Unstoppable: A Sweet Romance (Jersey Girls Book 2)

by Lisa-Marie Cabrelli

  “She can’t do that,” Stephen said, shaking his head vigorously. “She made an agreement about the loan of the boat. It was all settled.”

  “Well, I guess she’s changed her mind. There’s even more bad news.”

  Stephen moved to sit. His evening with Maureen was looking like it was in jeopardy. “What?”

  “Apparently, Brad doesn’t like to be alone, and Ginny’s attentions aren’t enough to distract him. I went down to his cabin to see if he might be going out today, so we could attempt our final hack, but he was there. He told me he has two new lady friends coming—they arrive tomorrow.”

  “Crap,” Stephen said.

  “Yeah, crap is right. I have a feeling Brad is getting the same warnings about Myron and his cronies. He may be an idiot, but he’s no dummy. He knows what’s going on."

  "What do you think he'll do?"

  "Well that's the question, isn't it? I don't picture our Mr. Henderson as someone who would want to put his pretty, little face at risk. He hasn't left his cabin in days, and I'm afraid that, once these girls arrive, he may decide it would be more fun to vacation somewhere else. I can just imagine him taking off when we are this close to an indictment. My career's under threat, here, Stephen."

  Stephen reached over and put his hand on Don's shoulder. "What do you need me to do? Whatever you need, I've got your back."

  Don put his head into his hands. "He said he had a lot of work to do today and would be staying in his cabin all day. He wants Joe to bring his dinner there, too. I need a minimum of two hours with his laptop. We need to come up with a plan, Stephen. We have to get him off this boat.”

  45

  I’ll Wait

  Stephen had left an hour ago, but Maureen felt like he had been gone for days. How she was going to get through a quiet day alone, she had no idea. This afternoon, she would call Claire and fill her in on this abrupt, yet magical, change in her life. Right now, though, would be a good time for a swim. She quickly changed into her bathing suit, grabbed a huge, fluffy bath towel from the linen closet, and headed outside when she heard the phone ring.

  There was a phone here? Where was it? She walked around the cavernous living room, enjoying the feel of the breeze created by the three large ceiling fans hanging from the wood-beam ceiling, but she didn’t see a phone. She followed the sound upward and saw the phone sitting on a shelf in the loft library. She raced up the spiral staircase and grabbed it quickly.

  “Hello?” She was breathless.

  “I missed you so much that I had to call to make sure you were okay. I’m back on the boat.”

  A wide smile spread across her face. She bunched up her cushy towel and put it behind her back, so she could lean on the metal railing. “I’m okay. Missing you, though. It feels like you've been gone for years. When are you coming back?”

  “Yeah well, that’s another reason I'm calling.” She heard his sigh and her stomach dropped.

  “Why? What’s wrong?” This was it, she thought—this was the moment he would tell her it had all been a mistake and that it was time for her to leave.

  “I won’t be able to come back tonight.”

  Maureen felt tears welling up immediately. She was disgusted with herself for believing that all of this actually meant something. When would she grow up? “You’re not coming back at all, are you?”

  “What?” Stephen laughed. “Not coming back? Are you insane? I would jump in the ocean and swim from this boat to the back patio if it meant I could be with you again.” His voice softened. “Of course I’m coming back, Maureen. Don’t doubt me—or yourself.”

  She sniffled, but smiled at the softness in his voice. “Okay.”

  “Listen, I won’t be there tonight because I have to do something for Don. I told you there was work to do and that I wasn’t doing it. I am supposed to be working here, remember?”

  “Of course, Stephen. Sorry to be a freak; I just want to see you, that’s all. What will you be doing today?”

  “Well, it seems that Brad can’t survive without female company. He’s got two new friends arriving today. For some reason, Lauren Belle, the owner, has decided to pay us a visit, too. I have to help Don prepare.”

  How could she have ever thought Brad was even slightly interested in her, let alone a decent human being? Two more girls were coming, and she was barely off the boat! God help those two—she wouldn't want to be in their shoes. Still, she didn't feel too bad for them; they were keeping her from Stephen, after all.

  “Joe can’t do that job?” Maureen knew she sounded petulant, but she was just so disappointed.

  “Maureen, honey, I will be back first thing tomorrow morning. I promise, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  She hung up the phone and headed to the pool. As she stepped into the crystal-clear water, she glanced over as the expanse of ocean stretched out beyond the sea wall and gasped in surprise. A dolphin leaped from the water just one hundred feet from where she stood. She remained frozen on the top step for a few minutes and then flung herself into the warm water with a big grin on her face. She could wait to see Stephen—she would wait as long as he needed.

  46

  Who Wants to Be a Millionaire?

  It hadn't taken long for Don and Stephen to hammer out a plan for operation Get Brad Off the Boat. After all, for all of his Ivy League education and privileged upbringing, Brad was a simple guy with transparent motivations: girls and money. Stephen felt shitty about not being fully honest with Maureen, but he didn't want her involved in any of this. He would take care of business for Don and then get right back to spoiling her rotten. She would be much safer not knowing his plans for the next few hours, anyway. He had more than Don's business to take care of, as well; he needed to take care of some of his own.

  He hung up with Maureen and turned to Don.

  “I’m really happy for you, Stephen.” The captain put his hand on his shoulder. “I didn’t get much of a chance to get to know her, but she must be something to have swept you off your feet like this. Plus, Joe adores her; he hasn't shut up about you guys since you disappeared.”

  Stephen laughed. “Thanks, Don. Brad’s an idiot for not giving her the time and attention that she deserved, but I'm thankful he didn't. I think we know what he’s after.”

  “That, we do.” Don sat down and gave Stephen a thoughtful look. “I have to say, this is the first time I have heard you laugh in a long time. I knew getting you out of California would be the right thing for you, and look at all of these great customer service skills you have learned. Maureen is certainly reaping the benefits.”

  “Asshole,” Stephen said, his grin softening the insult. “I should thank you for dragging me out of that hole of an apartment, though. I’m happy, Don. Can you believe it? For the first time in two years, I feel like there is hope in my life again. I trust this girl. I never thought I would trust anyone again after what Lulu put me through.”

  Don grew serious. “Listen, Stephen, about what’s happening on this boat with guests arriving and such, I don’t want you to start to feel down again. Are you sure you want to stay and help?”

  “Seriously, Don. Who else is going to do this? Do you think Brad’s gonna believe Joe is a secret millionaire, or Jim Albright? No, it has to be me. I only hope he buys into it all. As for the rest of it, I’ll just try to get out of here and leave you to deal with Marshall, our new guests, and our meddling owner.”

  “Brad’s a bad guy, Stephen.” Don opened his laptop and started typing an email. “It’s not just this tax fraud shit. I have a whole list of crap that Carl pulled from his emails that would spin your head. He’s definitely a womanizer, that’s for sure. He sure ain’t no sailor, but he still has a girl in every port. He uses them up and spits them out, too. His daddy didn’t teach him any manners.

  “Your Maureen dodged a bullet—although, for a while there, I thought maybe she was involved, somehow. You tell me different, though, so I believe you.”

  “She’s not i
nvolved, Don. Not a chance.”

  Don shut his laptop lid with a click. “Well, that’s Carl on standby. As soon as you get Brad out of here, we can get to his laptop and finish this stuff up. The new guests should be arriving around lunchtime, but I’ll send Ginny to pick them up—she’ll love that. As for Lauren Belle, we’ll figure out how to handle her later.”

  Stephen stood and ran his hand through his hair. “Wish me luck.” He unlocked the cockpit door and headed for Brad’s cabin.

  47

  An Escape

  Brad hadn’t left the boat in three days since the visit from Myron. He was thankful he had completed the required in-person schmoozing, already, so he could now do most of his work from his email. He didn't want to leave his cabin—shit was going down. Word on the street was that he would be better off leaving the island, but he wasn't going to be bullied. He had his secret weapon ready in his back pocket; only one phone call was needed and his dad would send down some heavies to look after him and his business interests.

  This Myron dude was a bad one. He had reached out to his contacts to get as much information about him as he could, and it wasn't pretty. He was well-connected. Brad had thought he had strong relationships with his contacts, as well as strong blackmail material when he didn’t, but he was missing something. His biggest problem was a conversation he had overheard between that stuffy guy, Marshall, and Myron.

  Myron had come back to the boat the morning after Brad had kicked everyone off, including that weirdo and possible spy, Maureen. When Brad spotted him moving up the gangplank, he’d considered avoiding him entirely. He’d changed his mind, though—he wouldn't be bullied. He had been headed to the back deck when he realized Myron wasn’t coming on board, at all, and that he wasn’t even here to see him. Instead, he’d stood at the gangplank and summoned over that weirdo, Marshall. The man had skittered over like one of the massive cockroaches you couldn’t seem to avoid in the tropics and had started talking to Myron in a low voice.

  “Sorry about the other day, sir. I only just heard what happened, but it wouldn’t have happened on my watch.”

  “You tell Lauren Belle I’m not happy about this treatment." Myron was pissed. "She should know what’s happening on her own yacht.”

  “You’re right, sir,” Marshall had practically groveled. “I’m going to share this information with her right away. I’m not happy with the situation, either.”

  The conversation had continued in careful whispers, but Brad had only been able to catch snippets of it. No matter, what he had heard had already given him massive indigestion. Who the hell was Lauren Belle?

  What had he been thinking when he’d invited Nandita and that Misty broad to join him? Well, he knew what he'd been thinking: he had woken up after that disastrous evening, realizing that, although the weird Maureen chick was probably a spy, she had also been next on his list of girls to conquer. He’d gotten so bored with having the same woman night after night, and he was also fed up as hell with Ginny and her whining about being wife material. She could be some serious arm candy, but a tramp like Ginny was not what he needed in a wife for his line of work. No, he needed someone like Nandita.

  Nandita was a real exotic beauty and came from a country where women knew how to treat their men. She was arm candy personified, but she would act like a real wife should. There’d be no whining from her, and he imagined she wouldn’t say a word about his extra-curricular activities, either. He had thought Maureen might have those same submissive qualities, as well, but then she’d gotten all touchy and loud—definitely not his type. Truth be told, he didn’t think he would have been able to get her into bed, as she had a lot more smarts than he had initially given her credit for. There was no way he would admit that to anyone, though. Brad won every challenge, and when it came to women, he never failed.

  He was just considering calling Nandita again to make sure there were no issues. Truthfully, he was looking forward to the distraction—he needed to get his mind off the business stress. Before he could do so, though, there was a knock on his door.

  “Come,” he said and closed his laptop lid. He was careful to keep his laptop closed when anyone was around and his door locked when he went out. One of the captain dudes—he only occasionally remembered their names—walked in. Ah, the miserable guy, although he looked less miserable than usual.

  “Can I have a word, Brad?” He nodded his head toward the interior of the cabin, a clear hint that he wanted to come in.

  “Sure.” Brad sighed. What the hell did this guy want now?

  Stephen closed the cabin door and crossed to one of the armchairs. He sat and crossed his legs.

  “I’m going to cut right to the chase.”

  “Okay.” Brad dragged the word out and looked at Stephen with suspicion. Too much weird stuff was going on here.

  “I’m a good friend of Lester Butler. I’ve worked on this yacht for years, and Lester and I have developed a very close relationship.” Brad considered asking who Lauren Belle was if Lester was the owner of this boat, but he decided to play it out and see where this was going.

  “Good for you. What does this have to with me?”

  “Well, obviously I'm an American, right? Well, there’s not much to spend your money on when you’re at sea most of the time. It’s unusual to be moored in one location for a while, and even then, you’ve got booze and girls—you know how it goes. You’ve got the girls flocking around you—it doesn’t take much to get them where you want them.”

  Brad grinned. He liked this guy. “Yeah, go on.”

  “So, I had a bit of cash in my pocket and Lester was generous enough to give me some investment tips. You know, he has a lot of great information that’s not available to most." He smirked, and Brad liked him even more. "Over the years a pocketful of cash has become a bundle. I try to move it about a bit, but I don't know what I'm doing, really. I don’t plan on using it for a while, and the stash keeps growing. As you could probably guess, the IRS is breathing down my neck.”

  He stopped talking, so Brad prompted him, "And?"

  "And I like the Bahamas and figure I might retire here someday. Lester tells me you're the man to help me have some of my money waiting for me when I get here.”

  Brad considered the little monologue. Was it realistic? Did this boat guy really have millions in the bank? Lester must have told him Brad only dealt in millions, because otherwise, it was just not worth the commission. That’s when the guy got interesting.

  “Lester agreed to a visit this afternoon. He said he wants to vouch for me, and then we could have a conversation about what he sees as the best approach for me.”

  Okay, Brad thought, this plan works. It gets me off the boat and into a very safe space. Lester’s offices were in the parliament building; nothing could happen there. Plus, he had some serious questions for Lester.

  Did this guy have enough money for him to waste his time? Probably not, but Brad was more interested in protecting his ass right now, and he needed to make sure that Lester Butler was still on his side—he was his security deposit. Nandita and her annoying friend would just have to wait.

  “Okay, what time?” Brad asked.

  “Shall we say noon? Lester is sending a car.”

  “Sounds good. See you then.”

  48

  Whisked Away

  What had she done? Nandita stood on the deck of the Lauren Belle, feeling terrified. She wanted to go home—home to Satish’s apartment. Forget the dorms, forget freedom, and forget Brad; she had made a huge mistake!

  She’d had her first doubts when they had arrived at Misty's house and Misty's mom was nowhere to be found. Her friend had insisted she had cleared this whole trip with her, but when they sat down to book the tickets, Misty had dropped a bombshell.

  "We'll just put both tickets on your credit card. My mom said she'll give you cash when she gets back."

  Nandita had hesitated, but felt bad for doubting her friend. "When will she be back?"


  "Oh, we'll definitely catch her before we leave—don’t worry about that."

  The hours leading up to their departure had been even worse. Misty had rummaged through Nandita’s suitcase, tossing out most of her clothes and replacing them with tiny shorts and crop tops that Nandita would never wear. She was glad she’d insisted on traveling in her cream, cotton pants and the silk, beaded tank that Claire had given her; she didn’t plan on changing while they were there.

  Misty had then announced that Nandita should email Sachin and let him know exactly what they were doing. She had firmly rejected that idea, though. No matter what was happening in her life, she loved Sachin and did not want to hurt him. Misty had told her she was a chicken and that it was time for her to move on. What did she need a pining boy in India for when she was about to be swept away by a gorgeous, rich man?

  Once they boarded the flight, Misty had spent the entire time waxing lyrically about how she was going to meet a friend of Brad’s and they were all going to sail away together and live happily ever after. Nandita regretted everything that had happened since the moment she made the rash decision to go on this stupid trip. She would get through this weekend as calmly as possible and then get back to the apartment, so Satish and Claire never had any idea what had happened.

  Misty was swirling around the deck in a happy dance with a huge straw bag slung over her shoulder, bulging at the sides with magazines and duty-free that she had persuaded Nandita to buy for her—as a loan, of course.

  Misty called out to the back of the girl who had picked them up from the airport. Ginny, was it? “Thanks for the ride, girly! How about a drink?” She flung her bag on the couch and flopped onto the cushions. Ginny stopped and turned, shot a look of total disgust in Misty's direction, and then disappeared inside the boat.