“No, he’s doing whatever he wants to right now.” I wave as if it’s casual. I haven’t thought about what he’s up to, but now it’s all I want to think about.
The woman stares at me, and I swear she’s looking right through me. I barely know her, but I have an inkling she’s not someone to mess with.
“I’m Scarlett,” she says as she holds out a hand.
“Maisie.” When I shake hers, her grip is so strong she nearly pulls me off the seat.
“If your friend is busy, I don’t mind being arm candy,” she replies. “I came alone.”
“Wouldn’t you want time to yourself if you came alone? I don’t want to impose.”
“Sometimes it’s nice, but it’s also fun to meet a friend on board, especially one who has such a fun story.”
“It’s not that fun.”
“Did you keep the same suite?” she asked.
“Um, no?”
She laughs. “So, that’s a yes. How awkward is it?”
“A little, but we’re making it work.”
“Interesting,” she replies.
“Do you make a habit of findingfunstories on a boat?”
“I can’t help it, I’m afraid. I’m a therapist and I love a good story.”
Oh, great. I’m getting stared down by a trained professional. This is just my fucking luck.
“I’m afraid I’ll let you down with mine. Nothing’s gonna happen. It hasn’t for nearly two decades.”
“At the very least, we can talk about the guys. I mean, did you see the group of them playing ball in the pool?”
“They were . . . loud.”
“They were hot,” she corrected. “Did you not notice?”
“I did.” I didn’t. I haven’t looked at a man since I met Rob. I didn’t have a reason to.
Until now.
“Somehow I doubt that.” Her tone isn’t judgmental, but soft. “How long were you with your ex?”
“Ten years.”
“It takes a bit to adjust to being single again, you know.”
“I’m guessing you’ve seen it in therapy?”
“I’ve lived it. Contrary to what my friends think, I don’t try to use therapy talk on everyone.” She winces. “Mostly. It slips out. I’m sorry if it has.”
“All you’re doing is reminding me that I need to talk to someone eventually. I have ... problems.”
“Exes will do that to you.”
“How long until I feel normal again?”
