“I wanted to go for a swim.”
I watch the expression on his face morph from concerned to furious.
“Are you serious? You didn’t think to alert anyone? What if we’d started the engine?”
“We’re at anchor,” I tell him, suddenly realizing why this might have been a bad idea. “And I saw Matthew and Steven swimming. I’m sorry. I didn’t think?—“
“No, youdidn’t. What if there had been reef down there? You could have gotten yourself killed.”
The disdain in his tone is as palpable as the sea air. I feel my cheeks reddening. He wouldn’t dare speak to any of the Warrens like this—Matthew and Steven were swimming in the same spot only minutes ago. But because he thinks I’m some worthless tagalong, he has no problem treating me like a second-class citizen.
I’m having enough trouble as it is fitting in with the Warrens. The last thing I need is some overpaid lifeguard reminding me I don’t belong.
“I said I’m sorry,” I spit. “But I’m a good swimmer—I don’t need rescuing. I didn’t at the beachand I certainly don’t now.”
Caleb’s nostrils flare noticeably, the etched worry lines on his forehead deepening.
“Oh, sorry,” I say, my tone as fake and sweet as a packet of Splenda. “I forgot I’m supposed to pretend I don’t remember that,Captain.”
I’m almost shocked as the quip comes out of my mouth. Where is this sudden ferocity coming from? Where is the Stella who shrinks behind large objects to avoid conflict?
Whoever this version of me is, I like her.
“I’m not pretending anything,” he growls. “You—you caught me off guard earlier.”
“I caughtyouoff guard? You told me you were a First Mate!”
“And you told me you were on vacation with a friend! When you work on a ship like this, it’s not safe to advertise it. If I told you I was the captain, you’d have asked me all sorts of questions I’d have to lie about.”
“Doesn’t seem like lying is an issue for you,” I say caustically.
“I wasn’t—” Caleb’s stock-perfect face looks almost flustered. Apparently the honorable captain doesn’t like being called a fraud.
He takes a heated breath and tries again, this time softer.
“I wasn’t expecting you to show up on board.”
“Oh, really?” snarky Stella snaps back. “Because I was totally planning it all along. In fact, I’ve been tracking your movements for weeks. I woke up one day and thought to myself, wouldn’t it be fun to have a dozen sharp objects ripped out of my foot by a self-important sea captain?”
Caleb scoffs.
“I’m sorry, am I not giving you enough attention?” he prods back. “Is that why you’re intent on endangering yourself and taking upmytime?”
“I—” I start, but the comeback doesn’t materialize in my mouth. I can feel old Stella coming back; shame creeping up into my cheeks to replace the bravado that so briefly lingered there.C’mon, Stella!I can practically hear Marianne cheering.Stick it to him!
“Sorry to be the one to break it to you,” he says, regaining his composed tone, “but I’m not your friend, I’m your captain. And in case you’re too busy causing trouble to notice, this isn’t a party boat. My priority is keeping the guests and the Vela Bianca safe.”
Ass.I push past him, grabbing a towel from the bench and wrapping it around myself protectively before starting towards the steps.
“Don’t worry,” I quip in the most poisonous tone I can muster. “You’re in no danger of coming across as anyone’s friend.”
I watch his face flush with anger, and I feel a wave of self-satisfaction at getting a rise out of the unflusterable Captain.My pissed-off tone is about as mature as that of a fourth grade boy who’s just learned how to spell the word “penis”. But if Caleb thinks I’m backing down just because he’s in uniform, he’s sorely mistaken.
Don’t trip,I command myself as I march away. How dare he throw his inexcusable behavior back in my face? I look to the bags of snorkel equipment neatly stacked on the deck and try to calculate how hard I’d have to swing one to knock Caleb overboard. What’s the punishment in Fiji for murder by swim fin?
My graceful exit loses some points when I have to wave my hand in six different directions to get the salon doors to open. I can’t believe all this time I’ve been stressing about how snobby the Warrens would be—with their designer flip flops and seemingly endless knowledge of boat terms (what in the hell does leeward mean, anyway?)—when it’s their precious captain I should have been worried about.
Caleb, yachting prodigy or not, is a bully. And if there’s anything I know about bullies, it’s that the only way to stop them is to remain casually unphased.
