“Not long ago, I worked with my uncle. This was his place, and I lived on a boat.” We started to walk again. “He died a year ago, and left this place to me.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Me too.” He cleared his throat. “So why were you sailing in the South Pacific?”
“I was living my dad’s dream. He had a lot of sailing routes mapped out, and we picked this one because of my name.”
Hunter gave me a sideways glance. “Was he with you on the boat?”
“He passed away a few years ago.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, Sydney.”
The ache of losing both of my parents in a matter of two years pinched my heart. Time softened the unceasing pain that at first felt like a sharp stab, but it was never gone. My throat closed, and my face prickled. The earlier lightheadedness returned, and I didn’t want to lean on Hunter more than I already did. “Can we take a break?”
Hunter navigated us to a large rock where he helped me sit.
“I must be tired.” Pressure formed behind my eyes, and I sniffled. “I usually don’t cry”—well, not anymore—“but right now, for some reason, my emotions are getting the better of me.”
“Grief is complicated. After you think you’ve got hold of it, it returns when you least expect it. And being stranded on a deserted island doesn’t help.” He sat on the ground, hauled his knees up, and rested his back against a tree. His tanned ankles and calves had several small, white scars in pairs. I would ask why he had them but then I didn’t want to appear too prying. Hunter plucked a twig off his shirt. “What made you want to live your father’s dream?”
I shrugged, letting fat tears run down my face. “Stupidity.”
And Tina… Tina, who had stayed by my side through all these years while everyone else had slowly drifted from my life, was the closest I had to a family. Soon she would probably be worried sick over why I hadn’t sent her another note.
“I thought it would be a nice gesture to honor him.” I tilted my head skyward. “I came across Dad’s detailed sailing notes and played with the idea of whether I could do it for him and me. I had several months free before starting a new job, so I decided to charter a boat in Australia, and thought I’d figure the messy stuff out later. And look at me now. In a jungle with no sailboat and no ashes.”
Phill was right: I wasn’t good at anything but being book-smart. I couldn’t prepare a meal, wasn’t crafty, and definitely couldn’t plan and execute a successful trip. I wasn’t built for an adventure.
I let out an exaggerated groan. “I’m so stupid chartering a boat without knowing anything about sailing.”
“Do you know how to fly a commercial airliner?” Hunter asked.
I looked at him sideways. “No.”
“But you bought a ticket and got on the plane to fly from the States to Australia. You are not stupid. You counted on your captain to do their job just like you trusted the pilot.”
He had a valid point. I sighed. “I need to get back home.”
“I’ll drag my boat out of the water and see if it’s fixable. But if I can’t fix it”—Hunter rose to his feet and brushed the dirt off his shorts—“we’ll find a way to get the attention of a boat passing by and catch a ride with them to Rarotonga.”
“That’s good.” I smiled, relieved that Hunter already had an extra plan to get us out of here. “How often do people sail by?”
Hunter hesitated for a moment, ran his hand through his hair. “Maybe a few times a year.”
There were just not enough middle fingers to make it through this day. I snorted, and a snot bubble popped out of my nose.That’s embarrassing.I wiped it with the back of my hand. “You mean I’m stuck here with you for months?”
“Trust me”—his forehead wrinkled in the expressionI know, that sucks—“I’m not thrilled about it either.”
My chest tightened, and my stomach cramped. I felt truly nervous. No—scratch that—I had a full-blown panic. What in the hell would I do for that long on a deserted island? Not to mention my job as a senior cybersecurity architect at Global Aegis waited for me. They had the highest-paid jobs in the States, and the most exciting projects. And I got in. I was born to design networks, write algorithms, and get lost in a constant battle of identifying security gaps. This was my job, the one I’d fought for, it was the bright spark in the crap sandwich of my life so far. It was the fresh start I needed.
I screwed up. Big time.
“It’s just ridiculous.” I laughed, this time covering my face to avoid another snot mortification. “I had a good plan to get my life back on track. Butthis”—I waved my hands around—“wasn’t part of it.”
“Don’t get worked up just yet. Let me first figure out the situation with my boat. Maybe it is not as bad as I think.”
I wanted to slam my fist into something, but all around me were hard surfaces: trees, rocks, and Hunter. A fly landed on my left thigh, and I smacked it—totally missing the bug but leaving a hot sting on my skin. I glanced at Hunter. His eyes had an intense focus. I was so far out of my environment it was comical, in his domain. What if he was a recluse who hated damsels in distress? The less I appeared to be a problem, the better the chances he wouldn’t mind sharing this wretched jungle.
