by Wood, Vivian
As I’m about to open the heavy oak door, it swings open. I back up, my eyes narrowing as I realize who is on the other side.
Fletcher Montgomery. He’s around my age, but he looks like he was born in a Patagonia Outdoors store. Boat shoes, khaki shorts, a light purple short sleeve button up, and a black puffy vest. Not a hair is out of place on his blond head, which irks me for some reason.
My expression immediately sours. “Fletcher.”
He gives me the biggest shit-eating grin. “Well, look who just washed up on shore. It’s Old ‘Woe Is Me’ Gabe and his trusty sidekick, Little Orphan African-nie.”
Malkia fires back immediately, without missing a beat. “You are so unimaginative. It is painful watching you try to come up with the shit that comes out of your mouth, Fletcher. Drop dead.”
She breezes right past him, utterly unconcerned. I however stay for a second, if only to see Fletcher’s cheeks color. He lifts his chin, sneering.
“Someone should send her back to where she came from,” he spits. He looks at me. “Why are you two even here? You’re bringing down the average income level in the club by a couple million.”
I smile, lifting my registration papers. “I’m here to drop off my forms for the regatta.”
He laughs. “You’re kidding, right? You have zero chance of winning without your key player.”
A lump forms in my throat. He means Michelle, who introduced me to yacht racing five years ago.
“Don’t talk about my fiancée,” I growl.
He smirks. “Surely you know by now that I have a far greater knowledge of Michelle’s dirty deeds than you will ever have. I mean, I never stopped fucking her while you two were supposedly in love— “
Just like that, I grab him by the throat. I’m pretty damn tall, having almost a foot on Fletcher, and I am not afraid to use my size to intimidate him. “Learn some fucking manners, you fucking idiot. Don’t speak ill of the dead, especially not in front of me. And especially not about my fiancée.”
He starts turning red, but I push him away forcefully before he starts choking.
I yank the door open and walk inside, dismissing him completely. But I am shaking right now, the anger and grief and bone-deep sadness all stirred up inside me like a hurricane inside a bottle. My fists are clenched tight and my jaw is so tense that it feels like the muscles in my face might snap.
I hurry along the heavy wood-paneled hall, papers still clutched in a hand, already kicking myself for letting Fletcher get to me.
Chapter Four
Luna
I swallow nervously as I climb the steps of the drab little office building. I pause in front of the dark wood front door. Hoisting my medical bag, I smooth my dark gray skirt.
“You’re going to do well,” I tell myself. Moisture pools in my armpits. I normally wouldn’t wear such a formal black top, especially not on this warm Seattle day.
But today is a job interview.
No, not an interview. The job interview. I really need this internship to put on my resume during this summer internship, while I transition from medical school into my residency. It’s vital for the doctors in charge of assignments to find me impressive, from what I hear.
Of course, my medical school only accepts a few positions as resume-worthy… and I found out about all of this a few days ago. And this is it, the only position remaining.
I look at the building one more time, biting my lip.
Aurora Borealis Charters, the sign above the door reads.
Blowing out a steadying breath, I open the door. A gust of cool air buffets my face as I step into the dreary office. Everything is just shades of brown in here. The faded carpet, the worn drapes, the chipped office furniture.
I swallow again. How is this place still open and making money?
There is a young woman seated at the reception desk. She looks up at me from an ancient PC, her expression puzzled.
“May I help you?” she asks.
I step fully inside the office, closing the door behind me. “Yes. I have an appointment with Daniel Byrne?”
The receptionist’s brow furrows. “In what regard?”
I set down my heavy medical bag with a soft thunk. “It’s a job interview. You’re still looking for someone with medical expertise, right?”
“Ohhhh,” she says, pushing herself to her feet. “Sorry. You just look too young to be a nurse.”
I scowl at her words. “I actually just graduated medical school,” I say, keeping my tone as even I as can.
“Oh!” She flushes. “Sorry. Let me just go tell him you’re here.”
I bow my head. “Of course. Thank you.”
She goes through the only doorway, only bothering to partially close the door. “Daniel! The medical attendant is here!”
I fidget with my bracelets. Each one is a silver bangle from Tiffany’s, chosen with great care. One for each year of college.
I graduated with my two best friends, Cate and Harper, and wanted something to commemorate the time.
So I got us all matching bangles. It may be silly, but it really bucks me up to think about the meaning of the bracelets on days like this one.
The receptionist sticks her head out of the doorway. “Mr. Byrne will see you now.”
Smiling graciously, I pick up my medical case and head back toward her.
She ushers me down a hallway to a cramped office, where a shockingly handsome man sits behind his file-covered desk. He wears slacks and a tropical shirt, his salt-and-pepper hair cut close to his scalp. He stands up to shake my hand and I notice that he is quite tall and muscular to boot.
I flush as our palms touch.
“Daniel Byrne,” he announces.
“It’s a pleasure. I’m Luna Leone,” I say. The color in my cheeks flames higher under his measuring gaze.
I wonder what he sees when he looks at me.
A little rich girl?
Someone too young to be a doctor?
I hope not.
“Sit, sit,” he says, resettling himself in his seat. “Let’s see…” He digs through the piles of papers on his desk, unearthing a file. He flips it open and leafs through the pages. “You’re from Mercy Southwest, right?”
I sit down in the only chair, setting my case down beside me. “Yes. I just graduated medical school in the top half of my class.”
Okay, I was number fourteen out of thirty. So what I told him was not a lie… it just wasn’t exactly the whole truth.
My lie draws his gaze up from the page. “Really?”
I shift in my seat, trying not to give in to my urge to fidget. “Yes.”
“Mm.” He looks down at my file again. “We usually don’t get the first draft of med students in here. Or second, or the third.” He smiles ruefully. “Actually, we usually only get the people that just barely graduated by the skin of their teeth. Cruising to Alaska and living on a boat for an entire summer doesn’t really appeal to a lot of people, I guess.” His brow hunches. “Especially not women.”
I blush again. “I see. Well, you were on the approved list of placements that my school gave me…”
He rocks back in his seat, studying me. “Why are you really here? Is this your backup or something?”
My cheeks are stained bright pink. “No, sir. This is the only place that I’ve applied.” I gulp. “I just found out about the program this week, though.”
He cocks a brow. “Ahh. So you ran out of other options, then.”
God, kill me now. “I prefer not to think of it that way, Mr. Byrne.”
Daniel’s gaze is heavy on me for a moment, then he rocks back in his chair again. “I think that kind of attitude will get you a long way, Miss Leone.” He looks down at my file again, sucking at his teeth. “Mercy Southwest has never steered us wrong yet. I’ll just need you to fill out a million papers saying that you won’t sue us if anything goes wrong.”
“That’s it?” I ask, surprised. I start to stand up because he does, but he waves
me back down.
“Yep. As long as you are qualified, we’ll take you. I just need to bring my son in to meet you. He captains most of the charters that we take out so he’ll be your direct boss.”
Relief floods me. “Oh, thank you Mr. Byrne!”
Daniel gives me a hooded smile. “We’ll see if you’re still thanking me when you’re actually out at sea, with waves rolling below deck and no land in sight.”
My eyes widen, but he heads out of the office. I used to spend every summer on my parent’s yacht when I was a kid… but it’s been fifteen years since then.
Do most of the medical staff that this place hires deal with seasickness, then?
“Dad, I really don’t have time for this,” a gruff voice says.
For some reason, every hair on my body stands on end at that voice. I don’t know why it sounds familiar though.
I hear Daniel answer. “Just poke your head in, Gabe.”
I turn my head just in time to see a decades-younger version of Daniel appear. He’s probably only twenty seven, and he’s more muscular and fit than his father. His hair is jet black, shaved on the sides and slightly curly on top. The t-shirt he’s wearing would be boring if it weren’t stretched tautly across such a muscular chest. But his eyes…
He looks at me with eyes the exact color of sea glass, a faint blue-green shade that gives me chills.
How could I ever forget those eyes?
It’s been six months since I got drunk and hooked up with a stranger in Vegas for my birthday. We didn’t use our full names and he left before I could ask for his number…
But I will never, ever forget those eyes. Or the things that his calloused hands made me feel that night… He made me scream his name four different times… then he vanished while I was drowsing.
Gabriel.
I knew him as G. Saying his name inside of my head excites me. I can feel my pupils begin to dilate.
“I—" he begins.
“You—" I start.
We both stop. My heart is suddenly beating hard enough to hear it in my ears.
“Gabe don’t stop in the middle of the damned doorway,” his father chides. “Come on now.”
Gabe looks at me, a silent plea on his face. He clears his throat.
“I don’t think we should hire a girl,” he says loudly. “Remember the last one we brought on? She didn’t even make it for two hours before we had to turn around and drop her off. Women aren’t cut out for the life.”
I raise my eyebrows. “Excuse me?”
Daniel doesn’t seem to notice the tension between his son and me. “That was eight years ago, Gabe. Get with it. Women can do anything they want to do now.”
I narrow my eyes. “You look familiar, Gabe.”
He actually blushes. “No, I don’t think so. I don’t see any reason I would. You must be confused.”
My brow hunches. From his guilty tone, I can guess that he’s flat-out lying. I don’t know why, though.
“Gabe, I just wanted to introduce Miss Leone to you.” Daniel looks at his watch. “Would you two excuse me for a moment? I need to take my pill and I think I left the bottle in my car.” He turns and heads out. “I’ll be right back!”
Gabe and I are left there, staring each other down.
“What the heck is going on?” I ask.
Gabe slides his gaze out the door, then whispers his answer to me. “You should not work here, little girl.”
I make an offended noise. “Uhh! I should work anywhere I want to, Gabriel.”
He narrows his eyes. “Seriously. You should get out of here. I don’t have time or attention for someone… someone like you.”
I huff. “That’s funny. I think that you don’t want Mr. Byrne to know that you slept with me. Why would that be?”
Gabe reddens. “Get. OUT!”
Normally I would leave. My mother always taught me that a woman should only be in places where it was clear that she was wanted. Desired, even.
This is definitely not one of those situations.
But if I don’t take this internship, I’m out of options. And I’m damned sure that Gabriel isn’t going to stand in the way of me getting a good rotation when school starts again.
I fix him with my gaze. “No. You probably don’t know this, but the school looks at these next few months when they are determining who gets what position next year. This internship is my last chance not to end up at the bottom of the pile.”
Gabe leans back against the wall, peering outside again. “I don’t care.”
“Well, you should.” Grasping at straws, I pull out my only ammunition. “Otherwise I… I will tell your father about the drunken night we spent together.”
The corner of his mouth turns down. “So?”
Oh, fudge. I start to sweat, even in the air conditioned office.
“I think you care what he thinks,” I accuse. “If not, I’ll just… I’ll march out of here and tell him!”
Gabriel studies me, not too different from the measuring gaze his father gave me earlier. Then he shifts his stance.
“Fine,” he says, gritting his teeth. “Just keep your mouth shut, all right?”
That actually worked? He’s just… letting me work here?
“Okay,” I agree hastily. “You have my word.”
He snorts. “You’ve already blackmailed me. Do you really think your word is worth anything to me?”
Gabriel pushes himself off of the wall, heading out of the tiny office. I look at him as he goes, feeling a weird ripple of guilt.
“Wait!” I call.
He pauses, already halfway out the door. “What?”
Swallowing, I try to think of what to say. Surely I can reassure him somehow. Explain that I’m really a good person, I just need this job.
He starts to move away, shaking his head. So I blurt out the first thing I think of.
“You… you won’t be sorry,” I manage.
Gabe turns his head, disgust written plain on his features. “I already am.”
What does that even mean?
Then he’s gone, lumbering down the hall. I jump when I hear him slam a nearby door. Standing and clutching my medical bag, I swallow.
I got the internship, yes.
But at what cost?
I fidget with the silver bangles on my wrist, thinking of how angry Gabriel was.
How did he get like that?
And what do I have to do with anything?
Daniel soon returns, ushering me to sit. But I’m left churning those same questions over and over again in my head.
And remembering those steely sea glass eyes…
Chapter Five
Gabe
One mistake. One damned mistake. I let go of my control once, for a night on the town in Vegas. I got drunk and hooked up with the prettiest, brightest girl I’ve ever met.
Soft blonde hair, just touching her shoulders. Beautiful dark blue eyes set in a face that could’ve been a doll’s. A slender frame that made my hands ache to touch her, to grip her curves as I did that night.
And that smile… when she turned it on me, I felt like it lit up every single space inside my chest. She looked at me like I held all the secrets in the world, if she would just listen…
The way she looked at me made my guilt and anger recede. It made my current feelings dissipate, leaving only the electricity between us… the connection…
Of course then I kicked myself every day for months afterward. I know that no one else cares about my self-proscribed year of mourning, but I cling to it doggedly.
It’s all I have left of Michelle. I’m going through the motions, feeling practically nothing.
Nothing but anger and bitterness.
So I slipped. It was only one time…
I thought that I had left all my shame behind in Vegas, but… there she was in my dad’s office, being interviewed to be the new medical intern.
Luna Leone.
One look at her — blonde, petite, hotter
than the sun itself — and my mouth dried up.
She makes me remember things. Dirty, shocking things that I did.
The way she felt in my arms, so fragile yet so strong. The faint taste of strawberries when I first kissed her glossy mouth. The way she clung to me as I took her standing up, rough and wild.
And the sounds that escaped her when I fucked her… the little mms and ahhh, the way she begged for more—
“Gabriel!” Malkia cries, pulling at me. I’m snatched back to awareness as we walk along the docks.
My sister just saved me from walking straight off the docks and into the water. She gives me a funny look. “What is your deal?”
I shrug and shake my head. “Nothing. I just wasn’t paying attention to where I was going.”
She frowns at me. “Are you sure you want to do the staff orientation today? I can handle it if you’re not feeling well…”
A panicky feeling rises in my stomach. Knowing Malkia and how easy it is to talk to her, I’m willing to bet she would have the whole story of my crazy night in Vegas out of Luna by the end of the day.
“No thanks,” I say, ushering her toward the ship. From here, I can see a small group of people clustered by the yacht’s slip.
Malkia wrinkles her nose at me but trudges toward the yacht anyway.
Stuffing down the feelings of guilt and shame that plague me, I follow her. When we approach the group that is standing on the dock before our yacht, I cast an eye over them.
Two new men, three women. One of the women is Luna, an expectant expression on her face. The rest of our new recruits are dressed like they have a fucking clue about boats. They’re wearing casual t-shirts, khakis or work pants, and boots or tennis shoes.
Luna is dressed in a fancy white blouse, a clingy pink pencil skirt, and pink high heels. She might as well be wearing an astronaut’s puffy white suit; she sticks out like a square shape in a world of round holes, standing on this dock.
Fuck me. My body responds to her presence here just as it did in my dad’s office. Though I want nothing more than for her to just disappear, there is a caged animal inside me.