by Carol Ross
“I see,” Seth chuckled. “There’s a method, too, though, right? I bet if I dumped tea leaves in a pot of water and added some sugar, it still wouldn’t taste like this.”
“There might be a little something to it,” Mémé admitted reluctantly.
“Is it a difficult technique to master? Is it a secret family recipe or one that you could share? I’d love to learn how to make it and teach my mom. She loves sweet tea, but she always says it only tastes right in the South. She spent a semester at Louisiana State University when she was in college. Now I believe her.”
And here we go... Vic watched the tight lines on Mémé’s face begin to soften ever-so-slightly. Mémé firmly believed it took both a discerning palate and superior intellect to recognize superior tea brewing. Not easily impressed, Vic silently amended, except by gratuitous tea flattery.
“I suppose I could give you a crash course.”
Victoria exhaled a soft sigh. Had someone taken Mr. Alaska aside and clued him in on how to win the hearts of her family? Good thing they weren’t the ones judging this competition either. But that just strengthened the question: Why was he going to so much trouble to charm her family?
* * *
THREE GAMES OF horseshoes with Quinn and Scarlett followed by card playing with Scarlett and Corinne, and then dinner with the entire family had yielded Seth precious little in the way of details about Victoria. Aside from more evidence of her carefully concealed dislike for him, that was.
Granted, he hadn’t asked her family anything personal about her. He hadn’t wanted to come across as overly interested, even though his curiosity had officially moved beyond the professional. It bothered him that she didn’t like him; he wasn’t used to people not liking him. That little hiccup notwithstanding, he was having a blast.
After dessert, the women adamantly refused his offer of help with the dishes, so Seth thanked them all and stood to leave.
Corinne, stacking dessert plates, asked Scarlett, “Scarlett, honey, would you go get the basket we put together for Seth?”
“Sure thing,” Scarlett said and scurried toward the kitchen. Returning quickly, she handed him the bundle. “There’s muffins, bread, jam, fruit, milk, hardboiled eggs, cheese and ham. Gram made the muffins and bread.”
“Wow. Thank you so much,” he said. “I’m getting spoiled.” The cabin’s tiny kitchen was stocked with a percolator and coffee, so he assured them he was all set for the morning.
“And once again, thank you, ladies, for everything. I hope I get a chance to repay your hospitality. Maybe that will be soon when you come up to Alaska.”
Scarlett’s face lit with a smile. “Did I remember to put the butter in here?” Stepping closer, she pretended to peek inside the basket and whispered, “There’s something else in there for you, too.”
Seth started to ask what it was, but she shushed him with a wide-eyed look followed by a loud, “Yep, there it is.” Retreating a few steps, she added an enthusiastic, “Good luck tomorrow, Seth.”
“Thank you.”
Still facing him, she added a wink. “But you understand that I can’t wish you more luck than Mama, right?”
“Of course,” he said, and grinned.
Everyone laughed. Even Victoria, who then said, “I’ll walk you out and give you the details about tomorrow morning real quick.”
Outside on the porch, she walked to the stairs before turning and facing him. “So, we’ll meet tomorrow morning around six thirty near the dock. The cooler will be stocked with water and snacks. We’ll come back here for lunch, so don’t worry about packing any of those provisions.” She tipped her head toward his basket.
“I’ll be there. Thanks again for everything. Dinner was out of this world. You have an incredible family. Your daughter is terrific. And Quinn is, too.”
“Thank you,” she said. “Yes, she is. We adore Quinn. He’s a great friend to Scarlett.”
The tight smile was back. The one that precluded him from asking questions. Among the most burning were, How long have you been divorced? Is Scarlett’s father a part of her life? Who taught you to fish? Where is your dad? And your grandfather? How did we get off on the wrong foot? What can I do to change your mind about me?
“Listen, Seth, I, um, I appreciate your kindness toward Scarlett.”
“Well, I appreciate her kindness toward me. I enjoy throwing horseshoes and playing cards. I had a blast. She’s a sweet kid.”
“I understand that. Scarlett is a sweet kid, but she’s also just that, a kid. And that means she doesn’t understand the abstract nature of an invitation like the one you extended.”
“Abstract nature of my invitation?” he repeated carefully.
“Yes—you know, it’s one of those invitations you extend to people that you don’t truly mean. Like when you tell the mean girl who you went to high school with who turned into the mean wife of the mayor ‘Let’s get together real soon’ when you don’t have any intention on following through. You just say it because it sounds nice and pretty.”
“I see,” he returned carefully. “But that’s not what—”
“What my Alaska-obsessed eleven-year-old heard is ‘Alaska’ and ‘fishing’ and ‘I’ll hook you up’ and all of a sudden the vacation of her dreams seems like a real possibility.”
“But it is,” he answered, talking fast, trying to undo this well-intentioned faux pas. “I mean, it could be a real possibility. I can make it happen if you want. This summer even. I would be happy to make arrangements, host you guys myself, show you around, take you fishing. Steelhead guaranteed. Bring Quinn, too, if you want. If you’re not comfortable with that, with me, I mean, then check out my cousin’s website. His name is Bering James. There are some incredible photos on there. I can get you the friends and family discount.”
“Why would you...? You don’t even know us.”
“I know enough.” He circled a hand around, encompassing her and the house. “Kindred spirits here. Real people like me, like my family, who love to fish. Besides, I have a feeling by the end of this thing we’ll know each other a lot better. Maybe we’ll even be friends.” There, he put it out there. Because why wouldn’t she want to be friends with him?
“Okay,” her tone was flat. Her gaze went squinty, skeptical. “I’m not sure what your strategy is here. Brewing tea and befriending my family isn’t going to help you get the job, you know that, right?”
“Are you being serious right now?” Up until now, Seth had been patient. But now she was just being difficult. “You think I’m being nice to your family, to your grandmother, to your child because it could somehow help me get this job?”
Her shrug suggested she couldn’t imagine any other reason.
“The Romeo Reels people aren’t even here yet.” He gestured helplessly around at nothing. “That doesn’t even make sense.”
“Maybe not,” she conceded insincerely. “But I don’t understand—” She clipped off the rest of the sentence, her expression suggesting it pained her even to be standing here with him much less having this conversation.
“Victoria, I’m not sure what you’re afraid of exactly, but I don’t have any ulterior motive here.”
“I am not afraid,” she said, but with an edge, and Seth knew he’d nailed it. What was she afraid of, though? He couldn’t begin to imagine.
She sighed. “Look, maybe you are truly just a nice guy.” Her tone told him she believed that couldn’t possibly be true. She was good at that, making a statement while implying the opposite. “If that’s the case, I’ll be straight with you about a few things. Number one, if I could afford to take Scarlett to Alaska, I would.”
It was her turn to gesture around. “As I mentioned earlier, and by now I’m sure you’ve confirmed for yourself, Bayou Doré, while a wonderful and special locale and an angling paradise, is essentially a small rustic campground. A five
-star resort it is not.
“Bringing me to my next point, I am a single mom who lives with her mother and grandmother. The why in that should be obvious considering what I just revealed.” She inserted a deliberate pause as if to give him time to catch up. “I’m telling you this so that you understand that I am not in this competition to make friends.”
He knew he needed to be careful about how he responded to that. Part of him wanted to give her a shrug and a “Fine, whatever” and walk away, but he sensed that’s what she wanted. Another part—the bigger part, evidently—wanted to win her over. There was so much about her that intrigued and interested him, including this fiery, determined-not-to-like-him side.
Patiently, he crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m not in this to make friends either, but why can’t that be something that happens?”
Ignoring the question, she stated, “I plan to win.”
“So do I.”
“I am deadly serious. I am going to do whatever it takes to get this job.”
“Me too.”
“Fine. Good. Then we’re on the same page. The way I see it, even if we were already friends, at the end of this thing, we couldn’t possibly still be friends, so why start now?”
CHAPTER FOUR
SETH OPENED THE door of his cabin where he was greeted by a waft of balmy morning air already thick with humidity. The choir of chirps and tweets and buzzes from the myriad of unidentifiable insects and birds was almost shockingly loud. And so very different from what he was used to. Slipping off the top layer of fleece he’d impractically donned, he tossed it back into his room, and then took a moment to get his bearings.
This was it. The first day of competition was about to begin. A coil of nervous energy gathered inside of him, surprising in its intensity. He tried to pinpoint the source.
The fact that he’d never fished for largemouth bass didn’t bother him. He’d done his homework, and he’d gone after plenty of other unfamiliar species to know that he’d adjust. Objectively, he was the most skilled angler he knew. In this case, he planned to use a lack of experience to his advantage; impress the Romeo Reels reps with how quickly he picked up the skill. So, yeah, the fishing he could handle. Then why did he feel...off?
Maybe it was the conversation with Victoria the evening before. He’d stewed about it for too long into the night and then hadn’t slept well. Suggesting that he was being kind to her family to somehow get a leg up in this competition was insulting. And, ridiculous.
And he didn’t agree that because they were competing for the same job, they couldn’t also be friends. People did it all the time; coworkers vying for a promotion, salespeople competing for accounts, professional athletes for a starting position on the team, students for the top grade. The list was endless. Now, here he was, starting off the most important day of his life all tired and irritable.
Walking the path toward the dock, he couldn’t help but think about snakes—thank you very much, Quinn. Head down, he trod carefully even though the area was illuminated from the glow of mercury vapor lights strategically hung from nearby trees and posts. Nearing the dock, he discovered that Victoria was already there and conversing with two people who he assumed were the Romeo Reels representatives.
“Hey, Seth,” she called with a jovial tone and a wave.
Hmm. Apparently, they could be friendly but not friends? Whatever, he thought grumpily, but cheerfully returned the greeting.
Tipping her head back, she laughed at a remark he wasn’t close enough to hear, and he couldn’t help but note how the sound of her laughter was as pleasing as her voice. Her reddish-brown hair was pulled back into another messy bun with loose strands framing her face. Like him, she was wearing shorts, and he admired her long, shapely legs. She might not want to be his friend, but she couldn’t stop him from appreciating her beauty, now could she?
Probably, he should let this go. Certainly, he needed to focus on the day before him. She might be in this competition to win, but so was he. And there hadn’t been many times in Seth’s life where he’d set his mind on winning or being the best that he hadn’t succeeded.
A woman stepped forward as he closed the distance. “Good morning,” she called cheerfully. Medium height, she looked fit with sculpted shoulders that were nicely defined in a snug, long-sleeved T-shirt. She’d paired the top with lightweight cargo pants, and her feet were encased in sporty water shoes. A long black braid fell over one shoulder. She reached out a hand to shake. “You must be Seth. I’m Marissa Rivas.”
“Nice to meet you, Marissa,” Seth said. “Sorry about your flight issues yesterday.”
She flipped a breezy hand through the air. “Yeah, well, it was a bummer, but not much we can do about bad weather except complain, right? I’m glad you decided to head here instead of waiting around the airport for us.”
“Me too,” Seth confirmed. “It’s been fun. This place is incredible. Victoria and her family are excellent hosts.”
Glancing at Victoria, he found the warm smile still in place. Evidently, she was performing for a new audience now.
“Gerard Drewson,” the man introduced himself with a firm handshake. Gerard was a few inches shorter than Seth’s six-foot-two with a stocky build and the thickly muscled neck of a wrestler. He wore a pair of long shorts, T-shirt, mesh sneakers and a baseball cap emblazoned with the Romeo Reels logo. He sported a thick, neatly trimmed beard of red that was a few shades lighter than the hair showing beneath the cap.
They chatted for a few minutes before Gerard said, “I think we’re about ready to get going here. We just have a few things to tell you guys before we head out on the water.”
“Okay,” Seth replied. Victoria nodded.
“So, you might be surprised to hear what we have in store for this phase of the selection process. We’re not interested in straight-up tournament competition like you may have been anticipating. We’re not going to keep track of who catches the biggest fish or who lands the most fish or hooks which types of species. This isn’t a fishing derby. This is about technique, adaptability, finesse and how you handle certain situations.”
Pausing to look pointedly from Victoria to Seth, he continued, “Our next Romeo Reels spokesperson will go on to experience a variety of angling conditions, both unfamiliar and familiar. Like you will be doing today, Seth. While Vic, you’ll be in your comfort zone. We want you both to know that we are aware of this. And we are also very aware that this makes the experience different for each of you. That’s what we’re interested in—how each of you handles this unique experience. The conditions will change again next week when Victoria travels to Minnesota and joins Henry on his turf, and then when Seth hosts Henry in Alaska. Marissa, you want to add anything?”
“I do,” Marissa said, inhaling deeply and then addressing them both. “I’d like to expound a bit on Gerard’s point about how you guys perform in these situations. At this stage in the process, you’ve already proven your angling skills. We know that all three of you can catch fish. We know that you’re all used to winning and being the best. Don’t get me wrong—knowledge and skills are important, and showing us that aspect is a factor, too. But this job is going to entail more than just knowing how to use our gear. Our next spokesperson is going to be the face of Romeo Reels for at least the next three years. Sure, it’s about promoting our brand. But you are also selling yourself. So essentially, what we’re looking for is an element beyond skill.” She paused for a moment to let that sink in.
“Who loves fishing the most? We can’t truly judge that, can we? But what we can judge is who conveys that passion in the most appealing way. In a way that others will want to share. With all that being said, you might be reeling right now, forgive my pun, because this might not be exactly what you were expecting. My advice is to just be yourselves. Let your personality shine through. We want to see the person fishing at this stage, as much as we want to see
that person catching fish. Maybe more.”
Reeling was putting it mildly, Seth thought, as the morning’s twinge of uncertainty erupted into a full-blown bout of anxiety. How was he supposed to compete for something so...intangible? He’d been fully prepared to prove that he was the best angler. But he had no idea how to gauge his success within these subjective parameters.
Victoria, on the other hand, appeared not only unfazed by the news, she looked elated.
“All right then,” she said with a bright smile. “If y’all want to climb on board, I’m going to take you fishing.”
* * *
“RIGHT OVER THERE,” Victoria said once they were on the lake and slowly puttering along. One hand remained on the wheel while the other drifted off to the right. “Is where I lost the big one.”
“Ouch,” Gerard said sympathetically. “Why do we always remember the one that got away?”
“Well, in this case, it was a very expensive loss.”
“Bass?” Gerard asked while Seth wondered the same thing, thinking maybe she lost a tournament here.
“Camera,” she returned dryly.
“A what? A camera?” Marissa repeated the words slowly, her expression turning thoughtful. “Is that a type of fish I haven’t heard of?”
“Nope,” Victoria answered on a chuckle. “It’s exactly what you’re thinking. I was ten years old, and my mama told me under no uncertain terms was I to take her brand-new digital camera near the lake. I realize I’m dating myself here, but that was almost two decades ago, and digital cameras were fairly new and very expensive—at least here in our little enclave. So, obviously, that was a perfectly reasonable request for a mother to make. It’s one I’d make myself as a mom.
“And I probably would have complied, except for the fact that my nemesis, Billie Drake, used to live right over there.” Victoria pointed back behind them to the southwestern shore, where a white-painted tidy-looking house was perched near the water. “One day, he challenged me to a bass catching contest.”