“Have you come up for air yet?” I joke.
“Just about. But back to you. What are you wearing?”
“Yoga pants and a sweatshirt.”
“Sexy,” she chuckles.
“I can’t exactly go flouncing around the ship in a ball gown, Honor.”
“You could, but it would definitely raise suspicions, so I understand the yoga pant selection.”
A beat of silence passes. “I’m nervous.”
“Of a first date? Why?”
“Because this isn’t a typical hookup. I’m not going to sleep with her. We’re stuck on a ship together for the next several weeks. Oh, and I’m nearly one hundred percent sure I’m going to be the one who gets hurt when it all goes to shit.”
“Ah, I see the positive attitude is in full effect,” she deadpans. “Look, Cleo. You told River you’d take things day by day, so just do that. There are two possible outcomes here. One, it does all go to shit and the pair of you realise you’re meant for nothing more than friendship. Two, it works out and you find the love of your life, and let’s be fair, she has to be a sailor because your kinky little heart won’t settle for anything less.”
“I don’t know why I agreed knowing—”
“Arghhhhh, stop! You’re talking yourself in circles. You did agree, so just go for it. Cleo, River might be a player, but she’s not your ex, okay? Don’t tar her with that brush without giving her a fair shot. If she turns out to be a shit,I’ll be the first one to find her and make her regret ever talking to you.”
“…Fine. Yes, I need to stop. Okay I’m ready. Thank you, sweetie.”
“Anytime. I expect a full debrief. Don’t leave anything out.”
“I can’t keep calling my bestie every five minutes.” I laugh. “Give me a few days and I’ll see what I can do.”
“I can agree to that. Cleo…enjoy yourself, honey. Give your brain a backseat for a second on this one, yeah?”
“Yeah, I will. Love you.”
“Love you too.”
Feeling a little better, I waste some more time scribbling some notes regarding WO Benson. I write down everything I’ve observed: the brutal PT session, the special treatment he offered me, Grey’s constant presence at his side, the bunk inspections, the rank inconsistencies. I add questions: Who’s allowing this? Why hasn’t anyone reported him? What’s his endgame? Is Grey complicit or just naïve? I want to look into him a little more.Check out his service record and see who he’s friends with. My senses tell me I’m on to something, and I plan to use this article as a way to get close. I’ll find the truth, that’s a fact. Dad isn’t going to be happy if I uncover something thatmight damage the Navy’s reputation, but that’s how things go sometimes. I can’t ignore a potentially important story because it might upset him.
This is the eternal struggle—being the admiral’s daughter and being a journalist. Dad wants me to protect the Navy’s reputation. I want to expose the truth. We’ve clashed over this before. We’ll clash again. But I won’t compromise my integrity, not even for him.
A light knock pulls my gaze from the now chock-full page of my notebook. Closing it, I stuff it to the bottom of my bag. I’ve no reason to think anyone will come snooping, but you can never be too careful.
Opening the door, my smile freezes in place. Instead of River, WO Benson is outside my cabin grinning at me. My insides turn to ice. It’s a mere coincidence he’s here right after I finished making a list of things I want to investigate. I know that, but my body is still reacting as if I’ve been caught in the act, regardless.
“WO Benson, hello.”
“Good evening, Cleo. I just wanted to stop by and make sure you were okay after the PT session. It was a brutal one.”
At least he’s self-aware enough to recognise how “brutal” he was being.
“Of course. It was quite the experience.”
“Good, good. I was just on my way to the dining hall,” he says. I catch movement in the corner of my eye. River steps through the bulkhead closest to my cabin. She sees Benson and freezes. Thankfully, he’s still got his attention on me. After a beat, River does an about turn and disappears. Smart choice. Even I know Benson would be all up in her business, wanting to know why she’s coming to see me after hours. I’d have had to make something up, which is a pain in the bum. Crisis averted, though.
“So, would you care to join me for dinner?”
Fuck, he’s still talking to me. “Unfortunately I have plans. Maybe another night?”
I don’t want to explain what my plans are, or who with. I don’t owe him that.
