Like a zombie, I sit on the edge of my bed and stare at the back of the door. We’ve tried so hard to keep everything a secret and in one tiny moment, I’ve ruined everything. My gaze goes unfocused, everything around me blurs and morphs as I dwell on the possibility of what happened last night.
Fuck alcohol—I don’t think I can be trusted to drink again. Apparently, I ruin things when I do, like spilling secrets.
But Damon is my friend. He said he won’t say anything to anyone, and I believe him. So why am I so worried?
It’s all going to work out.
We’refine.
Mentally slapping myself out of my haze, I stand and get back to work. The phrase ‘toughen up buttercup’ comes to mind. It was one of my dad’s favorite lines whenever I complained about something, so it makes sense that it’s what runs through my head now. He taught me to always look ahead and to push through the hard times, so that’s what I’m going to do: push through.
Hunger completely replaced by unsettled nerves, I bypass the kitchen and the chef that occupies it and opt to get ready for Grace and Mark’s arrival. Garrett comes on the radio announcing that he’s meeting the Oliviers at the entrance of the harbor, which is odd, but not all that unusual. Garrett’s one of those guys who seems to go above and beyond in everything he does.
It isn’t long before familiar figures walk down the dock, Garrett behind them carrying their overnight luggage. I was expecting them to be all smiles after just seeing their friends, but their expressions are tight, forced. They both greet me with polite smiles, but there’s something about their eyes that has me worried.
Neither one of their smiles reached their eyes.
“Hannah, dear, would you do me a favor and unpack my bag? I’d like to have the clothes washed as well.” She takes the cool towel I offer, quickly wiping down the nape of her neck. The humidity has everyone looking like wet dogs and I’m tempted to grab one for myself.
“Absolutely,” I smile kindly at the older woman as she walks past me and into the main salon. Mark follows closely after her, his hand on her lower back.
“I’ll get these to their room for you, Hannah.” Garrett sidesteps past me, luggage in both arms.
“Thanks,” I say as I quietly check on Grace and Mark as we pass by them. Both of them have stopped at the water tray and arrangement of snack foods I placed at the bar, neither one looking like they need something.
Laundry it is.
By the time I emerge from my laundry cave, the energy on the boat is tense. Aidan sits in the crew mess, staring at his sandwich, his eyes distant and thoughtful, which is unlike him. We did drink a lot last night, so I’m guessing he’s feeling his hangover pretty hard right now.
My arms are full of freshly pressed clothes that need to go straight to Grace’s closet. The dresses she wears are beautiful and delicate and I don’t want them to crease.
The door to their room is closed and I gently tap on it and wait for a response.
Mark opens the door, his smile tight. “Hey, kid. We’ve been waiting for you.”
“Oh, really? Well, here I am,” I force a smile and a laugh, trying to cut through whatever this odd tension is. The air just feels uncomfortable. It reminds me of when my parents were talking about me in front of me, but notsayingthey were talking about me. I hated it then and I hate the feeling I’m getting now.
“Have a seat, Hannah.” Grace’s voice is soft and cautious as she takes a seat in the small seating area and gestures to the open chair. Mark stands beside her, his hand resting on her shoulder.
This is fucking weird.
I carefully hang the garments in her closet before taking a seat. My hands start to feel clammy, and I squeeze my palms together. “Is everything okay?”
Grace sighs heavily. “We wanted to tell you that we had no idea that Captain Pike was like that. We are so sorry that we were blind to his advances. He’s been removed from the boat and won’t be returning.”
My stomach drops. “What?” I stammer, breathless.
Mark gives Grace a reassuring squeeze, his gaze turning to mine. “We had no idea he would pursue a relationship with you. It’s completely inappropriate. We’re just sorry we didn’t know sooner.”
Grace leans forward, placing a cool hand on my knee. “Are you alright dear?”
No, I’m not fucking alright. Damon’s a goddamn liar.
Anger boils through me, hot and devouring leaving nothing behind but sizzling rage. It takes every ounce of willpower to not lose my temper at the two people sitting across from me.
“No one took advantage of anyone,” I say, as calmly and firmly as I can. “If you fired him, you might as well fire me too.” My gaze locks with their faces, my chin set stubbornly.
Mark sighs, his head shaking. “He was your superior, Hannah. He took advantage. He knew better, yet still continued your relationship. He even admitted to it—took full responsibility.”
