Page 65 of Fake it With Me

“So tell me,” I said. “How did you get into studying sea life? What made you want to spend your life thinking about whales?”

She smiled, swirling her wine. “I grew up on the coast of Oregon, this tiny town called Garibaldi. My parents fought a lot.” She stopped and corrected herself. “Actually, that’s putting it mildly. They fought constantly. Screaming matches, throwing things, the whole dramatic mess. When the divorce finally happened, I wasn’t sad. I was relieved. Until they started acting like they were in high school again. Anyway, I spent a lot of time at the beach to get away from it all.”

“That sounds rough.”

“It was. But the ocean became a refuge for me. It was a place where nothing mattered except the waves and the birds and occasionally spotting seals or sea lions. I would spend hours out there, just watching, and I felt more at peace than I ever did at home.” She took a sip of wine. “When it came time for college, marine biology just made sense. I wanted to understand the thing that had saved me, in a way.”

“And whales specifically?”

“On one of our family vacations, we went to Anacortes. We were on a whale-watching cruise and of course my parents were arguing. I got to see my first whale. And I was hooked. I had never seen anything so beautiful and powerful and completely indifferent to human drama. And I thought, that’s what I want to study.”

“I’m sorry your childhood was like that.”

“It’s okay. It made me who I am.” She smiled and then took another sip. “What about you? How does someone become a yacht builder?”

I sat back, thinking about how to explain it. “The first time I ever felt free in my life was when I took my first boat out by myself. I was nineteen, had just bought this piece of shit motorboat with money from my first real job. It barely ran, leaked like crazy, but when I got it out on the water?” I stopped, remembering that feeling. “Everything else disappeared. All the pressure from my parents about college, about my future, about being responsible. Out there, it was just me and the ocean and this sense of possibility.”

“So you wanted to give that feeling to other people.”

“Exactly. I started with small repairs, working my way up to custom builds. Turned out people liked what I made. Boats that were beautiful but also functional. Things took off faster than I expected.”

“And now you’re a billionaire with your own yacht line.”

“Now I’m a billionaire with his own yacht line,” I agreed. “Though most days I still feel like that nineteen-year-old kid with the leaky motorboat.”

She smiled. “I like that kid.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. He sounds like he had his priorities straight.”

Our food arrived, and we ate slowly, savoring it. The scallops were perfectly seared, the halibut flaky and delicate. Everything was perfect. The food, the wine, the conversation, her.

“There’s a launch party this weekend,” I said as we were finishing our meal. “For the first yacht from my new line. It’ll be at the club, lots of clients and industry people.”

She nodded. “I should probably get another dress. I don’t want to wear the same one.”

“Of course,” I replied. “I can have George take you into the city or just look online and they’ll deliver it.”

She laughed. “Just use your name?”

“Damn straight,” I said.

“I’ll do it first thing in the morning.”

I could tell by her expression she was not looking forward to the idea of going. I didn’t blame her.

“It won’t be like that cocktail party. I’ll make sure security keeps the photographers away, and you’ll actually know some people this time. And Sasha won’t be there.”

“Darek, I’d go even if it was going to be terrible. Because I want to be there for you.”

“Thank you.”

After dinner, I didn’t want the evening to end. “Want to walk on the beach? There’s a path from the restaurant down to the shore.”

“In these heels?”

“I’ll carry you if I have to.”