Tempest Tossed: A Love Unexpected Novel

by Adams, Alissa

  I think I have a right to be told something. If it wasn’t for me nursing that wound on the trip to London, Dylan might not have been able to get up out of that hospital bed. I think I deserve a little credit for sticking by his bedside, don’t you? I’m a little miffed with Stephen.

  Lady Delaney is my constant companion. She knows something is wrong, she misses her best friend and she’s clinging to me. I wish she could talk. Maybe she’d be able to talk some sense into Stephen.

  The thing that’s weighing on me right now is that even as I write this, Dylan should be meeting with his father. Jackson Cruz’s a mean one, Hannah. I know I described him but until you see the old devil in action you can’t really appreciate what a complete jerk he really is. He played a huge role in the nasty trauma of his children’s childhood just by looking the other way. I don’t care how much our fathers love our mothers, they’d never turn a blind eye to that kind of sick abuse.

  I felt a little guilty about telling you the story. It isn’t like Dylan swore me to secrecy or anything, but I guess it was sort of implied. After all, I’m the first person he’s ever opened up to about it. After the therapists, of course. I should have been flattered instead of running away from it. Just like you said—the man has to feel something pretty special for me to tell me that sick mess of a tale.

  So, on the off chance I can salvage this relationship and you meet the man, please don’t let on that you know. It would either embarrass him or hurt his feelings or both.

  Yesterday was hell. When I called you on SKYPE from the coffee shop (sorry about all the background noise) I had been aimlessly wandering around London for hours. If we hadn’t connected, I might have gone on wandering all day. I guess I needed you to tell me to calm down and point out that I was looking for a man, on foot, in a huge strange city. I apologize for catching you at that ungodly hour, thanks for being late for work on my account.

  After our call, I got back to the boat around one in the afternoon. Stephen was gone and so was most of the crew. There’s not much for any of them to do while El Loco is just tied up at the dock and the boss and captain are both gone.

  I went into Dylan’s room, kind of just to be closer to him. I put my face into his clothes and tried to smell his scent, but they were all fresh and all they smelled like was detergent. So I lay down on his bed and pulled the pillows out from under the spread and buried my face in them. His smell is like saltwater and spices. I could bury my face in his neck and just breathe him in for hours. Yeah, right. Love sick much?

  What am I going to do if he won’t give me a chance to make this right? I know you told me not to panic, but every hour that passes makes me realize how much I want this man in my life. I can’t begin to describe how much. I’ve never felt so alive and so female with anyone ever. It’s amazing to me that I could ever have imagined I loved Nathan or Jake.

  I still get a sick feeling when I think of how crappy I allowed myself to be treated by Nathan. I wish I had known you then. You’d have slapped me silly for staying with that creep. Even now, I think he’s part of the reason I bailed on Dylan the other night. Nathan used to use his dysfunctional family as an excuse for being a dickhead. I think part of me was afraid that Dylan was going to do the same thing. I even accused him of it. I feel terrible about that argument now.

  And Jake? The best I could say about that relationship is that we were friends with benefits. Knowing what I know now about what it really means to have a man do right by your body I have to say that Jake’s benefits weren’t all that. His assets, either. LOL.

  Dylan makes me feel worshiped. That whole inner goddess thing I thought was so silly is now very real. When he touches me, it’s almost like a prayer. I’ll shut up about that now.

  What I’m really worried about right now is that he’s facing down daddy dearest. That man could make even you cower. Seriously.

  I told you that Dylan was going to confront Mr. Cruz about his future. He wants to do more than sail around on a boat the rest of his life. He wants to work for a living and he resents the fact that his father won’t give him a chance.

  Trouble is, the father thinks that Dylan is weak. But he’s not! I mean, look at what he endured and survived. It’s a miracle he’s a whole person. And then, I know it sounds like a small thing, but if you could have seen him with that fish. I’ve never seen anyone work like that. I swear to you that it was not physical power that brought that big girl to the boat. It was sheer determination. Will.

  He’s got passion for so many things, too. He’s so committed to conservation and saving the oceans. Half of me hopes that his father will turn him down. I’d like to try to see him follow his heart and devote himself to a cause he believes in.

  And then there’s Lady D. I have a pretty good idea what kind of father he’d make having seen him with that monkey. Oh god. I did not just say that, did I? No, I am not considering having his babies. It’s just something to think about.

  Dylan despises his father but I think there’s still a small boy inside who wishes things could be different. Even if there’ll never be a real father-son lovefest going on, I think Dylan wishes his father would acknowledge him as something other than a weakling and a misfit. If Mr. Cruz could ever look at his son and find him ‘competent enough’ that would satisfy Dylan. IMHO.

  Tick-tock. Is he going to come back here? What if Mr. Cruz does give him a position? Will that be the end of El Loco and the crew, including me? I have this scary fantasy of some stranger coming on board with pink slips and severance pay and I never get to see Dylan again. Lady D. will go into quarantine which would probably kill her. El Loco would go into dry dock and never sail again.

  Okay, too much drama. No pink slips, just instructions to sail back to Lauderdale and hang around until someone wants to take a little cruise. Maybe they’d add monkey caretaker to my duties.

  I’m not sure I’d want to stay on El Loco without Dylan. The job could get to be real dull real fast.

  It’s a half hour ‘til your dreaded alarm goes off. I’d call and wake you but for once in your life you actually signed out and shut down before you went to bed. I can’t call your cell because I still don’t know how to use the ship’s phone otherwise I would risk your wrath and wake you up.

  When Dylan finally comes back I intend to do exactly what you told me to do. I’m going to apologize and try to make him understand it was just panic talking. I’m going to tell him how much I want us to go on without scaring him with over-the-top emotions. No matter what, I will remain calm and in control.

  Easier said than done, my friend. Control is not a word that fits the way I feel when I’m around him. Anything but. He’s the one in control of me. It’s like I depend on him to take a breath. That’s why the whole illness thing was so traumatic. I was holding a thousand breaths, waiting for him to return.

  You have also told me, not just about Dylan, but about other things that risk is part of the game of life. In my particular game, I know I’m risking having my heart torn out of my chest and fed to the sharks. Right now, I think he’s a risk worth taking.

  I love you, sweetheart. Thanks for being the best friend anyone could ever hope to have. R.

  Chapter 6—Dylan

  My father did not stand. Nor did he come from behind the horseshoe shaped defense of his humongous desk.

  “Dylan. You’re looking remarkably well considering your recent ordeal.”

  There was one chair centered in front of him at the apex of the desk. It was way too far out to suit my purposes. I shoved it toward him. It was awkward maneuvering with the crutches. “As you can see, these things have their limitations.” I propped the crutches against his desk, purposely invading his little fortress with them. “I appreciate your taking the time to see me.”

  “You didn’t really give me a choice, did you? You were pretty clear on your ‘terms’ as well.” He sat up even straighter. His dark suit blended into the rich leather and made him seem bigger than he actually was. “I’m
a bit confused as to why you were so adamant about meeting in my office. I hardly think that having lunch with my only son would strike you as nefarious.”

  “Look, Dad, I don’t want to spar with you. I wanted to have you to myself. No distractions.”

  “Very well. I’m all yours.”

  The moment of truth had come. I fought the little boy who wanted to run from the room. But it was damn hard to keep the memory of his cold shadow at bay. It was impossible to forget how desperately I wanted him to throw me a scrap of affection or approval for most of my life.

  “I want you to know that I appreciate you giving me El Loco to care for. And I appreciate your financial support.” I stalled, hesitated and like the raptor that he was, he spotted it.

  “But it isn’t enough?”

  “That’s right, it isn’t.”

  “How much more money do you want?” He sighed and opened the top drawer of his desk as if he was going to stroke me a check.

  “Stop. I don’t want money. That’s not what I’m here for. I want to work.”

  “Work?” He snorted a condescending little laugh. “What kind of work can you possibly feel you’re qualified to do?”

  Nothing ever changes. I was still a weak, worthless little kid in his eyes incapable of offering the great Jackson Cruz anything of value.

  “You saw to it that I got a fine education. You may recall that I graduated cum laude from your very own alma mater. Your name may have helped get me in, but I earned those grades and a quite well regarded business degree.”

  “Do you want a loan to start a business?”

  “No, Dad, I want to work for you.”

  This time he laughed out loud. “You don’t know a thing about the hotel business. You’ve never so much as expressed the slightest interest in it.”

  “How was I supposed to express an interest? I never got the chance!”

  “So, now, at the ripe old age of twenty-eight you want me to magically create an executive position for you to occupy your time?”

  “No. I don’t want you to create anything. But surely there is someplace in your vast empire that a young man with a business degree could start.”

  “Dylan, do you have any idea what I pay my entry-level managers?”

  “No and it doesn’t matter. I’m willing to start at the bottom.”

  “It costs me several times more to keep you on El Loco than you’d make sitting at a desk in this company. Your status as an eligible playboy would instantly disappear.”

  “I don’t want to be an eligible playboy. I never did.”

  “Been a hard life, has it?” He propped his elbows on the desk and tented his fingers in front of him.

  “Did I say it’s been hard? Well, it hasn’t. It’s been a cake walk. And I’ve had fun. But I’m ready to move on. I would think you’d be at least a little bit pleased that I want to grow up.”

  “I admit I’m pleasantly surprised. I have to warn you, though, I think you’ll find the life of a hotelier quite dull after cruising the world, fishing the high seas and bedding long-legged blondes.”

  “I’m tired of the games.”

  “And your spunky little chef? That’s not a game?”

  That threw me. I wasn’t prepared to discuss Rene, especially give the state of confusion our relationship was in. “Rene knows more about me than anyone alive, including you.”

  “I see.”

  “But if you don’t mind, I’d like to focus on the job situation right now.”

  “Very well. I’ll accommodate you. You’ll need to give me a couple days to look for something suitable. It could be anywhere, you know. We have hotels on every continent.”

  “Except Antarctica I hope.”

  I’d forgotten how good it felt to make my father laugh. It had happened so rarely.

  “Except Antarctica. And we’ve no plans to open one there any time soon. I may be able to offer you several choices, but once you’ve made your decision you’re on your own. It will be common knowledge that you’re my son, but you’d better not count on that meaning much if you screw up.”

  I was flabbergasted at how well it was going. “I won’t screw up.”

  “If you do, I’ll let you go back to the boat or somewhere else.”

  “Why would you want to say something like that? Don’t set me up for failure.”

  “I’m just too aware of the odds against you.”

  “I’m not as broken as you think. Stop treating me as if I’m still a fragile little kid.”

  He looked at me hard. He seemed to be trying to look deeply inside my head to see what was still broken there. “You have your mother’s eyes,” he said sadly.

  I winced. “I know.”

  He stood up. The meeting was painfully over. My mother’s eyes remained too much for either of us to bear. “I’ll be in touch. Leave Miss Whipley any contact information I don’t already have.”

  I deliberately lightened the mood. I wanted to leave on something other than the melancholy note of Francesca’s memory. “Dad? About Miss Whipley. She doesn’t quite seem a match for your office.”

  He shook his head and chuckled. “Miss Whipley is unfortunately very efficient. She is also a temp who’s filling in for my usual assistant who bears a remarkable resemblance to Helen Mirren.”

  “Much more your style, for sure.”

  “Thank goodness a gall stone isn’t likely to keep Mrs. Sheffield down for long. I’m getting quite tired of watching that fashion disaster paraded through my door every day. It’s been embarrassing, to say the least.”

  “She’s quite polite. She offered me ‘sumphin’ to drink.”

  “Do you think she’s a natural redhead?”

  “She all but offered to let me find out.” That earned me another laugh as we said our good-byes. He surprised me by taking my hand and shaking it warmly.

  I left with a lighter step—limp—than I had when I came in. Maybe there was hope for the old man and me after all.

  My next step was Rene. I’d given her time to think. If my anger had faded, maybe her doubt had too. Besides, things were different now. I was going to have a real job and I’d make it into a future. There are plenty of places for a chef to work in a big hotel.

  I knew I wanted her in my world and I felt that I had something to offer her now that was more substantial than just being a dilettante on a generous allowance. Sure it was going to be a modest start but I never thought Rene was particularly money motivated. One of the things that I liked best about her was that, in she had chosen a path to suit her passion and forged a promising career with it. She wasn’t about hooking up with some dude who was going to ‘take care of her’. She lived a real life. I hoped that there was a chance for us to share that real life.

  She was sitting at the very front of the boat with her knees pulled up to her chest, the billowy skirt of a yellow sundress pulled over her legs. Her arms were wrapped around her calves; a little ball of perfect female perched on El Loco’s bow. She didn’t notice me approach from the side because she was staring straight ahead, mesmerized by something in the distant city. The slight breeze lifted strands of her hair and they twinkled like honey-colored tinsel in the afternoon sun.

  I wished that I wasn’t on crutches. I would have preferred to steal up behind her and catch her off guard. Under the circumstances, I settled for making it on board and into my cabin unseen.

  On my way I caught Angelo and asked him to bring a bottle of champagne from the cooler and a couple of glasses to my room and then ask the chef to come to my stateroom. By the time she knocked I was seated on one of the chairs, sipping on the wine and trying to look casual.

  “Come on in,” I told her.

  I got a breathless rush of pure relief when she bounded over to me and threw her arms around my neck.

  “Dylan, I am so sorry for how I acted. So very sorry. It was heartless, selfish and I feel terrible. You didn’t deserve that.”

  “No, I don’t think I did.” It didn’t s
eem possible that her eyes could get any bigger, softer or more compelling. I wanted to lock into her gaze and stay there. “I will admit I overreacted. I could have given you time.”

  “Can you forgive me?”

  “I already have.” My arms circled her and I pulled her even closer to my chest. I wanted to feel the beat of her heart and assure myself that she was back in my embrace. “Can you live with ‘complicated’?”

  “Oh, Dylan,” she said as she nuzzled into my neck. Her warm breath was a salve potent enough to heal almost any wound. Suddenly, she pulled away from me. “What are you wearing? Did you get that outfit just to see your dad? Oh, God. Your dad.” She slid the ottoman closer to the chair and parked herself at my knees. “Tell me what happened.”

  “He’s got this ridiculous assistant . . . receptionist . . . whatever you want to call her. Her hair matches the burgundy leather sofas.”

  This netted me a blank stare.

  “She was flirting with me. I think it may have been the suit.” I put my thumbs under the lapels and preened. “Pretty awesome, don’t you think?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “My new suit. I think the wine-haired chick dug it.”

  “Your father, Dylan. What about your father?”

  “He didn’t mention it.”

  “Mention what?”

  “The suit.”

  “We’re not talking about a suit!”

  “But we are. You asked me first.” I was enjoying the tease. “Oh, you’d rather hear about my father?”

  “Yes.”

  “He has an impressive office. Turns out the ditzy receptionist was a temp. He told me his regular assistant looks like Helen Mirren.” I tilted my chin to the side as if I was contemplating something quite profound. “I think Helen Mirren is very elegant, attractive and remarkable for her age." I said finally.