by Vivian Wood
It takes her a second to trace my line of thought. “I wasn’t under the impression that you had an abundance of choices. Am I wrong?”
I give her a steely glare. “That’s not the point.”
“Then what is?” She cocks her head, her blonde hair falling to the side. “Is this about us hooking up?”
I double check to make sure that no one is nearby, then scowl at her. “I don’t want people knowing, okay? It’s not a big deal, but I like to keep my private life just that. Private.”
She’s quiet for a moment, her eyes studying my face. “I don’t know what you think I’m going to do. But I assure you that broadcasting that we both got drunk and slept together is not on my agenda.” She licks her lips, leaning closer to me. “I need this internship, Gabe. It’s really important to me.”
Before I can even think to respond, Malkia shouts my name. “Gabriel Archer Smith! You had better have a good reason for making me go look at the life jackets, because there was not a thing wrong with them!”
Busted. I turn toward where Malkia comes storming up the stairs, then look at Luna. She tosses her blonde hair and rolls her eyes, then starts to descend the steps leading down from the pilothouse to the main deck. I can’t stop myself from noticing her ass in that tight little pencil skirt as she navigates her away down.
Fuck. Luna being on my crew for any length of time is such a bad idea. I blow out a breath, reminding myself that I made this mess.
I can’t have Malkia or my father know that I broke my state of mourning for a cute blonde. That will send the wrong message, tell them and everyone else that I don’t treasure Michelle the way that she deserves.
Well, maybe she doesn’t deserve it. But it’s a point of contention between my family and me now, for better or for worse. If anyone knows that I couldn’t keep up my deeply felt mourning for a whole year, I will look weak.
I can’t have that. Not even a whisper or a hint of the affair can come to light.
So when Malkia comes raging up the stairs, I just shrug at her. “The life vests were a mess. One of the new recruits must have fixed them already.”
She puts her hands on her hips, her gaze narrowing on my face. Malkia has an amazing knack for knowing when I am full of shit. And this is no exception.
“Do I want to know why you sent me downstairs on a mission meant for a fool?” she demands to know. “Please tell me that you had a good reason, Gabe.”
I hesitate for a few seconds. One part of me just wants to admit that I had a fling to my sister, my closest confidante.
My hesitation makes her impatient. She throws her hands up. “I do not understand you at all, Gabriel. This is just like when I found out that you had been lying about Michelle. You are too honest a person to be a good liar. I can smell it all over.”
My face heats. “It isn’t the same at all. And I only lied about what I found out that Michelle had been doing because I had to. Most of it was illegal!”
She shakes her head in disbelief. “I do not care, Gabe! I am your sister. You can tell me anything about your life. Anything. You understand?”
I hesitate again, meeting her gaze. I want to tell her. Really I do. But I don’t.
“Yeah,” I just say. I drop my arms to my sides, struggling not to clench my fists. “I understand. But that has nothing to do with the life jackets. Okay?”
Malkia’s eyes hover over my face for several more seconds. Then she abruptly drops it. “Fine. You do not want to tell me, that is fine. I should go home anyway. I do not want to miss dinner.”
I let a sigh slip out that I didn’t know I was holding in. “Sounds good. I’ll lock up everything here. You should go enjoy Mom’s food while you can.” I force a smile. “Once we are out on the sea, we don’t even know if the food will be edible. I just hope that Dad tasted the new chef’s food first instead of being too cheap to shell out for a meal.”
Warmth comes back into Malkia’s eyes. She smiles. “You are too right, brother. You’re not coming, I would guess?”
A smile on my lips, I shake my head. “Sorry, but no. I’ll come back to the house when Mom apologizes for being such a witch when I announced my engagement.”
She rolls her eyes, turning to head down to the main deck. “That happened almost two years go. You should get over it, Gabe.”
She starts down the steps. I cup my hands around my mouth and call out. “I’ll apologize as soon as she does!”
I hear Malkia’s low chuckle as she leaves but she doesn’t say anything more. I walk to the front of the boat, dropping into the captain’s chair with a sigh. Looking out over the quiet sea, I ruminate to myself.
Chapter Six
Luna
“Wait wait, wait.” Cate waves her chopsticks in the air and cocks her head, her dark hair pinned back. She’s beautiful and graceful and soft-spoken… I can understand why my brother Luca decided that he had to marry her. “You’re saying that you applied for the internship, you wowed the interviewer, and then… your Vegas hookup walked in the door?”
I push my takeout container of sushi away and make a face. “Yep. His name, it turns out, is Gabriel Smith. And he’s every bit as sexy as my hazy drunk memories made him out to be. God, he’s really ridiculously good looking. He has cheekbones for days. And don’t even get me started on his eyes… they are just this perfect shade of light blue-green…”
“Hmm,” she says, amused. “Sounds like a good match for you.”
Cate leans closer to her container of food, selecting another roll and popping it in her mouth. She closes her eyes for a minute, making a mmm sound that I’m almost certain she makes when she’s having sex.
Luckily we are just having a little lunch at the Attic before the bar opens to the public. So Cate can make all the lewd noises she feels like and no one is even around.
I set my chopsticks down on the bar, leaning back in my chair and quirking a brow. “Is it really that good?”
Cate’s eyes open. Blushing, she swallows. “Yes. And don’t change the subject. Basically you are going to be stuck on a boat with this super hot guy. Am I getting that right?”
My lips press into a thin line. “Yeah, that’s the job title.”
Cate gives me a bright smile. “Well, that’s great. This could be a great opportunity for you. If you two are on a boat together, with cramped quarters, there is almost zero chance that you can avoid getting to know him.” She picks up her soda, taking a sip. “I think that’s been your problem with dating lately. The second that someone gets too close, you dump them and move on.”
Brushing a hand down my skin tight hunter green velour dress, I pull a funny face. “Oh, that’s what my problem is? I don’t remember asking you but thanks so much for solving it for me, Cate.”
She pauses, frowning. “I’m sorry, what exactly would you say I got wrong there?”
“Well…” I sigh. “I don’t think I’m looking for something really deep and meaningful. After dating several men who turned out to be total bastards, I just… I like things light and fluffy now. Casual with a capital C.”
Cate tosses her cheap chopsticks down, looking dissatisfied. “I know one thing. You’ve wanted to start a family ever since I’ve known you, Luna. And this casual with a capital C thing you’ve been doing? That isn’t how you get one.”
I blanch and look down at my stilettos. “That just isn’t a priority right now. With med school to consider, I’m not even in the market for that kind of guy.”
Cate crosses her arms and raises a brow. “You mean a real guy who treats you well? The kind of guy who comforts you when you’re sad and celebrates your victories with you? That kind of guy?”
I flush. “You know what I mean. The guy I’m talking about who will love me no matter what… whether I can have his children or not.” My jaw tightens. My shoulders grow tense. “That kind of guy is rarer than you know.”
Cate leans over and wraps her arms around me. “You have plenty of time. I’m sorry if I made you feel
rushed. I know that when the time is right, you’ll find someone great.”
Her hug is a comfort. Tears prick my eyes.
When my brother’s business partners Bradford and Owen come in from the back though, it’s a relief to change the subject.
“Bradford!” I call out. “How’s tricks?”
Bradford adjusts the collar of his shirt. He’s wearing all black and he looks thinner than usual. He poses for a second, using his hands to frame his face.
“Fabulous,” he whispers theatrically. Then he picks up a bar apron, putting it around his neck. “This diet is almost over and then I’m ready for my close up, Mr. Deville. Thank the Lord cause I’m hungry as fuck.”
Owen eyes him. “Told you that you should have eaten more than a salad at lunch.”
Owen scoots his big body behind Bradford’s lithe form, moving around him to get to the closest cash register. Bradford is the bar manager of my brother Luca’s little trio of bar owners slash best friends. His blond hair is carefully coiffed as opposed to Owen’s gruffly combed ginger hair, which honestly could use a little work. That’s Owen’s thing though; he wears denim shirts and jeans. He seems to put very little work into his appearance.
It’s a good thing that he’s freckled and muscular, because he’s kind of a mess otherwise. Unlike Bradford, who obviously cares a great deal about his appearance and always looks like he’s just comes from the gym.
Bradford scrunches up his face.
“Like you even know anything about trying to slim down. When you’re not here you’re either running an ultramarathon or eating a steak the size of your own face.” He makes a long-suffering expression. “All I want is to be over thirty and eat whatever I want and not gain a pound. Is that so hard?”
He looks around, his gaze landing on me. I shrug.
“Don’t look at me. I haven’t eaten whatever I wanted since I was eight. My mom started to worry that I wouldn’t look good in the bathing suit she bought for me, so she put me on the same diet plan that she was on.” I drum the bar with my hands. “That was the beginning of the end, my friends.”
Owen grunts. “You guys should try ultramarathons. They’ll keep you fit as a fiddle.”
“No way,” Bradford says.
“Noooo,” Cate announces. “No thanks.”
Bradford looks at Owen, who is adjusting the cuffs of his white button up shirt. “Hey, how did your date go last night?”
Owen scowls. “It didn’t. After fifteen minutes, we realized we had absolutely nothing in common. I was at home and in bed by dark.”
He wrinkles his nose. I wiggle my eyebrows at him.
“Are you finally going to call Chloe and tell her you are desperately in love with her, then?”
“You really should,” Cate chimes in.
“Well, I think that’s my cue to head to my office.” Owen rolls his eyes. “See you guys later.”
I check the time on my phone, then slide out of my seat. “I should actually go too. I have to figure out what the hell I should pack to be a medic on a luxury yacht.” I turn to Cate, picking up my trash. “I’ll see you sometime this week before I leave on my trip, right?”
Cate nods. “Definitely. You know where to find me.”
“Catch you guys later,” I say, flashing Cate and Bradford a peace sign. Grabbing my purse, I hustle down the back hallway, stopping to throw my trash out.
As I let myself out of the building, exiting into the parking lot, my phone rings. I fish it out of my purse, frowning at the screen as I climb into my Mercedes.
It’s a video call, but I don’t recognize the number. The area code is 206, which is the exchange for Seattle.
I answer it, expecting it to be a butt dial or something. But a very handsome man with well-coiffed blond hair and an expensive suit is on the other end. He smiles widely.
“Luna Leone?” His voice is surprisingly high pitched.
“Yes?” I ask. He looks familiar, but I can’t place him.
“Dr. Fletcher Montgomery,” he identifies himself. “I work at Washington University School of Medicine. Specifically, I’m in charge of placing medical interns such as yourself with residents.”
My eyes widen. This is exactly why I took the summer internship; I need people like dr. Montgomery on my side. “Oh! Hi, Dr. Montgomery. Umm… what can I do for you?”
His smile grows sly. “I heard that you have recently found employment for the summer with a yacht charter company.”
My heartbeat picks up. “Yes, sir. I just took a job with Aurora Borealis Charters. It was the very last spot.”
“Just so.” He smiles tightly. “It just so happens that my good friend Gabe works at that company. Great guy, that rascal.”
Something about this conversation makes my stomach flip flop. “Yes, I… I met him yesterday. He seems… nice?”
It comes out as a question rather than a statement. Dr. Montgomery nods sagely.
“Well Gabe and I go way back. His fiancée introduced us, God rest her soul.”
I frown. What in the world does that mean?
He looks remote for a moment, then continues. “Anyway, I need a favor. And in return, I will make sure that you get your pick of candidates for the resident that will lead you in the fall.”
My eyebrows creep up. “Like… any resident? Whoever I like the most?”
He gives me a dazzling smile. “Whatever makes you happy. As long as I get what I ask you for, that is.”
My heart clangs around in my chest. “And what’s that, exactly?”
“It’s simple. We have been racing our yachts together for years, you see. We are going to compete again in the end of summer. I just need to know his exact route plan for the Highbourne Pointe Regatta.” His smile widens. “I just like to know what my friends are up to.”
My brow hunches. “You want me to… like, spy on him? I don’t even know what a route plan or whatever is, if I’m honest with you.”
Dr. Montgomery’s face zooms in close. I move my head back even though he’s not physically here. I have the worst feeling about Dr. Montgomery, like he’s definitely trying to pull one over on me or something.
“The route plan will be drawn out on a map. I just need a picture of it. Like I said, it’s a very simple request.” His lips quirk.
“When would I…” I wrinkle my nose. “You know, procure a copy for you.”
“He’ll be working on it still. Right up until the race, I’d wager. So he will have it on board the yacht you’re working on. See, I’ve thought of everything.” He smiles coldly.
I bite my lip. “I don’t know… I mean… it kind of sounds like you are asking for something that will give you an advantage in the regatta.”
“Pssh.” He poo-poos my idea, waving his hand. “Not at all. Like I said, it’ll just help me to prepare. Clearly you have no clue about boats because otherwise you would realize that what I’m asking for is for safety.” He rolls his eyes. “I am a doctor, Luna.”
Exhaling, I shake my head. “I’m sorry, Dr. Montgomery. It sounds like you want me to help you cheat.”
Immediately, the smile drops from his lips. His voice rises in pitch and his face contorts with anger. “Do not fuck with me, little girl. Do this very simple and quite reasonable thing I asked you. Take your reward. Otherwise… well, let’s just say that you don’t want to know what happens otherwise.”
I give him a questioning look. “Are you threatening me?”
“Not at all,” he says smoothly.
“That’s not really what it sounds like. Besides, how do you even know that I’ll be able to get his private drawings and stuff?”
Dr. Montgomery cocks his head. “You’re smart and relatively attractive. You’ll figure something out.” He pauses. “But I will need it the second you get the chance. You grab a picture with your phone. You send it to me. In the fall, you will be massively rewarded.”
“It doesn’t sound like I have much alternative,” I say, my eyes narrowing.
And just like that, he hangs up on me. I’m still slightly openmouthed, trying desperately to figure out what I just said yes to.
My future boss wants me to sneak him copy of the route plan that my current boss plans to take on some regatta. Dr. Montgomery says it’s for safety, but I’d bet all the money I have that he and Gabe aren’t actually friends at all.
What in the world?
Starting my Mercedes, I pull out of my parking spot, my head still spinning.
Chapter Seven
Gabe
The flashes of light across the dance floor. The impatient throb of music, so loud that I can feel the vibrations moving up through my feet. There is a smell here, rising off the tightly packed dance floor.
It smells like perfume and aftershave, and underneath that, there is a baser scent. One of sweaty exuberance and the blending together of bodies.
It reminds me very much of the scent of sex. As I stand on a balcony above the crowd, that scent is slowly driving me a little insane. Dresses sparkle when the lights hit them, people pull their dance partners just a fraction closer. Women throw their arms up; men grind their lower bodies in a gyrating, pulsating beat. Everyone is entranced, moving in time to the persistent throbbing of the bass.
I shouldn’t be here. Not in Las Vegas. Not in this dance club.
Michelle only died three months ago. I’m still deep in mourning. But yesterday I found out that Michelle owed money to some very bad people. Money that they still expected, despite her death.
And I also found out that Michelle paid a little bit of her debt off by doing porn.
My fists clench. I watch the dancers below, but I have no inclination to join them. After all, I only came to Las Vegas to pay off the men that Michelle never managed to get even with.
Tipping my head back, I empty my glass of whiskey down my throat. I’m so angry with her. Sad too.