“This does feel pretty good,” I said, adjusting myself so that a jet shot water right onto my back. “How’s your hand?”
Alex looked beyond me and didn’t answer. Maybe he hadn’t heard me. Just when I was about to repeat myself, he turned to me, speaking so quickly it reminded me of Greyson. “I’m sorry for yelling at the primary. I know I should’ve let you handle it, and I probably only made things worse, but—and I’m not trying to excuse my behavior here—when she called you a drama queen, I just...” He shook his head. “Well, I stopped thinking.”
I stared into the roiling water of the hot tub. “You probably shouldn’t have done that, but I’m not going to lie. I thought it was pretty amazing.”
“Then I’m glad I did it,” Alex said, the worry disappearing from his expression. “I’d do it again, you know, though I hope I don’t have to. I’m surprised I still have a job, to be honest.”
“Cap hates dog charters as much as we do. He only had to yell at you to make a good show for the guests. Nothing drives him crazier than dog shit on the teak.”
“You’re missing the sunset sitting over there, you know,” Alex said. “It’s an important part of the guest experience.”
“Right.” I crossed the hot tub, sitting beside Alex.
He scanned the sun deck with an exaggerated frown. “Horrible service here,” he said. “I ordered a gin martini almost thirty seconds ago!”
I tried to adopt a scowl of my own, but it was hard to stop giggling. “Iwas told the chef was very talented. Michelin-star earning. But I don’t believe it. I still can’t believe he madechickenfor lunch. It was the best chicken I’ve ever had, but still. Chicken is what poor people eat.”
Alex snorted, breaking character for only a moment before responding, “I know I didn’tputfoie gras on my preference sheet, but it’s what I wanted. Why can’t that idiot chef read my mind?”
“Well,Idon’t actually know what foie gras is, but I want it anyway.”
Alex sighed and looked over his shoulder. “Really, where is that gin martini? If it weren’t for the fact that the crew on this ship is stunningly attractive, I’d end this charter right now.”
When we’d run out of ridiculous things to say, we fell quiet and looked out at the ocean. The tension of the day melted away with every inch the sun descended. It was nice to be off my feet, to do something relaxing and stare out at the water. It was nice to forget about the charter guests, my list, my worries about Mia, and Kitty, and Beth, and Mark. For a few minutes, it was as if the whole world were only this view and Alex beside me, making me laugh.
“Jo?” Alex said.
I turned to face him, momentarily distracted by how the warm colors of the sky lit up his face. We were nose to nose. Somehow over thelast ten minutes, we’d drifted closer to each other, and I could feel his leg against mine. He’d slung an arm around the edge of the hot tub, and his skin grazed my shoulders. I thought about that moment in the galley—Alex’s hand on mine, a pause, one I was almost sure meant something. Any more of this: the sunset, that almost smile, his arm against my shoulders, and I was sure the pheromones would win out over my common sense.
“Jo?” Alex said again. I snapped my eyes up to his, not realizing I’d been staring at his mouth.
“Yeah?”
“Who do you think Nina’s going out with tonight?”
Or maybe that moment in the galley hadn’t meant anything at all. “I don’t know,” I said. “She goes on a lot of dates, but I wouldn’t entirely rule out Ollie.” I didn’t think she was actually out with Ollie tonight. But I didn’t want Alex getting too invested in Nina if hedidhave feelings for her. It would only be a dead end.
“What happened between them?” Alex asked.
I sighed. “I have no idea. Nina won’t say. All I know issomethinghappened their first charter season. My guess is they’re in love with each other, but too stubborn to do anything about it.”
Alex nodded, looking thoughtful for a moment.
“You know what I like to do after a bad charter?” I said, wanting to change the subject.
“What?”
“Jump off the yacht,” I said, scooting an inch away so that our legs were no longer touching. “It clears my head.”
“Willingly facing possible death sounds like it would definitely clear your head,” he said.
I stared at him. “Have you never jumped off a yacht before?”
Alex scratched his jaw with his good hand. “Will you think less of me if I say no?”
“Maybe.”
“Then... maybe?”
