This is exactly why Ollie and I can’t be together. We can’t only have fun. I’d have to take on the inevitable disappointment and hurt. There would be expectations. I’d have them for him, and he’d certainly have them for me.
I have to ignore this. It’s the only shot I have at making it go away. By the time charter season is over, he’ll realize I’m not worth all the trouble. He’ll stay, and eventually things will go back to normal. He’s clearly having an early midlife crisis. Someone needs to buy that man a sports car.
Britt bounds over like a gossip-sniffing golden retriever. “What was that about? I didn’t hear the details, but it sounded intense. Do you need some girl talk?”
Nekesa and Alyssa give each other bewildered looks from where they stand behind Britt.
“Don’t you worry about Mom and Dad,” I say, and pat Britt on the top of her head. “Can you train Nekesa on laundry for me? I’ve got a preference sheet meeting. Think you can handle making up guest rooms, Alyssa?”
Alyssa nods, and I shoot the three of them a smile, grateful to step away until I arrive in the wheelhouse to find Xav, RJ, and Ollie waiting for me at the table. Suddenly girl talk sounds like the better option.
I glare at Xav. “You think you’re funny, don’t you?”
Xav shrugs. “Sure. Don’t know what this has to do with the preference sheet meeting, though.”
“You’re full of it,” I say. There’s no doubt in my mind that Xav helped orchestrate this. I turn to RJ. “I never thought I’d say this, but you’re my favorite.”
RJ wrinkles his brow. Ollie stares down at his hands. Xav rolls his eyes before telling me to sit my ass down. I take a seat near RJ, something I have never purposefully done twice in one day.
It’s going to be a long charter season.
6
Nine years earlier
The day before my first-ever charter guests arrived, I skipped up to the main deck and spotted Ollie as soon as I pushed through the galley doors. He was bent over the island counter, scribbling furiously with a pencil as he glanced from a notebook to three preference sheets, the contents of which included a photograph of each guest along with their likes, dislikes, and special requests.
He didn’t look up from the preference sheets when I stepped inside. He hadn’t paid me any attention when everyone had assembled for the all-crew meeting the other day either. All I’d gotten wasYou again, huh?I’d replied withWell, hello to you too, Mr.Delightful.Ollie had only shaken his head before taking the seat across from me at the crew mess table.
Awkward greeting aside, I was hopeful Ollie and I could get off to a better start now that we were docked at Simpson Bay and charter season had officially begun. Seeing as we’d be stuck on this boat together for the next four months, what other choice was there?
I crossed the galley and stood on the opposite side of the island from him. “Lovely seeing you again, Oliver.”
He flicked his gaze over me before returning his attention to the preference sheets with a sigh. “It’s Ollie. Not Oliver.”
He straightened before I could say anything else and bounded to the pantry. He stuck his head inside, muttering under his breath when he returned to the counter and wrote something in his notebook. Back and forth he went, acting as if I weren’t there. Counter, pantry, counter, pantry. Peek inside, scribble, scan the preference sheets.
After a few rounds of this dance, Ollie stuck the pencil between his teeth and stared at me. “Can I help you?” he said, the words warped because of the pencil in his mouth.
“Quinn sent me to help you go shopping for the items that were missing from the provision delivery yesterday,” I explained.
Ollie let the pencil drop to the counter and started writing again. “And I already told Quinn I don’t need any fecking help.”
I held back a sigh. I didn’t give a flying fuck whetherOliverneeded my help or not. My only concern was keeping my job, and seeing asQuinnwas chief stewardess, and Ollie wasn’t, he could deal with my company for a little while. Unlike me, he didn’t have a superior to answer to other than Captain Xav.
I plucked the pencil from his hands, wishing I could shove it up his nose. “That’s too bad, Gordon Ramsay, because I’m going anyway.”
Ollie stared at the pencil in my hands before dragging his eyes up to meet mine.What pretty eyes! What a pretty mouth!I thought, and imagined him replying,The better to eat you with, my dear.
“Can’t tell if that’s a compliment or not,” he said. He pried the pencil from my fingers to flourish one last line on the page before tearing it from the notebook. When he shoved the page into the pocket of his T-shirt, he gave me a weary look. “Nice chat. See you later, love.”
“Don’t call me love,” I said.
“Don’t get flattered. I call everyone love.” I watched him kick off his boat shoes and grab a pair of beat-up sneakers from the pantry.
“Hey!” I called, following him as he strutted from the galley. “Where are you going?”
Ollie didn’t reply, but the answer was obvious. I looked down at my bare feet. Did he seriously think I’d let something as simple as a pair of shoes keep me from missing out on my first chance to explore Saint Martin?
