I meet her eye, unable to hide my surprise. “Wait, really?”
“Yeah. You were honest. I told you—that’s important to me. And I’ve already vetted you. I know your analytics are solid. You clearly didn’t buy a bunch of bots. Our other girls have way more engagement and sponsorships, but truthfully, 50K followers for a book influencer isn’t bad. Especially on Instagram, which is strugglingto keep up with the newer apps. And we can help you level up. In return, you bring a…diversity I think our group needs.”
I pull back slightly. “Diversity? I’m white.”
“But not straight,” Viv says bluntly. “And your look.” She gestures to my short hair, the black and gray botanical sleeve tattoos that cover both my arms. “It’s something we’re lacking. I want people to take us seriously. Not think we’re a bunch of Insta thots partying all day long. Your vibe would help with that.”
I can’t decide if this is a backhanded compliment or not. “Uh, okay.”
“So, do you want to join us?”
I gape. “Really? You’re offering me the job? Right now?”
A paid position living on a luxury yacht docked off a private island in the Keys with a group of other influencers. Was this happening? I hoped, of course, but I hadn’t let myself think it was actually possible. The last time I did that, my lifelong dream was crushed like a flower petal under a combat boot.
As if summoned, the gilded, embossed title ofA Song of Scales and Saltglints in my peripheral vision. The woman who was reading it earlier has left her table, the book tucked against her chest as she moves to the door. There’s a dreamy expression on her face.
My abdomen clenches.
The woman’s forearm doesn’t quite cover the author’s name, and I stare as it passes me by, standing out against the blue scales: SAGETARTNET.
“I think you’d be a great fit,” Viv says, pulling my attention back to her smiling face. The woman holding the book disappears out the door behind her. “I don’t like wasting time. You’re here, your shit is here, my boat is in the harbor. Ligia Island is forty minutes away. You said you need the money. Why wait? You in, or what?”
Chapter 2
The spray from the boat’s wake mists over my sweaty face, and I’m grateful for it, because it lets me know this isn’t a dream.
“We’ll deal with the paperwork once we’re onEmpress,” Viv had told me back at the café after I dazedly accepted her offer. “We’re basically contractors for Royal Yachts, Trey’s company. So, you’ll have to sign a few things, but we can get you started right away. After you’re settled we can meet to discuss elevating your content.”
“You said on our Zoom call that I’d have to host on theEmpresspage too?”
“Uh-huh. It’s easy. There’s six of us, so we each host on theEmpressInsta and TikTok accounts one day a week. Sunday we recycle older content that did well, so no worries there. You’re replacing the girl who did Wednesday. Hype up the yacht. Goal is to get eyes on Trey’s business so he can start chartering and sellingthese babies. Don’t worry, I’ll give you a full rundown and set of guidelines once you’re settled.”
“I didn’t plan for this at all. I only have enough clothes for a long weekend,” I said. “And I didn’t bring any books. Which is, you know…pretty important for my page. And I need to deal with my apartment. My landlord is super close to evicting me. I’ve been late on the past two rent payments.”
Viv had laughed, like my troubles were mere nuisances. “Don’t even worry about it! We can have whatever you need shipped to Islamorada, and one of our people will bring it toEmpressfrom there. Trey is good to his girls. We’ll continue to pay rent at your old apartment until we can figure something else out. And I’m sure you’ll go home for Thanksgiving at the end of the month, right? You can get anything else you need then. Relax, girl, you’re a Royal Yacht Queen now. It’ll all get taken care of.”
“But what—”
“Char! Babe, relax!” She had leaned forward and tapped a finger against my collarbone. “You made it. The hard part is over. The rest is a dream come true.”
It wasn’t, of course. If it were a dream come true, I would be the one with the bestselling novel and Sage wouldn’t be dead.
It might not be a dream, but it was progress, and I couldn’t deny that I needed this. Desperately.
“Almost there,” Viv calls out over the roar of the motor underneath us. Her ride is a souped-up speedboat with barely enoughroom for the two of us and the thick, burly guy she calls Captain Zap. “That’s Ligia.” Viv points at a smear of green and white directly ahead of us.
“You have to do this every time you go into town?” I ask, my words whipped to her by the wind.
She grins. “Yeah, but we rarely go onshore. That’s what Mika’s for.” At my look of confusion, she clarifies: “Our chief stew. Don’t worry, it’ll all get taken care of.”
Viv edges closer to me on the hot, white leather seats that are afforded no shade from the blazing sun. My ratty duffel bag is tucked between my legs.
Viv leans in to yell in my ear. “Like I said on our Zoom call, Ligia is a private island. Unlisted too. Otherwise, we’d have lunatics and stalkers camping out on the beach trying to hang out with us onEmpress. It’s pretty deserted. There’s a dock for boats. And a little outpost, a beach house, really, for anyone who needs to stay overnight who can’t fit on the yacht. But besides that, it’s just us. AndEmpress. Which has literally everything a girl could want or need.”
She’s grinning at me with such excitement that I can’t help but smile back.
Viv whips out her phone and angles it toward me.
