My scheme actually worked? It worked! YES!
“Jesus Christ,” he mumbles.
“No swearing in front of customers,” she says.
“She’s not a customer, Mama. She’s just Josie.” Whee! I’mjust Josie! That probably shouldn’t make me so gleeful, but it does. “And I’m not a boat prostitute for hire.”
“A job is a job,” she says.
“No job is too small,” I remind him.
His mom huffs out a laugh. “Maybe things haven’t changed after all. Forgot that you inherited Diedre’s dry sense of humor.” Don’t tell my mom that; to her, Grandma Diedre is a humorless sack of unbending rules and wrong about everything. “How is your grandmother, by the way? She’s supposed to bring me back a souvenir from Nepal.”
I shrug. “Drinking yak milk and teaching ten-year-old girls to read English. She hasn’t had a hot shower since February.”
“That woman willnotmake it a year out there,” Ms. Karras murmurs. “No offense.”
Ugh.Tick, tick, tick …Ticking time bomb.
I try not to let that scary thought ruin my good mood.
When she holds up a hand to quiet us and answers a ringing phone, Lucky speaks in a hushed, exasperate voice near the sideof my head. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“Renting your services,” I whisper back, feeling a little powerful. Feeling … seductive.
Not in a sexy way. Just a powerful way. I think?
“I’m not for rent.”
“My money says otherwise.”
“Why can’t you just let things be?”
I swing around, and we’rewaytoo close, both of us too stubborn to move. “You shouldn’t have rejected my offer to let me pay you back the normal way. Now I’m renting you out. By the way, I ran into Bunny Perera. She says you’re the sweetest guy in the entire world and a complete angel. Just super-duper wholesome and respectable.” I boop him on the nose where the oil streaks his skin and wipe my finger on his shirt.
His eyes narrow. Oh, he’smad. Seething. Maybe something else.
I should probably be careful. The curse. All that.
But I tell you what. If thisisseduction in a non-sexy way—I repeat, in anon-sexyway—it’s blissfully sweet. Okay, and it could beju-u-u-sta little bit wrong, because he’s my childhood best friend. The tiniest, teeniest bit. Even if it’s not sexy.
Because it’s not. Probably.
But I try not to think about that too much.…
I just smile up at him. “Think I was listening to the wrong gossip about you before. Don’t worry. I’m on the right track now. See you at twilight, captain.”
CAUTION! DEEP WATER. NO SWIMMING OR DIVING: Sign posted in the harbor. The waterline stops at the bottom edge of the sign, making it nearly unreadable from a distance when waves crash.(Personal photo/Josephine Saint-Martin)
Chapter 11
Boy-oh-boy, do I love golden hour. It’s the time either right after sunrise or before sunset when the light outside is great for photography. Everything looks nice and warm, the light is diffused, no harsh shadows. It’s kind of when the planet says,Go on: Take my picture Right now. Let’s remember this moment together.
During a particularly excellent golden hour, while Evie is attending class at community college and Mom is nowhere to be found, I head out to meet Lucky behind his parents’ boatyard. All of the Karrases’ workers are gone for the day, so it’s deserted and quiet back here. And when I spot Lucky on the main dock, his back is to me, shoulders all lined in gold as he stares out over the shimmering harbor water; my pulse goes a little wild.
In a moment of weakness, I give in to the temptation of spectacularly good light, uncap the lens of the camera around my neck, quickly get Lucky in focus, and photograph him. Only a few pictures—just to get warmed up. He’s wearing shorts. So am I, but I haven’t seen Lucky 2.0 in shorts. Or in anything butleather boots, to be honest. But the black low-tops he’s wearing right now sans socks are showing anawfullot of ankle, and I can see those ankles through the lens … and also that his legs are long and leanly muscled like his arms.
But before I can lower my camera, he turns and catches me.
