s the classic one-bed, one-room trope,” I say, grinning.
Axe looks blank. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“You know, in movies or books, when the almost-couple checks into a hotel, and there’ssupposedto be two rooms, butwhoops!, there’s only one, andsurprise!, there’s only one bed? It’s iconic. I didn’t know this kind of thing actually happened in real life.”
He frowns. “That’s a thing?”
“Oh, it’s a huge thing. Not in my favorite rom-com,Notting Hill—but it’s all over the genre. Hallmark movies love it. It’s practically a rule: one bed, cue sparks! Axe, how do you notknowthis?”
He shrugs, unbothered. “I’m not sure I’ve ever seen that sort of movie.”
I gasp. “Not evenNotting Hill? But you’refrom the UK!”
“Aye, not evenNotting Hill.”
“No!”
“Aye!”
“We’re going to have to fix that,” I say, and then blush because I’m making it sound like I assume we’ll be hanging out just for fun after the project is over.
Axe turns back to Skip, who’s trying to make himself invisible. “What sort of room is available?” Axe asks.
“Umm, it’s the Seafarer’s Sunrise Suite?” Skip swallows hard. “It’s not really a suite, it’s just a room. But it does face the sunrise. I think? And I can throw in a free Pirate’s Plunder breakfastbuffet for two and two complimentary drinks at our excellent downstairs bar, Davey Jones’s Lager.”
“I mean the bed situation. How many beds?” Axe asks.
“One, sir. There’s just one king bed in the room, sir.”
“Ha! Of course!” I burst out laughing, already picturing this lone bed that’s probably shaped like a boat’s hull, with a porthole window looking out on the parking lot. I’m tryingreallyhard not to think about the other part—Axe and me stuck together for the whole night—because that thought is making me feel a totally different kind of breathless.
“We’ll take it,” Axe says tightly.
Skip nods, then hands over a key that is attached to a giant starfish, and all I can think is how much better I could make it with some glitter and a little gold paint.
