I narrowed my eyes, unsure if he was making fun of me or not. “That’s a thing?”
“It sure is, darling,” he said. “You don’t know a thing about yachting, do you?”
“I know enough.”
“Yeah, sure.” He watched me with a look I couldn’t place. Annoyance? Incredulity? A mocking disregard? I held his stare, not wanting to let this infuriating man with his bad attitude, and windswept golden hair, and broad shoulders, and blue eyes dressed in impossibly thick lashes think he’d gotten one over on me. The pause was only seconds but felt much longer, and I’d begun to seriously consider stabbing him with one of my heels and jumping overboard when the captain’s voice came over the radio again.
“Bring her to the wheelhouse.”
Ollie sighed and clipped the walkie-talkie back to his pants. “There goes my fecking smoke break,” he said as he tucked the unlit cigarette into his shirt pocket.
“Sorry for giving you back eleven minutes of your life,” I said. “Truly, I am.”
He raised an eyebrow.
“Every cigarette you smoke takes eleven minutes off your life,” I explained.
“Are you on about that Free Florida Tobacco shite again?”
“Tobacco Free Florida,” I corrected.
“Well, I wouldn’t worry too much about extending my life, seeing as you’ll clearly be the death of me if you get this job.” He turned away from me then and set off down the main deck.
For a moment, I couldn’t move. I watched him walk away, indecision freezing me in place. He was right, I knew nothing about yachting. I didn’t even know to take off my shoes or that dock walking was an actual thing.
Ollie paused a few feet away and glanced at me from over his shoulder. “You coming or not, Nina Lejeune?”
It was the amusement on his face that made the decision for me. I couldn’t run away when he clearly didn’t think I should be here at all. I couldn’t fail when that was exactly what he expected me to do. My false confidence became real determination, and I raised my eyebrows in challenge as I took my first step after him.
That hesitant smile flickered at the corner of Ollie’s mouth again before he continued down the main deck. I followed after him, neither of us speaking. There was too much to see. He turned a corner and led me through what looked like a large luxurious living room to a spiral staircase. I ran my hand along the intricate wooden railing as I climbed after him. The staircase was beautiful. Everything on theSerendipitywas clean and tasteful and expensive-looking.
When we reached the next landing, Ollie set off down a short hallway and stopped before a closed door.
“Here you are,” he said. He rested a hand on the door handle and swung it open. “Good luck, Nina Lejeune. You’ll need it.” He winked and turned away. I watched him go, not sure what to think. The man was confusing as hell. And annoying. And damn, he had a nice ass.
Ollie looked back over his shoulder and caught me staring. I looked away quickly but heard him laugh as he disappeared down the staircase.
A throat cleared behind me. I turned back to the wheelhouse. Inside, two leather-padded swivel chairs stood before an array of screens and panels. Large windows looked out over the bow of the ship and the marina parking lot. At a small table to the side of the room sat the source of the throat clearing.
Captain Rodriguez was a Hispanic man who looked to be in his late fifties. He wore a blue polo with the wordSerendipityembroidered on it in gold letters, white slacks with sharp creases, and boat shoesthat didn’t have a single scuff mark. The man was the very definition of put together. There wasn’t a wrinkle in sight other than on his sun-weathered face, though most of it was covered by a neat white beard.
“Captain Rodriguez,” I said, reminded of my purpose. A few sure steps found me beside the table, and I stuck out my hand. “Nina Lejeune. I’m here to discuss the junior stewardess position.”
He shook my hand and gestured for me to take the seat across from him. “Good morning, Nina. Please, call me Captain Xav.”
I set my shoes on the floor and took my seat, feeling childish with my toes hanging in the air. I needed to pretend being a yacht stewardess was my heart’s desire if I wanted to beat out the other applicants. But even after hours of web searches, I wasn’t sure what all the job entailed. The duties of a yacht stewardess seemed to vary depending on the boat. All I was certain of was it would get me what I needed: money, a place to live, food, an escape.
Pretend you’re trying to break the beam.The thought, a mantra from my gymnastics days, was a well-worn track in my brain. Even before I’d shattered my knee, beam had been my hardest event. The only way to succeed on beam was to let go of fear and go hard. It required intensity, total focus. Captain Xav didn’t speak when I slid my résumé across the table, and I could tell that navigating this conversation would be a lot like that. I had to release any doubts I had about myself and this job and go hard.
“So,” I began. “Like I said, I’d love to be considered for the junior stewardess position.”
He glanced at my résumé. “You don’t have any relevant experience,” he said. “Your only work experience is as a children’s gymnastics coach.”
“Yes, but the skills I gained as a coach would be an asset to—”
“Let’s just get to the point,” Captain Xav said. He leaned toward me over the table. “What are you really doing here?”
I blinked at him. “Pardon?”
