“Hey, Tash,” I answered. “Where are you?”
I could tell by the glowy mood lighting behind her that she was living her best life. Then again, Tasha’s job as a travel writer meant she spent her days going from one amazing location to the next.
“Do you really want to know?” she teased. “It’s basically paradise.”
“Kansas?” I joked back.
“Close. Bali.”
She flipped her camera to show me the setting sun over a calm blue ocean.
“It’s a job. Anyway, how was your first sail away?” Tasha asked.
I sighed as I considered just how hectic the day had been. “It was…a lot. Some supply snafus and maintenance issues, which are normal on a new ship. The bosshole run-ins, on the other hand, were unexpected.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Shit. I’m sorry. What happened?”
“Where do I even begin? He’s the worst.” I sighed and dropped into one of the child-sized chairs. “Too bad he’s so hot.”
Tasha sputtered out a laugh. “I’m sorry, what?”
“Shit. Did I say that out loud?” I smirked. “Been a long day. Anyway, rather than give you a play-by-play that’ll just get me all worked up again, the headline is that he’s a lot. And his son is cruising with us, so it’s not like I can just avoid him.”
“Oh no. Does he have staff helping?”
“Shockingly, no. The two of them are solo. You’d think a billionaire would have an entire team following his kid around, but apparently, he’s doing it the old-fashioned way.”
“Where’s Mom?” Tasha asked.
I shrugged. “Don’t know, but she’s definitely not in the picture. The poor kid is going through something. He’s really closed off. I started to crack through today, but then Bosshole showed up and shut us down. He’s like the fun police.”
“Damn, girl. All that on day one? Going to be a long ten days.”
“Yeah, I know. I might go overboard if things don’t improve.”
Tasha laughed. “If you do, make sure to swim my way, and I’ll have a Bintang on ice waiting for you.”
“Tempting,” I said.
I closed my eyes and tried to imagine smooth sailing without my bosshole putting a crimp in everyone’s fun, but I couldn’t manage to picture it. Even I’m not that creative.
Rough waters ahead for sure.
3
LOGAN
Day two, and the first port stop was completed with zero issues. Major win.
We’d spent the day docked at Serenity Cay, an exclusive island that was worlds away from most vacation beaches. Most of the guests enjoyed the beautiful white sands, but of course I’d stayed on the ship to work on our media outreach. The marketing team had been keeping me posted with the feedback online—and so far, it was one hundred percent positive.
Thankfully, there hadn’t been a single mention of expletive-spewing children. Another win.
Speaking of children…I glanced to where Noah was curled up in a swivel chair across from me, furiously swatting at his iPad screen. We were having a mellow evening in our suite, but my hopes for a father-son hang had evaporated the second he picked up his tablet.
He looked so much younger than his six years now, like the trauma of what he’d been through had regressed him. It sure haddone a number on our relationship, but I was confident we were on the road to recovery.
“What are you up to, bud?” I asked him.
