by Elyse Riggs
"Yeah," the photographer lady deadpans, "I got it." She lowers the offending camera. "I take it you two already know each other."
I nod at her without looking over at Jake.
"And of course Cara couldn't be bothered to give me a proper heads up on the situation," she's staring at me now. "She knew, too. Didn't she?"
I shrug non-commitally. I'm a lot of things. One of them isn't a rat.
She turns her attention to the other direction. "Thought so. Alright, this is what we're going to do, kids. Handsome, you're up first. I'll shoot you, in the correct spot on the couch."
She turns to me and points off to the right. "There's a green room that way, I'll go get you when it's your turn. Does that work for everybody?"
Chapter 8
Angie
Tonight is the first night of the Pirate Festival. It’s my all-time favorite festival every year. I can already feel a buzz of adrenaline in the air. Technically, it’s called the St. Tropic Buccaneer Festival Invasion and Community Gathering. Yes, it’s a hideous title that’s been amended over the years by pea-brained county commission leaders. But thankfully, nobody calls it that. And it doesn’t matter anyway, because no matter what it’s called it’s fun and it brings the tourists in droves.
I have to admit, I feel a teensy tiny bit guilty for flaking out at my own photo shoot. Hey, with any luck, a picture of me with Jake’s stupid face on a stupid billboard might just help keep my clinic open. I guess then it will have been worth it.
And I pulled it off flawlessly without having to look at or even talk to him. Bonus.
Having the whole ordeal behind me is a relief. That means I can officially enjoy the first night of the festival, which begins officially when the old replica pirate flotilla comes ashore and pretends to threaten the Mayor into giving them the key to the city.
In the distance, I spot the mayor, who is already attracting a crowd. As usual, he has a big shiny gold key hanging on a gaudy lanyard around his neck. On his head, he wears an old timey elaborate crown that looks like it came out of a gumball machine.
I pull up to a parking spot, slip my shoes off, and then cross the sand to join the multitude of volunteers that are helping launch Pirate Festival.
Puppy-thon may have been a disaster, but there's no reason Pirate Festival can't still be fun.
"Aye, matey," a tall man wearing a bandana and eye patch looks up at me as I make it to the perimeter of the portion of the beach where the volunteers are gathering. His nametag says Brad and he's holding a clipboard.
"Angie reporting for duty," I say.
It's kind of childish playing the part of a pirate for a few weeks every year, but it's all in good fun. And later tonight, when the waves in the distance that are filled with boogie, surf, and paddle boards are filled with replica era pirate ships, it'll be spectacular.
It's one of my very favorite St. Tropic traditions and it goes back over a hundred years. Fi, Kaylee, and I have pictures of us together participating in one way or another for five years straight.
The pirate glances down at his clipboard. "Angie, okay here you are. Today, you'll be volunteering under Quartermaster Jake."
I narrow my eyes at him. "What exactly is Quartermaster Jake's last name?"
This has to be some stupid joke. Or maybe it's an entirely different Jake. A nice Jake. A Jake who would never run off on a friend slash lover and not say goodbye. And then show up unannounced without a heads-up years later.
The pirate in front of me breaks into a conspiratorial smile. "Oh, you won't believe me even if I tell you."
"Try me."
"You have to see for yourself," he persists.
"Not a chance." I counter.
His expression falls. "Fine, if you're going to be a pirate party pooper, it's Jake Mann. We're keeping it a big secret so that everybody doesn't find out and then refuse to volunteer for the other Quartermasters." He gives me an iffy look and then checks the clipboard again.
"You're on the special list due to the number of volunteer hours you've logged in the last few years." His face brightens. "Technically, you're Special Pirate Crew First Class Angie now. Congratulations!"
"Well, thank you, but Special Pirate Crew First Class Angie wants to be on a different team."
"You're kidding."
"I'm not." I feel anger pulsing inside. How dare he? This is my happy place.
Jake's been in town one night and he's already fucking in charge of an entire team in Pirate Fest? What the hell? That begs a question. "Hang on, Brad.”
“That’s Cap’n Brad to you.”
I feel my eye twitch. “Okay, Cap’n Crunch Brad. Tell me something. Jake Mann hasn't been here in years. How the fuck was he able to get Quartermaster when people like me give hundreds of hours to the organization every year and I'm just a Special Pirate?"
"Special First-Class Pirate," he corrects.
I cross my arms and give him a dirty look.
Brad shrugs. "Hey, look. I have no idea, I'm just a volunteer myself. If you have questions you should contact the Pirate Board of Directors. They're the ones who make those types of decisions."
"Maybe I will." I have no intention of contacting anyone. I just want to be in my happy place at one of my favorite town events volunteering with my friends. Oh yeah, my friends. "Hey, what team are Kaylee Love and Fiona Hargreaves on?"
"Tortuga." He answers.
"Great," I say, "and who's the Tortuga Quartermaster?"
I see the panic creep into his eyes. "Don't say it," I warn.
"Jake Mann."
"I said not to say it. Well, are Kaylee and Fi already here?"
"Wait," he says, "your friends already got here and transferred out of Tortuga and into Port Royal. That must have happened before my shift."
"Fantastic news, I’m going to join them. So you just write that in your clipboard, okay? Oh, and where are the Port Royal team members right now?"
He points off to his far left, toward where the waves are crashing onto the shore. "They're over there."
"Thank you, Cap’n Brad."
If Fi and Angie chose Port Royal, then they did it for a reason. And I'll join any team if it means not having to look at Jake's face.
I breathe a sigh of relief when I see Fi and Kaylee. Right now, they're deep into sand-castle design negotiations.
"Hi."
"Hi yourself," Fi says, looking up and smiling at me. "We got here first and figured that Tortuga wasn't the place for us this year.”
I sigh. "Thanks for that. First it was Puppy-Thon, then the stupid photo shoot, and now Pirate Fest. I guess Jake’s here to screw up everything I love as fast as he can."
Fi puts her shovel down for a breather. “Oh yeah, and they named Kaylee here ceremonial Quartermaster since the official one didn’t show up."
“Hooray,” Kaylee says sarcastically. “I told those guys I’d help out with the team, but not to expect me to do any official duties.
"Oh hey," Kaylee jumps into the conversation, "how'd the photo shoot go?"
"According to the photographer, she had a toddler calendar last week with clients who were more cooperative."
"Ouch."
I laugh thinking about the last hour and how childish I acted. "It's kind of funny actually. I guess we'll be on a billboard together. But the photographer eventually gave up and shot us each separately."
"I'll call that a win," Fi says, handing me an empty five-gallon bucket. I grab it and head for the shoreline. Kaylee's going to need water. Lots and lots of water. Looks like Fi's on shovel duty providing the sand and I'll be on water duty. All in all, it's a much-needed distraction from Jake.
I fill up the bucket and head back to Fi and Kaylee.
Fi's wearing a cute yellow tank top with cream colored shorts. Her brown hair is pulled back into a loose ponytail.
She dumps a large pile of sand next to Kaylee, who is on her knees forming the shape with her hands. Kaylee's wearing jean shorts and a black tee. Her clot
hes are already wet from the damp sand and water mote surrounding her work-in-progress.
Kaylee's really good at this, she’s the winner three years running. I see the bag with her sculpting kit nearby, but it’s not time for that yet. Right now what's needed is lots of sand and a constant supply of ocean water.
As soon as I deliver the full bucket and grab another nearby empty one, I get a text notification. I check it. "Fuck. Seriously?"
Fi raises an eyebrow at me. "Vet emergency? Me and Kaylee can probably handle sand and water duty on our own if you need to go."
"I wish." I answer.
Kaylee turns and fixes me with a look of concern.
"Hold on,” I object, “I don't mean I wish some poor animal had an emergency, it's just that this is another message from Cara."
Cara: I heard about the photo shoot. Carolyn was not happy.
Me: Trust me, nobody was happy. But it got done.
Cara: Well then, congratulations on surviving a photo shoot.
I shake my head. Cara's a smartass. Normally it's one of my favorite things about her. But not today. Today it's just irritating. I decide to go with it: Thank you.
Cara: Ha-ha. Well, whatever the fuck is going on between you two, you'd better figure it out before tomorrow morning.
Me: Why the hell would we do that?
Cara: Meet and greet. Your vet office. Listen to me, I know you don’t like it, but there's been a LOT of buzz and community interest here with Jake on board, Angie. This is it, it's what you've been waiting for. You're welcome.
I put the phone back in my pocket.
"Uh-oh,” Fi teases, “I know that angry stare. What’s going on? Is it another photo shoot?"
"Worse. Tomorrow morning Jake Mann is going to be at my clinic.”
Chapter 9
Jake
I squint into the distance. It's not hard to spot Angie. I can see her curves and blond ponytail from here. Fi and Kaylee are close by.
Half of my Tortuga team are regularly sneaking peaks in their direction. They're hard to miss. I guess I shouldn't have expected her to walk right over here and volunteer with me.
Well, not with me, under me. Since I’m the Quartermaster. I smirk. Under me, the thought of Angie underneath me flashes through my brain, bringing back memories and making my cock twitch to attention.
Suddenly there's no blood left for my brain cells. I have to try and focus.
If Angie thinks she's going to avoid me forever, then she's mistaken. For fuck's sake, all I want to do is apologize.
For last night. For how I left. For everything. I may have been the one who did the leaving back in the day, but as I stare at her now, I realize that she truly is the one that got away. Somehow, I always thought it was the other way around. I was wrong.
Of course, I’d be lying if I said that apologizing is all I want to do. I notice all over again how her blond hair brushes her breasts when she turns her head. Then she bends over. Now I'm going to need a cold shower. But first I have to find a way to get her attention.
"Hey," I say to a volunteer off to my left, "bring out the cannons."
The kid does a double take. "The cannons, sir?"
"Yes, pirate, the tennis ball cannons. That’s an order."
"It's the first day, sir. I know you're from Phoenix, but that's highly unusual."
"Oh, I'm from St. Tropic, believe it or not. And it's definitely time to run out the cannons."
"Alright," he says as he gets up out of the sand and brushes himself off. "I'll run to the storage shed. Can I ask who it is we'll be blasting?"
I point to where Angie, Fi, and Kaylee are building their sandcastle.
"Oh boy," the volunteer says. "This is going to mean war, you know."
"Yep,” I grin. “I know."
Chapter 10
Angie
Even though I haven't been here long, Fi and Kaylee and I fall into a comforting, familiar sand-castle building routine. We’re making fantastic progress too.
"How's Chase?" I ask Kaylee.
"He's good. The team he owns made the playoffs this year, so he's happy. But he’s been travelling a lot. So it’s mostly been me and Cooper at the beach house."
Cooper's her adorable German Shepherd puppy. Because the way Chase tells it, a team of security guards isn’t enough to guard Kaylee when he isn’t around.
Cooper's a sweetheart to me and Fi, but heaven help anyone who ever dares break into that place. I'm glad she has a furry friend to snuggle with when Chase isn't around.
And I can't help but be a little jealous. She has a man and a furry friend. I'm not only zero for two in that department, my life now feels like it's getting demolished by Jake the steamroller who’s busy demolishing everything in his path. Well, everything being my life. So far, the rest of St. Tropic seems blissfully and annoyingly unaffected.
So yeah, jealous. A little. And happy for her too. I smile in Kaylee's direction, where she's hard at work shaping the soft wet sand. Then I head back down to the water with another empty bucket.
Only the minute my back is turned, I hear an odd and somewhat familiar whistling sound coming from behind me. I glance back to see a wet tennis ball just miss Kaylee's back.
What the fuck? Somebody is shooting cannons at us. On day one? On our team? You’ve got to be kidding me. Somebody wants to get their pirate ass kicked. Nobody messes with our clique.
Fi and Kaylee quickly jump up and huddle behind the giant mass of sand that Kaylee was working into a castle.
Kaylee's face is scrunched up in anger. "If the line I’m working on gets messed up, then so help me God, somebody is going to pay."
She gestures for me to hurry and join them behind the wall of sand before I get smacked in the face with a wet tennis ball going thirty miles an hour.
She's right. I drop the bucket and dive in next to the two of them.
"Can you tell where it's coming from?" Fi asks, risking a peek before ducking back down.
That's when it hits me. I know exactly where the cannon fire is coming from. I stand up.
"No!" Kaylee shouts. "Those things cause ugly bruises, Angie! Get down." Fi pulls me back down.
"I'm sorry, guys, but I know who's cannonballing us."
"Jake," Fi and Kaylee say together.
"Should have known," Fi says. "Alright. Angie, when I give the signal, you grab a bucket of water. Kaylee, you fill a sandbag and sneak up on him from him behind. If he wants a war, we're going to give him one."
I like the plan so far. "What are you going to do, Fi?"
"I'm going to walk right over there and confront him."
Now that's a plan I can believe in. We wait a couple of minutes, knowing that it takes time to reload those machines and gather more wet tennis balls.
As soon as the cannon goes silent, I spring for the bucket and sprint down to the water to refill it. I see Fi march off in the general direction of Jake and his team.
Kaylee grabs a sandbag. It looks heavy, but she's used to it. She heads over to the water’s edge so that she can stay far enough from the fray to get behind Jake and then sneak up on him.
I grab my water and follow Fi. As I make my way across the warm sand, I spot Jake in the distance. He’s pointing and barking out orders like he's a God of War.
He looks the part too with his unbelievably muscled frame, distractingly handsome face, and blond hair that makes me want to run my fingers through it.
Oh no. He's wearing the blue bathing suit. I remember that bathing suit. And now he's bending over. I feel a tingling in my core. I can’t help it.
Both the sight of his super sexy ass and that bathing suit bring back memories. Sadness blends with the anger inside of me. Why did you have to ruin it all, Jake?
I know why. A football career. It was all he ever wanted. All he ever thought about and dreamed about.
All his parents ever talked about. I swear if he hadn't become a pro football player, I think they'd have probably disowned him.
But he was more than just a jock to me. At least he was back then. Back then, the only time he spent not training, thinking about, or playing football was when he was spending time with me.
I was his tutor. And we had been best friends since the second grade. Of course when his parents found out we might be something more, they threw a fit.
And then there was the draft. After that he was gone. I get it, there were millions of dollars at stake and he spent years preparing for it. It was the lack of a goodbye that bothered me the most. And the fact that he never reached out. Like I meant nothing to him.
All of a sudden, I snap out of it and realize that I stopped walking when I saw Jake bend over. Here I am too busy admiring his ass, sculpted abs, and handsome face to do my part of the plan.
I forgot that I’m currently in the middle of a pirate war with Jake.
Fi's sharp voice cuts through the general commotion of volunteers making sandy beach art on a perfect late afternoon. She's really giving it to him.
I have to squint, but I swear I can see Kaylee sneaking up behind the two of them, as planned.
Oh, that means I have to hurry. I have a bucket of water with Jake’s name on it, after all. I force my feet to move. The closer I get the more I can see of the chaos.
Jake's volunteer crew surround him, but judging by the looks on their faces, they have no appetite to take on Fi. Smart.
Even Jake takes a step back from Fi's verbal onslaught as I come into range.
"You idiot,” Fi screams, “you know damn well that Kaylee is the best sand sculpture artist on the beach four years running, and she gets better every year. If I didn't know better, I'd say you guys are trying to sabotage us."
Fi tries to make eye contact with the gathering of twenty-something guys in Jake's crew. They all decide they have other things to look at.
"Pirate," I hear Jake's answer to Fi, "the spirit of this fucking event is literally piracy." He glances around and notices his volunteers have begun to wander off. "Hey, guys come back. Crazy lady here has no idea what she's talking about."